HISTORICAL PLACES IN KANO:TIGA DAM(1971-1974)

Just like many start up with right intentions and motives, TIGA DAM located at Kano was created with the intentions of irrigation for farmers but dilapidation and lack of continuity have left the place in a deplorable state but the one thing that can still be found there is a serene air that generally permeates the environs.


     The Tiga Dam is in Kano State in the Northwest of Nigeria, constructed in 1971–1974. It is a major reservoir on the Kano River, the main tributary of the Hadejia River.
      The dam was built during the administration of Governor Audu Bako in an attempt to improve food security through irrigation projects. The dam covers an area of 178 square kilometres (69 sq mi) with maximum capacity of nearly 2,000,000 cubic metres (71,000,000 cu ft). Water from the dam supplies the Kano River Irrigation Project as well as Kano City.^[3]

The image by the right is taken at Kano law school campus . we had used the google map in trying to locate our destination but no matter the route you follow you must pass through the law school. 

 

             Downstream impact

            Several studies have shown that the dam has delivered negative economic value when its effect on downstream communities was taken into account. On completion of the dam the river flow downstream at Gashua in Yobe State fell by about 100,000,000 cubic metres (3.5×10⁹ cu ft) per year due to upstream irrigation and by more than 50,000,000 cubic metres (1.8×10⁹ cu ft) due to evaporation from the reservoir. A study published in 1999 concluded that farmers in the downstream floodplain had adapted their agriculture, helped by new technology, but the increased level of production might not be sustainable.
          The Hadejia-Nguru wetlands further downstream have considerable economic and ecological importance. They are home to about one million people living by wet-season rice farming, agriculture at other seasons, fishing and cattle grazing by Fulani people. The dam has damaged the cycle, reducing fish catches and harvests of other wetland products.^[7]
         In August 2009, Senator Ahmed Ibrahim Lawan of Yobe North, Chairman of the Senate Committee on Public Accounts, stated that the Tiga Dam had reduced water flow in the Kano River by about 50%. The senator was speaking in opposition to the proposed Kafin Zaki Dam on the Jama'are River, the other main tributary of the Yobe River. He said the Tiga and Challawa Dams had caused intense poverty, increased desert encroachment, migration and conflicts between arable farmers and herdsmen. He noted that the Yobe River no longer flows into Lake Chad.^[8]
    It is estimated that Lake Chad will dry up completely within 40 years. More than 30 million people derive their livelihood from the Lake Chad Basin through fishing, raising live stock and farming. A study group to examine the problem was established in November 2008, visiting the Tiga dam and other locations.^[9]
               

       There are no side attractions at the Dam except the former glory of the Dam and for someone that cherishes quietness and calm, that can be achieved there. There are many Dams in that location but this particular one is the first you meet by the right side of the road with Kano state film Academy sign board and the Tiga Dam sign board, rusted green . There are two openings for gate, drive through and you will see this blue Railings. If lost just show this picture but that will not happen if carefully these descriptions are followed.

CLIMAX

My favorite moment was when the engine of the boat kick started.  Watch Video on my Instagram page, sarahjohn5411 and of course the picture taking and the total freedom with my company Ray.
















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Go where you feel most alive...

I will look back at it and smile because it was life and I decided to live it

...Don't listen to what they say. Go see!!!

Seek adventure, then open your mind.

I want to wake up every morning knowing that I tried. Sometimes that's all that matters.












S.J

LADI KWALI DOSEI: THE TIGRESS WHO DOES NOT SHOUT IT'S TIGRITUDE, SHE ACTS.

 FIRST OF HER KIND: LADI KWALI DOSEI. (BORN ON A SUNDAY)

 
     On this day many years ago, a woman, her work and art pieces is being celebrated as we      gained  our independence. many incidences have occurred, some major while some more minor that have somehow blurred the history of this great woman but today, the 1st of october 2019, I want our memories refreshed of some major contributions of women to our national development. This I hope will trigger a sense of belonging, a sense of patriotism and a sense of relevance. This is intended to give young women the zeal to continue to pursue their talents and never undermine the possibility of greatness that could come from simply living. 

  

Kwali was born to Gbagyi parents in 1925 in the village of Kwali, located in the Gwari region of present-day Abuja, where pottery used to be a common occupation among women. Her first name means "born on Sunday" while her second name is the name of her hometown.

Kwali grew up in a family in which the womenfolk made pots for a living. She first came to learn Gwari pottery-making as an apprentice to her aunt, who taught her the Gwarin Yamma techniques of coil and pinch methods of pottery. The Gwari pottery-making methods, which remained in her repertory throughout her life, produce three major object shapes: 

The randa (a large water storage pot), 

The kasko (a household storage pot), and

The tulu (an elaborately decorated storage pot often used in religious festivals). 

The large pots used as water jars and cooking pots are beaten from the inside with a flat wooden paddle and decorated with incised geometric and stylized figurative patterns. Following the traditional African method, they were fired in a bonfire of dry vegetation.

