Zainab Bayero: Kano’s Princess Caught in Labyrinth of Religion, Rights, Royalty and Tribe

•Family Left in the Lurch After Emir Ado Bayero’s Demise

Zainab Bayero, the daughter of one of Kano’s most celebrated emirs, Ado Bayero, has faced one eviction after another since her father’s demise. As a princess, she is expected to live in comfort. In reality, her current situation is marked by uncertainty, struggle, and isolation, writes Vanessa Obioha 

The serene estate along the Lekki-Epe axis, where Zainab Bayero—daughter of the late Ado Bayero, Kano’s longest-reigning emir—lives with her mother, Hauwa, and brother, Ahmed, offers a fleeting sense of peace. By the time this is read, that fragile calm might have already shattered. Once again, they are facing eviction from the short-let accommodation in which they were sheltered.

For Zainab, eviction is no longer a shock. What stings deeper is the constant uncertainty and humiliation—a persistent reminder of the hardship her family has endured since her father’s death.

 “We have not had a personal home since my father’s demise,” she says. “His family denied us any part of his estate.”

 As a princess of the Bayero royal family, Zainab often feels like an outcast. This sense of rejection by society may be shaped by the Western culture she was immersed in since her childhood.

 Returning to Kano from London, where she spent her formative years, was a cultural shock. “I was one of the few kids who couldn’t speak Hausa,” Zainab recalls. 

 To date, her presence starkly contrasts the conservative norms she is expected to follow. The swift whisper and judgment that followed remain as she faces severe criticism for her Western-style clothes and hairstyles.

 Over the years, Zainab has learnt to accept that she is a princess but an unconventional one. She tries to balance the reality that she comes from two different cultures, one liberal and the other conservative.

 “I feel that because I was living in such a conservative society, I had to suppress my mother’s side of me, that they (the North) feel that I am uncomfortable or ashamed of that side of me. That left me really conflicted,” she says. “I didn’t know who I was at that point in my teens. Am I the typical Hausa girl, or am I that woman who is ready to take on the world?”

 To adapt to her new world, Zainab has become diffident. But as the years went by, she began to marry her two realities. As much as she loves her religion, she still wants to be able to enjoy her pop music and read novels. 

Recently, Zainab was a recipient of online trolls and vitriols. The genesis of that backlash stems from an interview she did with TVC last June, where she talked about her documentary biopic on her late father.

“I began my media journey because I’m promoting my first project, which is a documentary depicting my late father’s life and times. I decided to explore his remarkable journey as the longest-reigning monarch in Kano history and tell his story,” she says.

Her attempts to secure sponsorship for her documentary on international platforms have stalled, but her TVC interview unleashed a wave of criticisms.

“I got serious backlash on social media for my appearance, and it was coming from the North,” she says quietly despite the visible hurt.  “It was all about my appearance. ‘Why is she dressed like this? Why does she have weaves on? Why isn’t she covered in a hijab and Abaya?  Why is the daughter of the late Ado Bayero dressed this way?’ I saw comments like I can’t be a Muslim. It’s not possible. ‘Who is this? How can she be a Zainab? It doesn’t make sense. How can she be the daughter of our beloved King?’ They said that I don’t represent what a Muslim woman should be because I was not all covered up.”

 “But I’m a Muslim,” she argues. “I do wear the Abayas and the hijabs, but not all the time.”

 “I don’t intend to succumb. Even if I wear a burka, I’m going to be attacked by the North. And that’s the truth because I’m not submissive; I’m not in the backseat. I’m not the woman who stays home and decides, oh no, I don’t want to have a career. I just want to be that wife,” she states firmly. “If you want to be a wife, I’m not saying that’s wrong, but I’m ambitious. I want more from life than just being that Muslim girl who’s submissive and stays behind the scenes. The North actually uses religion as an excuse, rather than saying it’s their culture.”

 She adds, “Every Zainab can’t look and act the same. Yes, I know Islam, we have this signature lookup. Yes, we have to cover up. But that’s changing because we are in the 21st century. Even in Saudi Arabia, the rules are changing; where women are now allowed to drive; before, they didn’t have a right to drive. Ten years ago, a woman in Saudi wasn’t even allowed to step out of her house because they said Muslim girls have no right to go out without a man’s permission. There was a time when a Muslim girl was whipped 100 times because she went out without permission. But now that’s changing.” 

Zainab thinks that in Nigeria, where “we have a country where it’s not just Muslims; we have Christians, Muslims and traditional religion, I don’t understand why Kano feels they have the right to judge every Muslim girl; how you act and what you do?”

“The truth is, even down in Kano, girls actually dress in Western ways. They do,” Zainab notes. “But I don’t understand why I’m being attacked so viciously. The reason, I think, is because my mom is not from the north.”

Zainab’s mother, Hauwa, hails from the royal family of Momoh in Auchi, Edo State. Her father was also a king, and she is a niece to the late Minister of Information and Culture, Prince Tony Momoh. She met the late Bayero while seeking admission to Bayero University, Kano. 

“He was my father’s friend,” says Hauwa, who hitherto didn’t interfere as her daughter fields questions. “I met him when I wanted to go to Bayero University. He was supposed to be my guardian so my father sent me to him. He sent some chiefs to bring me to him and I need not introduce myself because he could easily tell that I was my father’s daughter. I lived with him for over three decades, till his death.”

The animosity towards Zainab and her mother, apparently because they are not core northerners, became obvious after Bayero’s death. Zainab and her mother claimed that the older sons of Bayero, including the dethroned Emir of Kano Aminu Ado Bayero and his brother Nasiru, allegedly cut off any support.

