Bello Bala Shagari’s recent piece in the Daily Nigerian cloaks itself in civility but ultimately advances a long-standing tradition of Fulani revisionism: one that sanitizes the brutal conquest of Hausaland, mystifies the Sokoto Jihad as mere “reform,” and vilifies any Hausa who dares to demand a full account of the past. But history, no matter how long it is buried, will always speak. And today, we must let it speak especially about the blood spilled in places like ‘Yandoto.
‘Yandoto: The Forgotten Massacre of Hausa Muslim Scholars
The narrative of the Sokoto Jihad as an Islamic “awakening” collapses under the weight of its own contradictions. One of the most chilling examples of this is the massacre of hundreds of Hausa Muslim scholars in the Islamic city of ‘Yandoto, and the destruction of their towns over 50 towns burning, Islamic books and research destroyed ordered directly by Usman Ɗan Fodio and executed by his son, Muhammad Bello.
According to pages 138–139 of Infāq’ul-Maisūr, authored by Muhammad Bello himself, the attack on ‘Yandoto was not against pagans or idolaters it was a targeted assault on Hausa Muslim scholars. These were scholars who had simply refused to support the Fulani campaign of bloodshed against fellow Muslims. Their “crime”? Expelling Fulani informants from their Islamic university and rejecting the theology of warfare against Muslims.
Bello describes how Fulani agents were embedded as students in the Islamic institutions of ‘Yandoto. When the scholars discovered their covert allegiance to Ɗan Fodio’s cause, they expelled them. Enraged, Ɗan Fodio commanded his son to mobilize an army to crush this intellectual dissent. The Fulani gathered resources, formed a battalion, and invaded the city.
When the Fulani agent Sambo Ɗan Ashifā’ returned to the scholars with a message of theological “dialogue,” they replied:
“We will not debate him. We do not even wish to see him. May Allah never unite us with Bello or his father—neither in this world nor the hereafter.”
This principled refusal became the pretext for war. Muhammad Bello and his army executed the scholars, burned down their institutions, destroyed manuscripts, and enslaved their communities. This was not the work of reformers it was the behavior of a rising elite eliminating rival Muslim authorities to cement an ethnic empire.
The Prophetic Sunnah on Jihad: A Standard They Violated
What occurred in ‘Yandoto stands in direct violation of the teachings of Prophet Muhammad (SAW):
“The blood, property, and honor of every Muslim is sacred to another Muslim.” (Sahih Muslim, Hadith 2564)
“Cursing a Muslim is sin; fighting him is disbelief.” (Bukhari 48, Muslim 64)
“Whoever kills a believer intentionally, his reward is Hell, to abide therein forever…” (Qur’an, An-Nisā’, 4:93)
These are not ambiguous teachings. The Prophet prohibited jihad against Muslims, the destruction of religious texts, and the murder of scholars unless they bore arms against Islam. The scholars of ‘Yandoto bore no such arms. They bore only books, pens, and principles.
Shehu al-Kanemi: A Contemporary Voice of Reproof
Let us not forget that Shehu al-Kanemi of Borno, a contemporary Muslim scholar and ruler, challenged Muhammad Bello’s claims to legitimacy. In his letter to Bello, al-Kanemi denounced the destruction of Ƴandoto’s Islamic university and condemned the burning of Islamic texts:
“You have discarded the sacred books onto the ground. These books bear the name of Allah. Whoever knowingly throws the name of Allah to the ground is a disbeliever.” (Cited in S.A. Albasu, quoting Arnett, E.J.)
This is a rebuke from one Muslim scholar to another not a colonial narrative, but Islamic testimony against Fulani violence.
A Pattern of Supremacy, Not Reform
From Ngazargamu in Borno to Alkalawa in Gobir and ‘Yandoto in Zamfara, the Sokoto Jihad followed a predictable pattern: burn, kill, enslave, and install Fulani hegemony. In the book Kano Ta Dabo Cigari (p. 83), it is even recorded that Usman Ɗan Fodio denied Hausa Muslims the right to rule because he believed only Fulani could uphold “pure Islam.” Such a worldview is not reformist it is supremacist.
Even in his Sirāj al-Ikhwān (p. 19), Ɗan Fodio defamed the Hausa as idol worshippers a falsehood easily disproven by earlier Islamic scholarship. Works like Miʿirāj as-Saʿūd (pp. 22–28) document Hausa Islam as flourishing 800 years before the Fulani rebellion.
Takfīr as a Weapon of Conquest
Usman Ɗan Fodio’s jihad rested on one dangerous theological shortcut: takfīr declaring Muslims as disbelievers for not following his path. Yet Prophet Muhammad (SAW) warned:
“If a man calls his brother a kāfir, one of them will bear it. If the accusation is false, it returns to the accuser.” (Bukhari, Muslim)
Imam al-Nawawi further ruled that if a statement can be interpreted in 99 ways as disbelief and in 1 way as belief, we must choose the way of belief. But the Fulani jihadists did the opposite. They exploited takfīr to justify slaughter and seizure.
Justice, Not Silence
The truth of ‘Yandoto and the wider jihad must be told not to inflame, but to inform. It is not the reclamation of Hausa history that distorts the record, but the centuries of censorship and intimidation by those who fear an honest reckoning.
While Boyd and Shagari argue that the jihad united Fulani, Hausa, and others under a shared Islamic reform agenda, the historical facts reveal a more complex and often divisive reality marked by ethnic rivalry and political struggles.
