A Father’s Long Wait for Identity

In the quiet village of Layin Gidan Dinya in Limawa Ward, Kumbotso LGA, Kano State, the arrival of a birth registration documentary team stirred unexpected emotions. Among the curious onlookers was 53-year-old Nuhu Muhammed, a farmer and trader, whose story of resilience and determination unfolded as the day progressed.

For years, Nuhu had grappled with silent anguish: many of his children had no official birth records.

“I don’t know my own birth date,” he shared, a painful admission that has haunted and also motivated him to ensure that his children never have to live through such uncertainties of fate.

Yet, despite his efforts, access to birth registration seemed out of reach, hindered by distance, lack of awareness and systemic inefficiencies.

Curiously enough, a fully operational mobile registration center (operated by adhoc staff of the National Population Commission with support from UNICEF) sat housed at a health outpost, rather close to the village’s primary school.  Many like Nuhu had assumed that this center was strictly for medical services. Neither he nor his wives had realized that it offered the vital service they had long sought. 

That morning, however, a brief community session led by the UNICEF team changed everything for NUHU and his family.

As the importance of birth registration was explained, Nuhu’s curiosity turned into urgency. He rushed home, his determination to secure this application for his child, palpable.

Moments later, Nuhu reappeared, this time pedaling furiously on his old bicycle. His 7-year-old daughter, Abida, propped behind him. Her tiny hands clung tightly to his waist as he rode towards the health outpost, where hope and a birth registration awaited.

He returned however, betraying an expression of deep disappointment.

Concerned, the team approached him. “Why did you rush off and why do you look so upset now?”

Nuhu revealed his frustration, recounting years of failed attempts to secure official documentation for his children. This time the system had failed to recognize their fingerprints, and Nuhu was asked to return for another attempt, at a later date. 

In the absence of formal records, he even devised his own rudimentary system: an old, fragile piece of paper where he painstakingly recorded the names and birth dates of each child. He carried the paper with him that day and held it up for us to see, its edges frayed, and the handwriting smudged but legible.

Nuhu’s inability to officially register his family through this district-head-led registration system, which had briefly provided him some hope, ended abruptly, leaving such families without records.

Later, the process moved to the Local Government Area (LGA) headquarters, far from the village, where his repeated attempts to register his children, continued to prove futile.

He even considered paying for the service when one of his daughters was denied school enrollment due to a lack of documentation, but that effort too, failed.