In a society where the roles of kings and commoners (talakawas) have long been viewed as divinely ordained, the power imbalance between the Hausa and Fulani was largely accepted without question. But today, this dynamic is being challenged. The Hausa are now questioning the sustainability of a system that concentrates power in the hands of the Fulani elite.
Growing up, I have to admit that I harbored certain misconceptions about people living north of the River Niger. In my youthful naivety, which was not uncommon among those around me at the time, we simplistically viewed the North as more or less a monolithic entity—uniform in identity, religion, and perhaps political ideology. However, as I counted more gray hairs, traveled, made more friends and gained a deeper understanding of the Arewa landscape, it became clear that this belief was as misguided as the colonial stereotype that all Africans originate from the same village.
This misunderstanding arises in part from the region’s linguistic and cultural dominance. Unlike someone from my home state of Enugu, who can scarcely communicate with neighbors from Cross River or Akwa Ibom without resorting to English, Hausa functions as the lingua franca across much of northern Nigeria. Furthermore, while the southern part of the country tends to anchor its identity in ethnicity, the core north for the most part, predominantly defines itself through religion. Consequently, despite the presence of diverse ethnic groups such as the Hausa, Fulani, Kanuri, Bolawa, Ngizim, Menga, Margi, Buduma, and Kotoko—each with its own distinct language and traditions—Hausa remains dominant, and Islam frequently eclipses other cultural identifiers.
In political and social contexts, religious unity often takes precedence over ethnic affiliation. For example, a Kanuri man from Maiduguri might have a better chance of winning an election in Kano than a Hausa Christian born in Kano running for the same position. Unlike the southern region, where ethnicity often takes priority, northern identity is more strongly shaped by religious ties. However, this long-standing alliance is beginning to show signs of strain, with accusations and counter-accusations emerging from one group against the other, each claiming the other is undermining its interests.
The Middle Belt ( North-Central in today’s six-zonal geo-political arrangement) people complain bitterly about long years of marginalization by the Hausa/Fulani (core North), believing they have been treated as second-class citizens in areas such as national security, politics, economics, and even social relationships. They view the concept of “one North” as a ploy by the Hausa/Fulani to dominate power and resources, benefiting only a select few who are willing to support their imperialist agenda.
Efforts by the Middle-Belters to assert a distinct ethno-political identity and independence however, didn’t start just recently. People like the late Joseph Tarka, a Tiv man was central to this effort which snowballed to a major crisis between 1960 and 1964, known as the Tiv riots. This was at the time that Alhaji Aliyu Muhammed, the Waziri Jamaa, who later became Secretary to the Government of the Federation, was sent by Sir Ahmadu Bello as administrator of Tiv land. Today, the people are poised for an independent identity and sometimes find themselves gravitating towards the South, whose religious inclinations and worldview are more in sync with theirs.
The growing rift between the core North and the Middle Belt is not totally unexpected as their bond has always been more geographical than rooted in shared socio-cultural or religious values. In contrast, the relationship between the Hausas and Fulanis has long seemed as unbreakable as that of Siamese twins. Yet even this seemingly inseparable alliance, forged over 200 years, is showing cracks. The strain within the core is becoming increasingly evident, hinting at a potential rupture that could shake the very foundation of their unity.
Just last month, Hausa leader Kaltum Alumbe Jitami, who refers to himself as “The Emancipator,” representing the Hausawa Tsantsa Development Association (HTDA), issued a strongly-worded rejoinder to statements made by Fulani leader, Dr. Salim Musa Umar, President General of the Fulbe Global Development and Rights Initiatives (FDGRI). Dr. Umar had claimed that the Fulani were being unfairly profiled and linked to criminal activities in Nigeria, which had led to their persecution.
In Jitami’s rejoinder, titled “For 219 years, the Hausa people have been victims of terrorism and injustice under Fulani leadership,” he accuses the Fulani of centuries of oppression, tracing it back to Usman Dan Fodio’s jihad, which he argues began a long history of violence and exploitation against the Hausa.
Jitami listed numerous alleged atrocities committed by the Fulani, including slavery, violence, and the marginalization of Hausa people in politics and education. He called for the Fulani to leave Hausaland, warning that continued conflict could unravel their historic relationship. His letter also hinted at a broader ethnic and political rift, urging the Hausa to defend themselves and accusing the Fulani of perpetrating genocide. In a separate letter to President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, Jitami expressed concern over the appointment of Fulani individuals to key government positions, arguing that it threatens national unity.
The rise of banditry, which has engulfed the entire North-West region, initially began as a conflict over water resources and grazing rights between sedentary Hausa farmers and Fulani pastoralists. Over time, it evolved into a lucrative criminal enterprise. According to one report, as many as 30,000 bandits, spread across 100 gangs, now operate in Nigeria’s northwest region.
Recently, notorious terrorist leader Bello Turji, a Fulani, issued a chilling warning to the Hausa people. In a video, Turji accused the Hausa community of betraying the Fulani by killing innocent Fulani and their livestock. He threatened to wage war against the Hausa unless these attacks ceased, declaring them his primary target rather than Nigerian security forces.