Take Aliyu Jeɗo, for example. He was Fulani and married into the ɗan Fodio family, yet he was notorious for his cruelty. Like Bello in Kebbi, Jeɗo seized the home of a Hausa man along with his wife and property, claiming them as spoils of war. When the Hausa man resisted, Jeɗo killed him, declaring the man, his wife, and home as his rightful gains. Some brought complaints against Jeɗo to Abdullahi Gwandu, who then reported to ɗan Fodio. Since the jihad claimed to be governed by Shari’a law, Jeɗo should have faced punishment, but instead ɗan Fodio granted him a large territory to rule most of which is now in Niger. This injustice caused serious conflict between Abdullahi Gwandu and ɗan Fodio, as well as with ɗan Fodio’s son Bello.
Musa Bamalli was indeed Fulani, but even so, the 2024 Emir of Zazzau, a descendant of Musa Bamalli, proudly declares his Fulani heritage while affirming that his family has never mixed blood with any other ethnic group, FUDECO 2024 Fulani Day. Historically, since Musa Bamalli’s time, Fulani rulers have been installed in Zazzau, which contradicts the narrative that the jihad was a unifying movement for all ethnicities. Bala Shagari’s claim that it was purely inclusive overlooks these realities.
Moreover, the earliest accusations of ethnic bias against ɗan Fodio’s jihad actually came from prominent Hausa commanders within the movement, such as Sheikh Abdulsalam Bagimbane, who opposed ɗan Fodio’s approach and ultimately lost his life over these disputes. Likewise, scholars from regions like ‘Yandoto and Borno, including El-Kanemi, rejected the jihad’s war on fellow Muslims and were persecuted for it.
Thus, while the jihad presented itself as an Islamic reform movement, the historical record shows it was also deeply marked by ethnic rivalries, political power struggles, and violence even against Hausa Muslims.
A Rebellion, Not a Reform
Shagari’s article continues the tired narrative that the Sokoto jihad was purely an Islamic reform movement aimed at spiritual renewal. But historical reality tells a more complex—and less flattering story. The Fulani rebellion was not a unifying call for Islamic justice. It was a coordinated ethnic uprising, cloaked in religious rhetoric, which ultimately replaced Hausa sovereignty with Fulani domination. That is not a conspiracy it is the documented course of events.
The Fulani, welcomed as guests by Hausa rulers and integrated into the political and religious fabrics of Hausa society, eventually turned against their hosts. Claiming moral and religious superiority, they declared jihad against those very people who had given them land, protection, and opportunity. Far from “reviving” Islam, they shattered the fragile ethnic harmony of Hausaland and instituted a hierarchy that placed the Hausa at the bottom even those who had fought alongside them.
The Lie of Tax Abolition
One of the most glaring contradictions in the so-called jihad was the promise—echoed in Fulani sermons and calls to arms—that Islam forbade taxation. This message resonated with many impoverished Hausa Muslims who viewed their rulers as corrupt. Yet, once power changed hands, the new Fulani elite not only retained taxation but expanded it drastically. Jangali (cattle tax), which had been modest under Hausa administration, was increased over 400 times. The claim that the Caliphate brought justice is nullified by this brazen economic exploitation.
Selective Morality: The Execution of Hausa Allies
Shagari references the multi-ethnic composition of the jihad’s ranks as proof of its noble intention. Yet what became of those non-Fulani allies? One need only recall the fate of Abdulsalam Bagimbane Alhawasawi, a respected Hausa leader who fought in the jihad but dared to question the marginalization of his people. He was executed by Muhammad Bello—Dan Fodio’s own son. So much for unity and moral purity.
Colonialism Is Not the Author of Hausa Truth
It is intellectually lazy to dismiss criticism of the Fulani rebellion as a colonial invention. Hausa scholars and victims of the Caliphate’s rule voiced dissent long before the British arrived. The Fulani use of the term Haɓe to mock and dehumanize indigenous Hausa Muslims is not a colonial fabrication but a cultural insult embedded in Fulani supremacy.
Moreover, quoting Hugh Clapperton, as Shagari does, does not strengthen his case. Clapperton noted the intelligence and organization of Sokoto, yes but he also recorded how the Fulani had enslaved, oppressed, and displaced countless Hausa communities. Why selectively quote history if you claim to defend it?
A Legacy of Oppression, Not Unity
Let us not romanticize the Sokoto Caliphate as a model of Islamic justice. It was built on betrayal, subjugation, and contradiction. Hausa villages were raided. Hausa farmers fined and overtaxed. Hausa Muslims denied leadership because they were not Fulani. Even rural Hausa communities, fleeing Fulani-imposed taxes, were hunted down and enslaved. This was not reform it was imperialism under the banner of religion.
We Must Tell Our Story Ourselves
The Fulani rebellion shattered Hausa sovereignty and redefined leadership through the prism of ethnic elitism. To this day, Hausa people remain politically and spiritually marginalized in many of the territories seized during the so-called jihad. And now, when Hausas begin to challenge that legacy, they are accused of “tribal ego” or falling for “colonial distortions.” That tactic of silencing dissent through guilt is no longer effective.
Shehu Usman Dan Fodio may have been sincere in some of his intentions, but sincerity does not absolve one from the consequences of one’s actions. The movement he led and the empire his followers built was neither inclusive nor just. It was an ethnic conquest masked as religious renewal.
Let us be clear:
The Sokoto Jihad was not a movement of mercy, but one of blood, betrayal, and burning.
It targeted not just unbelievers, but Muslims who differed intellectually.
It imposed Fulani ethnic dominance, not Islamic unity.
And its legacy still silences dissent under the guise of pan-Islamic brotherhood.
But that silence is ending. As the African proverb goes: “Until the lions have their own historians, the history of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.”
Today, the Hausa are telling their story proudly, boldly, and truthfully. And no amount of revisionism can bury ‘Yandoto, nor the blood of its martyred scholars.
* Culled from Gimbiyar Hausa page on Facebook. “Khalid Alhawasawi”, said to be based in Kaduna, is believed to be a pen name.
