Through unknown Nigeria

Kano City seen from a distance of a couple of miles presents no special features to the eye. It is practically indistinguishable from the surrounding country, which is flat and sparsely wooded. Fields of tall guinea-corn and clusters of trees screen the houses of the town. In their midst, however, two oblong hills, side by side, with flat tops, stand against the sky-line. That to the left, looking westward, is named Goron Dutsi, and the one to the right Dalla. On this hill the founder of the city is said to have lived more than 1,000 years ago. He, Berbushay, legend credits with having killed an elephant single-handed with his spear and carried the carcase on his head to a spot near his house. The place where the burden was put down became Kano, and Berbushay was its first Chief. He was not so ambitious as the rulers of the Balkan States to-day and did not aspire to the kingly title. That was assumed by one David, forerunner of the several conquerors of Kano. His success had been foretold a generation earlier by Berbushay, who apparently besides being a mighty hunter was also a bit of a prophet.

Nearer approach to Kano discloses an encircling wall, with tall date-palm trees standing sentinel-like. A closer examination shows the wall to have a thickness of 40 feet at its lowest part, and to run to a height of 50 feet. The top has half-circles, at the backs of which bow-and-arrow men could shoot with ease, and elsewhere this opportunity for defence is varied by mud compartments—as hard as stone—fashioned into the top of the wall where men could stand and use muskets through loopholes in the solid wall. A deep ditch lies in front of the wall, which has thirteen gates for entrance. The road to each gate narrows, with heavy, low side walls, so that an attacking party would be crowded into a small space, allowing few to press forward together. Several of the gates were further protected by the wall turning at an angle outwards, allowing missiles to be poured on the flank of an advance party.

Inside this Kano, less than eleven years ago, a slave market flourished, although the country was then a British Protectorate, and out of these gates there issued forth from time to time the then Emir and his thousands of mounted spearmen, setting out on slave-hunting expeditions, cheered by the loud-sounding drums and trumpets, and encouraged by the cries of the women-folk, who yelled to their lords to bear themselves well. So the Emir’s following rode on, raiding tracts of territory, carrying off the women and children, slaughtering male adults with never a second thought. When the dwellers in a village had wind of the coming onslaught and hid themselves, the raiders burnt the houses and crops to the ground, leaving the people to perish by exposure and starvation. Thus was the land being depopulated. In 50 years it had been decreased to less than a fifth.

In 1900 organised raids on a large scale, to keep up the supply of slaves, were brazenly carried on by the Emir of Bida and the Emir of Kontagora, almost within sight of the British administrative headquarters—then at Jebba—where the High Commissioner, Sir Frederick Lugard, sat impotent. It was as much as he could do to maintain his hold on the Provinces occupied, for the large contingent of troops—1,200—he had to supply for the Ashanti War had left Northern Nigeria helpless to stop the murder, plunder, and slave-hunting that was taking place from the north.

With the return of the native soldiers the subsidiary Emirs were dealt with separately, but Kano, the political centre, the strong place of Hausaland, stood out defiantly. Sir Frederick Lugard tried persuasion, for he realised that his resources were not on a scale to tackle the great fortress city of Kano unless at much risk.

The wall ran to a circumference of just over 11 miles, and the town had means of maintaining those within it indefinitely. Herds of cattle and sheep, and wide grazing grounds for raising more, acres on which were grown corn and wheat, gave a supply of food far in excess of requirements and made a siege, even were an army available for an investment, a futile proceeding.

Could Sir Frederick but bring the Emir to a peaceful frame of mind tremendous dangers would be avoided. But the Emir treated all overtures with contumely or open defiance and provocation. Still, the High Commissioner cultivated patience. An unsuccessful attack on Kano would be immediately followed by a rising of the most powerful Moslem Provinces. Some who had made their submission were suspect, and others were merely waiting to see whether Kano, to which their eyes were turned, and on which their hopes rested, would be able to defy the new Power which had established itself in the southern Provinces.