Turji claimed his group’s involvement in violence was a form of retaliation for perceived oppression by the Hausa, particularly in Zamfara State, where partial Sharia law and vigilante groups like Yan Sakai allegedly targeted the Fulani, prompting them to take up arms.
In April 2022, the Gwadabawa community in Sokoto State saw a deadly conflict between Fulani and Hausa residents, leaving dozens dead and many more wounded. However, this was not an isolated incident.
In January last year, a violent clash between Fulani and Hausa settlers in the Ogbese community of Akure North, Ondo State, resulted in one person feared dead and many others injured. Thanks to the swift response of security forces, a more catastrophic escalation was avoided.
To understand the growing conflict, it is essential to revisit the historical relationship between these two ethnic groups, who once lived in relative harmony for centuries.
Before the Fulani Jihad, the Hausa Kingdoms flourished as a vibrant collection of city-states, nestled between the Niger River and Lake Chad in what is now northern Nigeria. The Hausa people, renowned for their skills in fishing, agriculture, hunting, salt-mining, and blacksmithing, dominated this region. Yet, the true origins of their culture remain shrouded in mystery.
Legend speaks of Bayajidda, a traveler from the Middle East, who, after arriving in the ancient city of Daura, married its queen. Their union, according to folklore, gave rise to seven sons, each of whom established one of the seven major Hausa Kingdoms, known as Hausa Bakwai: Kano, Rano, Katsina, Zazzau (modern Zaria), Gobir, Kebbi, and Biram. These city-states became powerful trade hubs, encircled by towering walls, and built upon a robust economy of farming, cattle raising, craftsmanship, and later, slave trading.
Governance in each state fell to a monarch, possibly elected, who ruled alongside a network of feudal lords. By the 14th century, many of these rulers had embraced Islam, though persistent rivalries between the states left them vulnerable to external threats, such as the growing influence of the Bornu Empire. Contrary to a widely-held view that Usman Dan Fodio brought Islam to Hausaland, that was clearly not the case.
More insidious, however, was the gradual migration of Fulani pastoralists from the west. These nomadic people steadily spread through Hausaland, bringing their culture and customs with them over several centuries.
Then, in 1804, the winds of change came. Usman dan Fodio, a Fulani scholar, launched a jihad against the Hausa states, accusing their rulers of neglecting Islamic principles. Backed by local Fulani leaders, driven by both spiritual zeal and political ambitions, Usman’s forces launched a campaign to topple the Hausa kings.
With superior cavalry and unity, Fulani leader Usman dan Fodio had conquered these states and established the Sokoto Caliphate, with Sokoto as its capital, extending their conquest beyond Hausaland to places like Adamawa, Nupe, and Ilorin. From the ashes of the Hausa Kingdoms arose a new power: a federation of 30 emirates, all united under the authority of the sultan of Sokoto, a title first held by Dan Fodio himself.
Following the jihad, Dan Fodio promoted intermarriage between the Fulani and the local Hausa, integrating the Fulani into the Hausa elite. This blending of cultures led to the emergence of the Hausa–Fulani identity, which became predominant in cities such as Daura, Zamfara, Kano, Katsina, Zazzau, and Sokoto.
Under dan Fodio’s leadership, and later his descendants, the Sokoto Caliphate grew rapidly, with Arabic as the official language. The empire connected the East to the West Sudan region and was governed by Islamic principles. The Caliphate’s leaders sent out emirs to establish control and promote Islamic culture, which contributed to the cultural and linguistic assimilation of Fulani traditions into Hausa society. This assimilation continued through British colonial education and media in the 20th century, further solidifying the Hausa–Fulani cultural identity.
After his death in 1817, his son, Muhammad Bello, took up the mantle of leadership. To this day, the Sokoto Caliphate remains under the control of Shehu Usman dan Fodio’s descendants, a testament to the enduring legacy of the Fulani Jihad.
Following the jihad, the Hausa and Fulani continued to live alongside one another and were often regarded as a unified people, differentiated mainly by their physical traits. However, a closer examination of their relationship reveals a more complex reality today. Despite the Hausa being the overwhelming majority in northern Nigeria, most Emirs and political power brokers in the region are of Fulani descent.
In a society where the roles of kings and commoners (talakawas) have long been viewed as divinely ordained, the power imbalance between the Hausa and Fulani was largely accepted without question. But today, this dynamic is being challenged. The Hausa are now questioning the sustainability of a system that concentrates power in the hands of the Fulani elite.
The alliance once solidified by Usman Dan Fodio now faces a precarious future. A widening divide threatens to dismantle the centuries-old political and cultural order, signaling a dramatic shift. As tensions escalate, it becomes increasingly probable that the gloves may soon come off.
Osmund Agbo is the author of Black Grit, White Knuckles: The Philosophy of Black Renaissance and a fiction work titled The Velvet Court: Courtesan Chronicles. His latest works, Pray, Let the Shaman Die and Ma’am, I Do Not Come to You for Love, have just been released.
