Dress code of Niger

VIEW FROM THE GALLERY By MAHMUD JEGA

I rubbed my eyes three times when I first saw it, to make sure that I had not gone blind in the interim. First the social media, and then nearly every major newspaper, online medium, radio and television station in Nigeria had the story on Monday last week, that Niger State Governor Mohammed Umaru Bago had banned the state’s civil servants from wearing flowing gowns, known as babbar riga or even its lesser form, the kaftan, during working hours. According to the story, Bago said they are not allowed to wear these native dresses from Monday to Thursday, when they must dress smartly to work. They are only allowed to do so on Fridays, probably because this is the day of the weekly Juma’at prayer, which is very important in a predominantly Muslim state such as Niger and on which day worshippers dress in their week’s best.

Bago was said to have handed down the shock order on Saturday, December 17,  during the presentation of land development and preparation equipment at Brains and Hammers Rice City, Mohammed Inuwa Wushishi Farm, Chakwa Community in Wushishi Local Government Area of the state. Civil servants, he reportedly said, “must dress like workers who work to create wealth and not noblemen.” A video recording of the governor’s speech, in Hausa language, went viral on social media. He added that any civil servant who wants to wear babbar riga or kaftan should resign from the service.

I sat back that evening and imagined the shock, anxiety and consternation that such a directive would have caused in Niger State. I know Nigerlites quite well; we were together in the old North Western State, and majority of my secondary school mates, and many life-long friends, are Nigerlites. No disrespect intended, but even by the standards of Northern Nigeria, the people of Niger State are among the most conservative, in dress, in religious practice, in traditional customs, in politics, in food and even in the manner of exchanging greetings. I used to marvel, during our days together in the old North Western State, that when two Nupe men riding on their bicycles met on the highway, they will stop, both of them will alight from their bicycles, hold the bike with one hand while they kneel down to greet each other. Even by Sokoto standards, that was unusually conservative.

In our secondary school, Nupe students were most conspicuous in religious observances. They prayed ardently; there was one senior student called “Mai agogo” [the one with a clock in his head] because at every prayer time, whatever he was doing, he was always the first to jump to his feet, grab a bottle of water and rush to perform ablution, well before anyone else realized that it was prayer time. No surprise that on the streets of nearly every city, town and village in Niger State, flowing gowns and kaftans are to be seen everywhere, worn by elders and youths alike, civil servants or no, including farmers, artisans, drivers and motor cyclists. Even hunters in Niger State wear flowing gowns. Let us not mention Niger State’s traditional rulers, who wear some of the most regal attires in the North, including huge turbans. Or its Muslim clerics, for whom gowns, turbans and prayer beads are as indispensable as their hands and legs.

Let’s not forget the politicians of Niger State. During the Second Republic, Governor Muhammadu Auwal Ibrahim always wore a flowing white gown and Zanna Bukar cap, which sat very well with his tall frame. I remember pictures in New Nigerian newspaper during the rowdy state congress of the National Party of Nigeria [NPN] in 1978 where Auwal was nominated as gubernatorial candidate. The congress was held three times due to rancour and Auwal won on all three occasions. At each event, he sat in the hall in Minna in his flowing gown, unperturbed by the rumpus around him. These days, as Emir of Suleja, he still wears the flowing white gown with royal alkyabba on top of it.

Not only Alhaji Auwal. During the Third Republic, as a Citizen magazine reporter, I was twice sent to Niger State to interview Governor Musa Inuwa. He too always wore a flowing white robe. On one occasion, when I was to interview him at 8am, I had to wait for two hours before he had a visitor, then Abia State Governor Dr. Ogbonnaya Onu. When I was finally ushered in, the governor apologized that he kept me waiting and said he had not even had his breakfast, but we should proceed with the interview. I quickly urged him to eat his food first, and Musa Inuwa ate so hurriedly, in order not to delay me, that he soiled his white gown with red soup.

One day in 2006, I was in Sokoto State Governor Attahiru Bafarawa’s office when Niger State Governor Abdulkadir Kure of Niger State sauntered in. He immediately removed his flowing white gown and spread it on the three-seater, into which he also sank. I don’t know where he was coming from, but he was obviously very tired. I also met and interviewed Dr. Mu’azu Babangida Aliyu three times when he was Governor of Niger State. The Chief Servant was always in flowing robes, some white, some coloured. Governor Abubakar Sani Bello also wore white gowns throughout his eight years as Governor of Niger State. So you must forgive me for believing over a 40 year period that flowing gown is the dress code for Niger State governors. Indeed, when he was in the House of Representatives and even as aspirant, candidate and later Governor of Niger, Bago too was almost always in flowing dress. Even when, last month, a video of him went viral on the social media, being ferried around on a commercial motorcycle to inspect projects, while he tucked his flowing robes in order that they don’t get caught up in the motorcycle’s tyres.

If Niger State civil servants will not wear gowns and kaftans, what will they now wear? Trust mischievous artists on the social media. Soon, there were posts of a dozen suggested “dress codes for Niger State civil servants,” ranging from jeans, boogey trousers, mechanics’ uniforms, hunter’s hats and even bikinis. Was it not said that the governor wants them to dress smartly in order to work in the farms and fulfill the state’s potential as a bread basket? Pray, which dress is smarter than a bikini, with which White women dive into swimming pools and even the sea for a bath?

You see, Governor Bago has a point about the correlation between work and smart dress. During our school days, our Vice Chancellor, Professor Shehu Galadanci, noticed a gang of three students that walked into a hall with their shirts tucked tightly in their trousers. The VC asked if they knew the history behind the tucking of shirts. He said when the Industrial Revolution set upon England, its people were wearing flowing dresses, which often got caught up in the machines. Hence, they resorted to tucking them. Ok, as far as I know, the Industrial Revolution has not yet arrived in Niger State, or anywhere else in Nigeria. It is alleged today that we are in the post-industrial Knowledge Age. The machines of these days, laptop and desktop computers, do not grab anyone’s dress, so why should we bother?

Anyway, I saw a statement the very next day, on Tuesday last week, of Governor Bago saying he was “quoted out of context” on the dress issue. The statement did not however say what was the correct context in which he made the statement. If he only meant that civil servants should go to the farms after working hours, why did he ask them to resign if they must wear gowns? Anyway, two days later, Bago presented his 2024 budget speech before the State House of Assembly and, lo and behold, he appeared in a blue T-shirt and without a cap. His thick black beard competed for attention with his balding head, and both shined in the floodlit assembly chamber. Apparently he implemented his directive alone, because all the legislators wore flowing gowns, the Speaker wore lawyer’s robes and wig, while all of Niger State’s great emirs sat in one row, in their flowing royal robes.

Which “context” was more important than the governor’s wearing of a T-shirt to the most important state event of the year, the presentation of budget before the State Assembly? There is this thing that lawyers call estoppel; implementation is evidence of an agreement, in this case a directive. This Niger State dress code get as e be. Getting the conservative people of Niger to dress like Detroit factory workers promises to be a tall order.