Nation Builders Magazine

By Faruk Ahmed Musa Abdu was twenty‑five years old when the system told him he mattered. He had watched his father climb the ranks of the Nigeria Police Force—one promotion at a time, one dusty uniform at a time. His father never drove a new car. He never built a mansion. But he walked with dignity, and he served. That was enough for Musa. That was the dream. In December 2025, applications opened for the Nigeria Police Force recruitment. Musa applied. He followed every instruction. He travelled to Kaduna for a one‑week training exercise. He was told that anyone called for that exercise was as good as taken. When the portal told him he was  Qualified , he wept. He shared the screenshot with his mother, his friends, his village. He was going to be a policeman. He was going to serve. Then the portal told him he did not exist.   The glitch that wasn't A few weeks later, the Force asked applicants to check their status. Musa logged in. He entered his National Identi...

By Faruk Ahmed Imagine you are a child in Kano. You wake up every morning with a plastic bowl in your hand, not a book. You walk miles under the sun, not to school, but to beg. Your parents cannot feed you. The government created a commission just for you. It was called the National Commission for Almajiri and Out-of-School Children Education (NCAOOSCE). It was supposed to be your lifeline. Then they built roads with your money. In Ogun State. The commission that forgot the children The NCAOOSCE was established in May 2023 to reform the Almajiri system and reintegrate out-of-school children. Then came the 2026 budget. Scrutiny revealed that ₦ 8.4 billion of its budget was earmarked for road construction in Ogun, Ekiti, and Katsina States. One project: "Rehabilitation and Construction of Obasanjo-Itele Road" in Ogun— ₦ 1.4 billion. Another: roads in Damarkatu, Katsina— ₦ 1 billion. Yet another: internal roads at Government Science College, Ekiti— ₦ 1 billion. Meanwhile, the co...

By Faruk Ahmed The boy who once memorised the Qur'an now counts bullets. His name is Usman. He is seventeen. He has been in the forest for two years. Before that, he spent seven years in a Tsangaya school in Kano, learning to read and write in Arabic, memorising verses that his teachers said would lead him to paradise. He was good at it. His Mallam said he had a gift. "This one will go far," the Mallam used to tell visitors. "He will sit for NBAIS one day. He will get his certificate. He will go to university." Usman believed him. He believed it so much that he would sit under the shade of the neem tree every evening, reading his Arabic texts by the light of a solar lamp. He would trace the letters with his finger, whispering the words, memorising the meanings. He dreamed of wearing a white gown and a cap, of walking across a stage, of his mother's face beaming with pride. That dream died on a Thursday in June 2026.   The policy that closed a door It started...

By Faruk Ahmed In a community‑focused event to mark the global  Make a Difference Week , two non‑governmental organisations –  Asabsah Success Initiative  and  Arraayah Orphans Foundation  – donated seedlings and seeds to over thirty women in Jimeta, Yola, Adamawa State. The initiative, which took place over the weekend at Arraayah Orphanage at 52 Gerio Street, Jimeta, Yola, was part of worldwide activities celebrating the 2026 World Environment Day with a focus on climate action and ecological restoration. During the event, the organisations distributed seedlings of  Jatropha curcas  – a drought‑tolerant plant whose seeds produce oil that can be used as a renewable biofuel – and  Gembu tomatoes , a variety suited to local growing conditions. The gesture aims to support sustainable livelihoods and build resilience against climate change.   Beneficiaries overjoyed Hajiya Salamatu Mohammed, who leads Asabsah Success Initiative, shar...

By Faruk Ahmed A video is circulating on the internet. You may have seen it. Two women – Nigerians, our sisters – are stripped naked on a major thoroughfare in South Africa. They are beaten, bloodied, repeatedly kicked in the stomach and in their genitals. The violence is recorded on camera by a laughing mob. Cars and motorcycles whiz by. No security officer stops. No siren approaches. This happened in broad daylight. This is not the first time Nigerians are being attacked in South Africa. In 2008, 2015, and 2019, waves of xenophobic violence swept through the country. Nigerians were among the hardest hit. Now, in 2026, it is happening again. At least two Nigerians are dead – one beaten to death by South African military personnel, another found dead in the Pretoria Central Mortuary after an “interaction” with metro police. And what has our government done? Summoned South Africa’s Acting High Commissioner. Scheduled a bilateral meeting. Issued a statement of condemnation. Demanded auto...

By Faruk Ahmed If you ever want to test your patience, your sanity, and your faith in humanity, try registering an NGO in Nigeria. Not a business name – that’s a different nightmare. No, I mean an Incorporated Trustees – the kind that lets you do charity, advocacy, and community work. We did it. Took six months and six rejections. But we finally got our name approved. Here is what we learned – the hard way – so you don’t have to..   Lesson 1: Lawyers are expensive, but AI is deceptive If you have the budget, hire a lawyer. If you are like us – a group with a shoestring budget – you do it yourself. We turned to AI. It wrote a beautiful constitution. Aims and objectives that would make any philanthropist weep. But CAC rejected it. Twice. Why? Because AI does not know that “advocacy” and “campaigns” are red flags for the Corporate Affairs Commission. It does not know that “civic mobilisation” sounds like a protest group. It does not know that hashtags belong on Twitter, not in legal d...