An event took place which brought the situation to a climax. The Magasi—Viceroy—of Keffi murdered a British Resident with his own hands and fled to Kano. The Emir challenged the High Commissioner, not only by giving the murderer refuge but by providing him with a house and according him the place of honour on the Emir’s right hand in royal and public processions.

That was in 1902, and if there were any remaining doubts of the sentiments of the Emir they were swept away by his organising an expedition and marching at the head of it to attack the British garrison at Zaria, only 90 miles to the south, in November of the same year. Perhaps fortunately for us, the Emir and his armies turned back, on word reaching him that the Emir of Katsena refused to be drawn into the enterprise. But possibly others might, especially if they saw the now defiant, truculent Emir of Kano not only flouting the High Commissioner but actually taking steps to overrun a Province in which his representatives had been accepted and over which the British flag flew. Unless the whole country was to remain in a condition of ferment, unrest and apprehension, clearly there was only one course for the High Commissioner, and that was to strike, if he could. He determined to make the attempt.

As many troops as could be collected—as could be spared from other parts—were assembled at Zaria. They were exclusively Protectorate soldiers, for quickness in delivering the blow was a great factor towards the chance of success. The force was made up of 550 infantry, 101 mounted infantry, 71 artillerymen with 475 mm. guns and 4 Maxims, and the following Europeans: 24 officers, 2 doctors, 12 non-commissioned officers. Colonel Morland, D.S.O., was in command.

On the night of February 2 the column camped at the Shallawa River, 6 miles from Kano and next morning advanced on Kano, leaving the carriers in a zariba guarded by 2 officers and 75 men.

First an attempt was made to blow in the Dukawayia Gate, but it was so constructed that the guns could not be placed where their projectiles would strike. Then the guns were turned on the mud wall, in the endeavour to break it down or make a breach. The shells had absolutely no effect. Though of mud, the great thickness of the wall, baked by the sun’s rays to the hardness of stone, remained intact.

The position was not a comforting one, in fact it was distinctly bad, for unless the city was taken, and taken quickly, the besiegers were likely to find themselves in the position of being besieged or of retiring, with Kano immensely enhanced in prestige by having driven off the English. The result would undoubtedly have been a general rebellion over the entire northern Provinces of the Protectorate, and possibly in the southern ones as well. Colonel Morland saw the impossibility of carrying the Dukawayia Gate and at the same time was impressed with the necessity of fulfilling Sir Frederick Lugard’s plan. The town must be taken.

Although several of the gates had been built in the manner of the Dukawayia, the mounted infantry, which was commanded by Major Porter, reconnoitered and discovered a gate, the Kukabuga, where a gun could be trained without the gunners being under fire from the walls. A move was made to that point, the gate quickly breached, and a storming party, led by Lieutenants Dyer and Gascoyne and Sergeant Lefanu, rushed through. On a broad, open space a short distance ahead a large body of horsemen carrying spears were preparing to charge. A gun which was at the heels of the leading troops was quickly brought into action and a single shell discharged into the mass of horsemen scattered them. They never re-formed. The enemy manning the wall were easily driven off. As Colonel Morland’s column moved into the city the defenders broke up and all real resistance had ended. There was some slight fighting on entry being made into the Emir’s Palace. That was all.

The Emir had gone to Sokoto previous to the arrival of the British, taking 2,000 mounted fighting men with him. The force he had left to defend the city now streamed out with the intention of joining him. They were directed to surrender their arms, and, not doing so, Colonel Morland ordered them to be broken up, which was done by the mounted infantry.

Colonel Morland and his staff took up quarters in the Emir’s Palace, and so readily was the new order of things accepted by the inhabitants that a few hours later British officers were strolling about the streets, unattended, sightseeing. The very next day the market resumed most of its activities, and within three days from the entry was again in full swing, with a notable omission: the slave section had disappeared. The Headmen of the people were invited by Sir Frederick Lugard to elect the new Emir. Selection fell on the Wombai, the deposed Emir’s brother, who had counselled him to submit to the British. He is on the throne to-day.