Drying Method. Image by the left.

Kwali developed a mature sense of form and an intimate knowledge of clay characteristics, skills which are important to a potter.

Kwali came to international prominence for her talents in the 1950s with help from the famed English studio potter, Michael Cardew (Baban Shaku) who had helped launched the Abuja Pottery Training Centre along with Kwali in 1952 and spent the following fifteen years teaching and learning from Nigerian potters. Prior to the Centre's launch, Kwali had worked as a professional potter, as well as trading and running a shop in Minna, Niger State.

Kwali took her time in making her designs and they stood out because of their beauty and exquisite charm. The Emir of Abuja at the time, Alhaji Suleiman Barau, was so enchanted by her work that he bought many of her pieces for his collection. It was during a visit to his palace that Cardew first noticed her works and encouraged her to join the centre.

Many of her early works were hand-built storage jars, water pots, bowls, casseroles, flasks and big jugs, which comprised impressed stylized designs of animals such as snakes, scorpions, lizards, and crocodiles. When she joined the pottery centre in 1954 as its first woman potter, Kwali was trained in new methods taught there, such as glazing, wheel throwing, kiln firing, and stoneware. She became famous for her experimental and innovative works merging the Gwari style she was proficient at with the modern techniques, creating glazed dishes, bowls and beakers, with stylised animal sgraffito. These are the works for which she is best known and they were a great asset to the growth in the popularity of Abuja pottery outside Africa.

She also continued to produce pots using her traditional hand-building and decorating techniques. Most of these were glazed and fired in a high-temperature kiln, and representing an intriguing hybrid of traditional African and Western studio pottery styles. Her presence at the centre also made it easier for more women to join and by 1965, another pottery centre called Dakin Gwari was opened in Abuja, with four women running it and working together.

Through Kwali's contact with Cardew, she and her work became known in Europe and America and she became a very popular member of the Centre's touring lecture team of the Centre. In the late 1950s and early 1960s, her work was shown to great acclaim in London at the Berkeley Galleries. Kwali remained associated with the Abuja Pottery Training Centre works until her death. She gave lectures and demonstrations at home and abroad on her craft for the duration of her career.

Awards and Honours

In 1958, 1959, and 1962, Kwali's work was exhibited in London and her contributions helped keep the Pottery Centre afloat. She was made a Member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (MBE) in 1963 and was awarded an honorary degree byAhmadu Bello University in 1977. Her pottery was also displayed during Nigeria's independence celebrations in 1960. In 1980, the Nigerian Government invested her with the insignia of the Nigerian National Merit Award (NNMA), the highest national honour for academic achievement. Kwali is the first and only woman to appear on Nigerian currency: her portrait is on the back of the twenty-naira note.

She received a number of other honours in her lifetime, including being made an Officer of the Order of the Niger (OON) in 1981, and a Silver Award for Excellence during the tenth International Exhibition for Ceramic Art at the Smithsonian Institutein Washington, DC. The Abuja Training Pottery Centre was renamed the Ladi Kwali Pottery Centre, and major roads in Abuja and Niger State are named after her.

Death and Legacy
Kwali died on August 12, 1984 at the age of 59 in Minna, shortly after Cardew who had died the previous year. Although married, she did not have any children, but she left a rich legacy in her work and the students she left at the Abuja Pottery Training Centre.
   Ladi kwali speaks with her works. The precision and personalized detailing gave her works the prestige it acquired. Through every spin, every beaten with wooden paddle, de and burning and styling, kwali wrote her name on the sands of history. Historians need to talk more about this. As Soyinka says: "Human life has meaning only to that degree as long as it is lived in the service of humanity"

S.J

WANTING MORE

                                                            WANTING MORE

       It was months ago that Allen told me our relationship was not satisfying anymore. I watched him
as the words roll down sleekly from his soft lips. It was the gentility in His breathy voice as he
spoke that made tears flowed down freely as I stood facing the window of his self contain
apartment. Our years together flashed before my eyes. The sweetness of calling me auntie in this
way that only emphasized my babyness resonated as I looked at the last gift...a six years
Amphora wine. He was a connoisseur of some sort. I remember just how disappointed I was when
he told me he had not read Edgar's Cask of Amontillado. Although It gladdens me that Fortunato
surpasses him.
  
       Allen had recently put on some weight and would often stand before the mirror that overlooks the reading table and pull pound of extra flesh from his belly. Sometimes he had complain with a
desire to be told otherwise. That what he is seeing is not absolutely true. Of course he is loosing
some with liftings every day.It was on one of such days I told him. It doesn't change a thing.
He smiled sweetly and said this is for me. With a determined emphasis. Nodding his head with
a fixed gaze. It made me proud of him and question just how true my my earlier stand was.
Don't make this about you auntie. He got few minutes silent treatment before a pillow spanking.

