• Appeal to Governor Sani for borehole, overhead tank
From Sola Ojo, Abuja
After Lagos and Kano states, Kaduna is the third most populous state in Nigeria. Apart from being the political hatchery of Northern Nigeria, the state also contributes significantly to the national economy. This year, its internally generated revenue currently stands at N120 billion.
In the 80s, 90s and early 2000s, Kaduna was home to many textile and garment industries, providing direct and indirect employment for thousands of people, all located in the heart of Kakuri, Kaduna South Local Government area of the state.
However, beyond the noise of traffic and market banter, lies a vibrant yet often overlooked economic ecosystem: Kakuri slaughterhouse.
For over a decade, this slaughterhouse has not only supplied meat to thousands of homes and eateries across Kaduna State but has also served as a vital source of livelihood for a diverse group of workers whose daily hustle keeps the supply chain moving smoothly.
At the centre of it all is Imam Shuaibu, a 42-year-old butcher who has spent more than 12 years slaughtering animals at the facility. “I have lost count of the number of animals I have slaughtered here, even when we keep a record of each animal.
“For me, slaughtering animals in this abattoir is not just a job, it is my life, and as long as people need meat, we will keep doing our part,” he said.
But Imam is only one among many who depend on this abattoir to feed their families, educate their children, and build their futures. This slaughterhouse is an integrated ecosystem of labour, layered roles, shared earnings, and growing economic challenges.
As the lead butcher, Imam commands deep respect among his peers. His skill in slaughtering goats, sheep, cows and any other animals legitimately brought to him has earned him recognition across the market.
On a busy day, he could process up to 150 animals, a sharp drop from the 200–300 daily peak in better economic times, especially when the Kaduna economy was booming.
“We’ve seen better days. But even now, this work puts food on the table for many families and pays the medical and education bills of many of us,” he added.
After slaughtering, animals are passed on to a group of roasters, who burn off the fur in preparation for further processing.
According to Imam Shuaibu, each roaster earns ₦200 per goat, standing for hours over open flames in intense heat and smoke. It’s tough work, but essential, they said.
Next in line are the skinners, who peel the hide from the carcass with practised ease, preparing the meat for washing and cutting.
Together, they make up the backbone of the meat-prep team, earning piecework pay that adds up with volume.
Another set of hands, the washers, ensure the meat is cleaned thoroughly before cutting. Paid ₦100 per goat, and sometimes, pieces of meat here and there, their job is physically demanding and critical for food safety.
Working with water in less-than-ideal sanitary conditions, they often bear the brunt of infrastructure shortcomings, from lack of running water to limited proper waste disposal.
Also part of the back-end crew are cleaners who maintain the slaughterhouse premises, sweeping bloodied floors and disposing of remains to avoid health hazards. They are paid from the union’s portion of the ₦150 per-goat processing fee.
Meat cutters are the final hands in the processing chain before the meat reaches traders and consumers. Earning ₦200 per goat, their job requires speed, knowledge of different meat cuts, and attention to detail to meet customer preferences.
One of them is Gabriel, who said, despite the pressures, many of them see the job as stable compared to other informal sector roles.
“Having spent years doing this over and over, I can separate a goat into parts within just a few minutes irrespective of the size,” he said.
Meanwhile, before these animals are taken to the slaughter section of Kakuri Monday market, some traders source the animals from far and near.
Traders such as those represented by the Secretary, Zango Kakuri Multipurpose Cooperative Society, Ma’awiya Adamu, continue to face tough odds.
“We don’t sell fewer than 1,000 animals on regular days because our customers come from different places. But buyers now want credit.
“Many of our buyers are women and they buy on credit. That is not good for us because, apart from the fact that it affects business turnover, it also affects our daily lives.
“For example, I am a 400-level Geography student at Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria. How can I pay my school fees, buy learning materials and feed in school when people don’t pay for animals they buy?” he decried.
With Nigeria’s economic strain pushing more customers into debt, many traders find themselves stuck in a cycle of unpaid sales and reduced cash flow.
“Credit is killing our business. People don’t pay back in time, and it affects how many animals we can bring in because the villagers won’t accept credit,” lamented Alhaji Sani Wadatau, chairman, Zango Kakuri Multipurpose Cooperative Society.
According to Sarki Zango, Alhaji Musa Juli used to supply livestock to the Kakuri slaughterhouse from distant places like Zamfara, Sokoto, and Zangon Kataf, but the meat processing facility now relies heavily on local sourcing due to growing insecurity in those regions.
“This shift has not only increased prices but limited availability, further squeezing the margins of those who work in the trade,” he said.
Beyond daily operations, lack of infrastructure is a recurring burden. Workers and traders alike lamented poor road conditions, absence of boreholes, and unreliable electricity.
“We need water for our animals, and sometimes we go for days without public water supply”.
“Power supply remains another unfulfilled promise. A politician came and promised solar power, but we’re still waiting.
“We appeal to our dear Governor, Senator Uba Sani, to extend his capital projects to us in this market”, Adamu requested.
A goat meat consumer who spoke in confidence said, “Since the experts say meat sources like goat and chicken are lower in fat and calories, we have to shuttle between them, even though none come cheaper now.”
From the roaster by the fire to the cleaner sweeping at dawn, the butcher’s blade to the trader’s ledger, the Kakuri slaughterhouse represents more than meat.
With over 300 direct animal dealers and dressers, this slaughterhouse that shares location with Defence Industries Corporation of Nigeria (DICON), Kaduna, is a symbol of resilience, a network of interdependent livelihoods, and a cultural stronghold for those who believe in dignity through labour.
And in Imam Shuaibu’s words: “As long as people need meat, we will be here working, surviving and hoping for a better tomorrow.”