By Henry Akubuiro
It is rare to find a Nigerian author who has been copious in talking about his people like Bukar Usman. Through folkloric and historical narratives, Bukar Usman has made himself an authority on Biu chronicles. Through his books, readers from far and wide travel to Biu, without being physically present, for intellectual and amazing discoveries. One of the author’s books that sheds light on aspects of Biu Emirate’s educational development is Girl-Child Education in Biu Emirate: The Years (Klamidas Books: 2014).
Usman begins by tracing the emergence of Biu Emirate as a traditional state, made up of four local governments: Bayo,
Biu, Hawul, and Kwaya-Kusar. Before its present configuration, the emirate fell under the defunct Biu Federation, created in 1957, which included two additional local government areas of Askira/Uba and Shani. Delving into history, the author recounts that the Biu chiefdom dates back to the mid 16th century, founded in 1535 by the patriarch, Abdullahi, better known Yamtarawala. But the chiefdom only became stable around 1670 during the reign of Mari Watila Tampta.
Typical of Usman’s scholarly interventions, the author journeys to the past to enlighten us about this part of Borno State, which has long been associated with education. Citing the case of Kidawa Sawa, a Bura female child born in the 19th century at Kukurupu, Usman recounts that she grew up at a time when there was no formal education in the area. She was, therefore, traditionally educated. In those days, the education of boys and girls was incorporated into the community’s everyday experiences and ways of life, says Usman.
“It was basically informal: everyone learnt from everyone else through inter-personal interaction. And so the girl-child, in various informal ways, particularly via observation and participation, imbibed the norms of her society and acquired necessary skills deemed suitable for a daughter, wife, mother, and subsistence farmer,” writes Usman. In the case of Kidawa, her first lessons in traditional practices began right from childhood.
Usman states that, before the introduction of Western education in Biu Emirate, the girl-child and boy-child education followed different routes. While the boy-child was usually occupied as an apprentice of sorts in outdoor agricultural activities or engaged in rearing the family’s goats and sheeps (sometimes both) or sent to understudy an artisan, the girl-child’s education generally took place at home: learning how to cook, process farm produce into raw flour, make fresh beverages, and store food items in silos and other natural storage methods. She was also taught how to spin clothing materials.
The traditional education was also patterned to have boys and girls to participate in some joint educational activities, like the makumthla (folklore) or tales-by-moonlight sessions, which served as the equivalent of formal elementary education with the interactive sessions that came at the end of each story. The adult storyteller functioned as the teacher, who fielded questions from the young minds on the issues raised in the story, and his responses educated them. The adult storyteller could also serve as a moderator in quiz segments emanating from the makumthla dza-dza (quizzes, riddles and jokes) sessions conceived to develop the child’s intelligence. Usman reveals that the “dza-dza quizzes cover a variety of issues anchored on both inductive and deductive reasoning, and the children, having been mentally exercised, generally emerged from the guessing game with their IQs enhanced.”
Banking on Kidawa’s revelation, the author informs that the girl-child in the traditional setting could undertake outdoor responsibilities when the family had no boy-child to do so.
This could mean participating in herding. Birma Ali, a contemporary of Kidawa, however, told Usman that a girl-child from a polygamous home, regardless of the presence of sons in the house, might still be compelled to go herding goats or sheeps.
Before the dawn of Western education in Biu Emirate, Usman chronicles that the education of the girl-child, through traditional and informal, covered broad areas, including sex education.
Without segregating the girl-child from the boy-child in the workplace or at playgrounds, high moral standards were maintained. The author explains why: “Lessons imbibed from folktales and strong taboos anchored on civic and religious codes seemed to have laid deep moral foundations for pre-marital discipline and self-control. And so both the girl-child and the boy-child from different families mixed up and played freely and responsibly.” Though there were reported cases of juvenile delinquencies, sexual misdemeanors were rarely reported.
By playing with boys during moonlights, the girl-child was informally introduced to what would form a critical aspect of her adult life, relationship wise. She was also taught sex education and the implications of getting pregnant without marriage first, privately by her mother, which kept her in check. Usman’s book also highlights special education given to the girl-child. These include the education of traditional female midwives, witch-doctors, porters and weavers. These apprentices were selected based on their perceived talents, interest, occupational heritage or family ties.
For instance, a girl-child whose mother or relative was a traditional midwife might be recommended to be trained as one to inherit her midwifery practice. This interesting book opens our eyes to the beauty of African traditional education and how it impacts on nous, affects morality, leadership, culture, medical practice, agriculture and social life.