He smiled graciously with his newly shaved head reflecting under the white bulb as the pillow
moved from one hand to the other. His eyes glistening with soft tear that never drops while his
Caramel skin emphasized the whiteness of his carefully arranged dentition.
He took off the sweaty polo and drops down on the bed in front of my open legs with a coy smile
that I have soon come to memorize. He made to put his head and I quickly closed them. He looked
up at me holding my face for a while. He parted his lips while sucking the lower part. I bent low
then. His lips tasted of spices mixed with the Amphora we had just taken. I opened my eyes
temporary and met his wide open but the explorations made it hard for mine to stay open.
'that was cute' he says  turning me over. The way your eyes were closed. I smile and he
plants a kiss on my head as he heads to the bathroom. I attempt getting up but fall down back on
the softness of the cashmere and ruminate.

We had first met at Aboy's place. I had gone to see him concerning the clientele and there Allen,
tall, big boned and cute was. It was hard to forget his scent. lavender. It warped the air graciously.
He was a student of Hydrology. Hydrology sounded so polished and it got my attention. I
wondered silently why he was still in school. Maybe he detected that or considers my friend who
speaks his language prettier but somehow I  didn't have the full attention any more. I prayed my
friend will not recount her tales of castlu. I watched as he ate the stew I had prepared at his
insistence with deep satisfaction and it made me blush. He didn't talk to me again throughout the
period we were escorted out until I discovered I  had lost an ear ring. I wouldn't stop nudging
Aboy so he looks at me and walks over to a lady who sells jewelry. His looming height over
shadows mine and for a moment there I thought how really average I must be. He got the dot
ear ring and replaced it with my missing one. He smells pleasant with his armpit raised above my
face. We said goodbye but I got his number.

Allen. I like him. His height is amazing  my friend tells me on our way back. I teased her about
tall boys and she as always 'I'm not tall na' retorts. We smiled and I told her if she would like
me to talk to him. She kept mute and I didn't push it neither did I tell her just how surprisingly
fascinated I was too.

After he complained of my only calling for business, I visited that weekend and have since been.
Mostly on and off. He speaks many languages making it easy to code mix and switch alternating
between Yoruba and Hausa, pidgin and English. I listened as he tells me stories about world
characters, drug lords and international politics. He thought the ponzi scheme was worth trying
since the return is more visible than the ten naira addition from the banks.

We had started a little garden behind the house and some mornings he had hold me in front of him  as I point to some of the newly sprouting seeds. At other times, he just nuzzles as I lay contentedly against his firm softness.  The first time I told him I loved him was when he was sick. I had return his call that evening and the quiet slowness of his voice made me wear a gown without my lingerie. When I saw his small eyes pushing to stay open, I felt his hand then wiping the tears off my face. I held them there as we locked in shared understanding and I told him I do love him too.

We harvested ugwu and added it to our tomato stew on some occasion . He cooks while I raise my palms as he drops little for my vetting. 'How is the salt'? He had asked watching my expression like a rain maker. Once I nod, he picks me up and swirl me round the small kitchen and we had kiss.

When his withdrawal started, I asked he waved it off. My visits became less while the ugwu
leaves withered under the Harmatan breeze. It was that morning he told me:

'I want more Danny..."
holding my hands under the softness of his,
 "You know I'm not there yet"
"I'm sorry'...
I understand" I told him as I gathered my toiletries from the bathroom ledge.

S.J

Memory At Seven

                            Memory At Seven

        The first memory of my mother  was at seven in our room and palor house at Egbe road. A largely populated area dominated by the very average and extremely above average people who live in one day peace one day war with their face me I face you neighbor. We had recently moved from Jaba, another small city in Kano where we left for during the Abacha stove era. My sister and I.

     I got up very early to take my shower. I looked up at the white rounded faced wall clock above the florescent light in our parlor minutes after minutes. I had recently been made the head girl of my school. I wrapped round my towel that had become deep earthen brown. The compound had two bathrooms with a slimy corridor and slippery walls surrounded by rats running ahead once the swish of matches is heard. To move the school forward was my one point agenda!

      It had rained the previous night and I had recently got a blue and white striped flay skirt with a tank top. The sun was setting. I leaned on the gate. It overlooks the street. Just across mama Mayorkun had placed a very massive pot on the fire that has three horns underneath while  Fatima and Afsat played different the same.

       Just ahead of the street I saw a woman with a yellow and green matted basket. The street no longer bustles as churches has taken over all residential homes. I stare as she proceeds with this air, this grace I could simply not understand. She smiles. I wonder.  her. A tickle in my heart recognizes her but I did not run to get her things nor embrace her. She must be tired her gait says that while the slouching of the basket indicates its heavy content. I must have been ashamed or disappointed  or maybe  to have the pity of people around when they say that is your mum and to blame my step mother for being the reason for such a rift. I walk slowly with my head facing downward while holding the black nylon where something lukewarm presses against my palms as  she scans my head and scratches off dirt with eyes of pity on us from my neighbors.

They had fight.  My father and  mother. My father for many days will simply look through the window. This recognizable stranger was who my mother had become.

S.J