“I’ve reached out to lots of people in the North, and they’ve refused to launch my project or help because the deposed Emir of Kano, Aminu Ado Bayero, has been sabotaging me,” she says. “Ever since my father’s demise, these two brothers who are supposed to be the new fathers and unite the family have decided to play games where some people are welcome, and some people are out in the cold. Me, my mom and brother are out in the cold. They feel that we don’t deserve to be part of the family or own any part of  his estate for whatever reasons.”

 Zainab adds, “When we ask for support from people who can help us, they will say they will get back to us, but once they speak with them, we never hear from them again. I don’t know what they say to them. I don’t know what they tell them, but they don’t help us. They (the Bayero brothers) don’t help us. They don’t let other people help us.”

 As if the attacks on her appearance weren’t enough, Zainab soon faced another controversy—an accusation that she had squandered money given to them by the Kano State government for accommodation.

 According to her, she had to publicly reach out to Governor Abba Yusuf through a newspaper publication, explaining their dire accommodation situation since efforts to reach him privately were futile.

 “We have been moving from one hotel to another, having stressful situations. Sometimes you have nowhere to go. My son is sometimes held hostage because we couldn’t settle the bills,” interjects Hauwa. “The current Emir, Mohammed Sanusi II, before he was reinstated, we told him at a point that my brother was held hostage because we owe some bills. Please help us. It was during Ramadan.”

 Zainab says the emir was shocked to hear about their plight and inquired about their debt, which was N250,000. 

 “He gave us N500,000 and asked us to hold on to the rest. Even his son took us to the place and truly saw that my brother was being held. We settled the bill; it was like about midnight,” says Zainab. “So he dropped us off at a restaurant because, at that point, we didn’t even know where to go. It was so late. The restaurant runs 24 hours, so we spent the night there, but by morning, we still did not know where to go.”

 They finally got somewhere in Lekki to manage for a few days. 

 “It was not easy because every hotel was quite expensive,” she says.

 They would later seek the help of the emir again, thanking him for what he had done so far, but would appreciate it if he could help them get a permanent home.

 She says, “My brother was not in school, and my documentary wasn’t getting launched.”

 However, the emir couldn’t help beyond what he had already done. At this point, Zainab decided to reach out to the governor.

 “It took a lot for me to seek the governor’s assistance to see our situation because it was just getting too much. He (Ahmed) was tortured. They were even threatening to evict us with the police. I was also still trying to get this project out there, giving interviews, but at the same time, I couldn’t focus because we didn’t have a home,” says Zainab. “So I just decided, okay, even though I didn’t want to talk about my private life, I knew I’d be scrutinised. I was already being judged for my appearance. I knew this would put more emphasis on my personal life. I was so uncomfortable, but I had no choice.”

 Her message got through to the governor, who sent his spokesman, Sanusi Bature, to attend to their demands. 

 “He settled the N2.5 million bill in the hotel where we were staying for three months. He gave us another N200,000. He also gave us N500,000 for upkeep,” Zainab explains, adding that Bature advised them to stay in the hotel for a while because they (the government) were busy at the time and they would see what they could do for them. “He also asked us how much we need. We told him a substantial amount for us to just start a life.”

 The governor offered them N10 million, including all previous debt and expenses. They managed to get the short-let and tried to regain some of their seized property. But the money was not enough, and again, Zainab thought of reaching out to the governor. In her second attempt, she was accused of squandering the money she received from the governor.

 “The next day, after the publication, I just started hearing stuff about me on social media that I squandered millions given to me by the Kano state governor. ‘I’m ungrateful. I’m trying to blackmail the governor and this and that. Am I even Ado Bayero’s daughter?’ I don’t know where the stories were coming from,” says Zainab. “But I was seeing videos on YouTube and TikTok. You know, everyone was just talking, and even some of the blogs in the south kept picking up the story, ‘a princess has squandered money given to her by the Kano state governor. She wants 150 million.’”

 “Yes, I said that,” she says admittedly, “but it was taken out of context.”

 She said in the interview that if the governor could help them get a suitable apartment, like a two- or three-bedroom apartment, she did not know how much such apartments cost in Lagos. And the figure was a random guess.

 “I spoke to the Chairman of the NNPP before I spoke the second time. I told him I needed the governor’s assistance and that if he could see me, we could talk more about this. The chairman said he would get back to me. But it was going on and on,” she clarifies.

 For a moment, Zainab lets her vulnerability slip from her veneer of composure. She confesses it has been emotionally draining for her since the backlash.

 “When the whole backlash came, especially from the Kano government,  portraying me as an entitled spoiled Princess, I’m like, I’ve been through hell since my dad died,” she says, her voice momentarily cracking. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. And my dad wasn’t even the kind of dad that spoiled kids like that.”

Zainab says people think he did, “but no, he wasn’t.”

She explains: “So I’m not some spoiled missus who feels entitled. No, I’m just in a very unfortunate situation where I’m born into an emirate where the patriarchal society is against me because of what I am, who I am, because of the circumstances of my mom not being from the north and me being different from other women in the royal home in Kano and the north, that is why I’m being attacked.”

Should an opportunity come for her to meet the governor of Kano today, Zainab says her demands would be: “If he could help us settle down, have a home, my brother gets back to school, we have the financial help we need to start our life to be independent and support my project.” 

She discloses that she has given up (for now) on her ambition of becoming a lawyer because of their pecuniary situation—the uncertainty of Zainab’s future looms.

“I have no idea where we’ll end up next when the rent expires in two days’ time,” she admits quietly. “No idea.”