MY INTRODUCTION TO THE PRAYER MARKET
SOKOTO, NIGERIA
(8/15/16)
As we drove towards Sokoto, rolling hills lifted the city up from the plains, and a landscape dotted with white buildings appeared on the horizon. This historic city is the center of the Caliphate established by Ousman ɗan Fodio in 1820 when his jihad for Islamic reform displaced the rulers of the Hausa state of Gobir. It’s also the administrative capital of present-day Nigeria’s Sokoto state. There are two governments here: one religious, the other secular. I’m beginning to see how much the lines are blurred.
For this leg of the journey, I’m traveling as part of a 3-person JND delegation. Djamilatou Amadou, the association’s national president, is our chief-of-party. A graduate of Niger’s flagship University Abdou Moumouni, she teaches History and Geography in Niamey at a public secondary school. Cheikh Aboubacar’s neice, Fatiya Mounbagna, is representing the Family. Beautiful, elegant and soft-spoken, she is a business woman who specializes in high-end fashion. Our driver seems to know every customs agent and border guard along the Niger-Nigeria highway. He is equally at home navigating the streets of Sokoto. As soon as we arrived in the city, he drove directly to the Shukura Hotel, where we were welcomed as guests of Aminu Waziri Tanbuwal, the Governor of Sokoto state.
I soon realized that we are relying on the Governor to arrange the Sokoto screening. But the Governor traveled to China, and his return has been delayed. Our instructions are to sit tight and wait. Djamilatou contacted leaders of the Tijaniyya Zawiya in Sokoto, who told us they want a big outdoor event with food. Knowing we are in town as guests of the Governor, they are letting his people to run the show.
While waiting, I decided to follow-up with Sultan Sa’ad Abubaka III. I had e-mailed him from Niamey, but received no reply. With Djamila’s permission, I phoned Galadiman Gari Attihiru, whose number I have from our meeting at the Wilson Center in D.C. Unfortunately, Attihiru didn’t pick up. The man who answered gave me another number, saying it was Attihiru’s direct line. Yet again, no response. So I asked Djamilatou if our driver could take me to the Sultan’s palace the next morning. She consented.
INSIDE THE SULTAN’S PALACE
(8/16/16)
We arrived at the palace around 10:30a.m. I knocked at the outside door, and much to my surprise, a guard opened, asked why I had come, then let me in. After looking at my passport, he directed me to continue through the courtyard to the palace entry. Without asking permission, my driver entered the main gate and parked the car. Maybe they were expecting us?
Once inside the Sultan’s palace, I felt strangely at ease. The interior architecture was familiar. Hausa men in their off-white robes and embroidered pill box hats—lounging on benches or sprawled on the floor—mirrored the look and behavior of their co-ethnics in Niger. Hausa dogari (guards) wearing bright red turbans and red-and-green robes stood in the entry-way, keeping an eye on the comings-and-goings. The scene took me back some 40 years, to my days as a graduate student doing fieldwork on the Gobir Hausa chieftaincy in Tsibiri, Niger. Then it hit me: Sarkin Gobir Agada Nagogo is a descendant of Sokoto’s Hausa ruler who was ousted from power by Outhman ɗan Fodio’s jihad for Islamic reform. The deposed Sarkin Gobir fled north to Tibiri, where he set up a capital-in-exile, and fought unsuccessfully to regain his throne.
The next thing I knew, the man in black was handing me his cellphone. Galadiman Gari Attihiru was on the line. He advised that I should sit and wait just a bit longer. An escort appeared who took me to a private sitting room decorated with symbols of colonial and post-colonial power: large throne-like chairs, historical photos of past Sultans with British Colonial Governors, a young queen Elizabeth, Bill Gates with his son, and a boyhood photo of the current Sultan with his classmates at Nigeria’s elite Barewa College, Zaria.
Roughly an hour passed before a new escort arrived, walked me back to the palace entry, and deposited me in the hallway in front of the public receiving room. The door opened, and I saw H.E. sitting on a throne. I paused. He beckoned me forward and pointed to the seat at his side. I was neither expecting nor prepared for a meeting today. Wearing a denim skirt and pink sleeveless blouse, I certainty wasn’t dressed for the occasion. After an exchange of greetings, I squared my shoulders, tried to sat tall in the chair, and did my best to show proper respect. Then I pulled out my copy of the picture taken of me talking with H.E. at the Wilson Center, and reminded him about the MAMA KYOTA documentary. Explaining that I had come to Sokoto as part of a JND delegation, I requested an audience for our group, and asked for help with securing a venue for screening the movie.
After learning that I’ve been working with the local Tidjaniyya leadership to organize the screening, H.E. offered me some advice:
If this Mama of yours is as good as you say, why are spending your time showing the movie to people who already know who she is? You should reach out to other religious groups – like the Qadiriyya … and some Christians.
The Qadiriyya is presently the largest Sufi tariqa in Sokoto region, and in years past competed with the Tijaniyya for followers. But in the current threat environment, the leaders have joined forces to combat the current threat environment fomented by Boko Haram and their like. Mama Kiota’s message of Reconciliation and Solidarity in Islam, projected in a movie co-hosted by the Sultan of Sokoto (Qadiriyya) and the Governor of Sokoto (Tijaniyya) might prove useful in this circumstance. Apparently, we are of the same mind.
H.E. told me he holds receiving hours daily between 11am-1pm. If our delegation shows up tomorrow, bright and early, we will see the Sultan. Before leaving, I gave Sultan Abubakar a copy of my MAMA KYOTA DVD. He said he’d try to view it tonight, and may give me some feedback. Then he added, “Tell your people we can take pictures.”
The Galadima escorted me out, and promised we’d discuss plans for the screening when I return tomorrow.
THE PRAYER MARKET
When I got back to the hotel and told Djamilla the news, she gave me a high five, and responded with good news of her own: the Governor is due back tomorrow! Later this evening I learned that Governor Tanbuwal has a personal stake in the successful screening of the movie here in Sokoto. Mama Kiota is his Spiritual Guide. Since 2003, their relationship has been mediated through the Prayer Market.
For her many followers, Saïda Oumul Khairy Niasse is a divine. Her services are solicited by individuals in Niger and beyond, and people travel to her home in Kiota seeking blessings. It’s been a longstanding practice in West Africa for certain elites to rely on a Muslim Shayk for spiritual protection and guidance. Since precolonial times, such individuals have typically sought help with “gaining prosperity, professional advancement, fertility, or healing” for themselves or a family member. (1) Fees are paid in exchange for petitionary prayers. This practice continues, and in its current form even people of modest means may turn to the prayer market for help or solace.
My movie includes two glimpses of the public side of this process: a woman struggling with infertility visits Mama in her bedroom late at night seeking help, and a wealthy Nigerian man kneels at Mama’s feet in her public sitting room, taking her picture as she fingers prayer beads. Well-to-do Muslims in this part of the world spend considerable money in the prayer market.
(1) Ousman Oumar Kane, Beyond Timbuktu: An Intellectual History of Muslim West Africa (Harvard University Press, 2016, p. 520 iBook).
Mama Kiota's Message 