Category Archives: Hausa film

Missing Kannywood

During the celebration of Kannywood at 20 (c) Sani Maikatanga

During the celebration of Kannywood at 20, Kano, December 2010 (c) Sani Maikatanga

There are many posts I have wanted to write, but I put them off because there is always something else I am supposed to be doing.  I am currently skipping over an important post I have been planning for a month, namely, the election and the euphoria of Buhari’s win (when people stood in line all day and all night to vote and partied on Twitter) and a series of photos I took in Lagos during the second election for House of Assembly members and governors. Hopefully I will get to that.

Today, though, I am missing Kannywood. Where I live now, in western Nigeria, I have made friends with a young Hausa girl in Junior Secondary 2. She comes to my house to visit me, and we talk in Hausa, she braids my hair and asks to see photos of Kannywood. I scroll through old albums. She wants to see photos of Adam A. Zango and Sadiq Sani Sadiq, who she calls “mijina.” I have so many folders ordered by month and day that I cannot quite remember where everything is, so I swoop in at random and pull things up, and usually it is something she wants to see. I think maybe on this blog, I should start posting random photos every week, if I don’t have anything else to write about.

So, here, today, I will post a few photos of the years I was in Kano and involved in Kannywood– it was equal parts glamor and exhaustion, occasionally terrifying for a shy me, at over-long bikis, on film sets, and industry meetings, workshops, and award ceremonies.  But more than anything, it was community. I felt like I had been adopted into a family, and I spent much of my time in Kano in studios and offices, hanging out, listening to gossip and political debates and jokes. I miss that. And those days in Kaduna, Zaria, Jos, on sets, smooshed five to a backseat in cars on the way to the next location, five ladies to a bed in hotels while one actress watches the Zombie Apocolypse on DSTV until 2am and another has long midnight calls, the times you sit around watching people saying their lines over and over again, the banter and the long conversations that happen behind the scenes, while waiting for the last scene to wrap.

Where I am now, people continuously shout “oyinbo” at me. It is nothing new. I grew up in Nigeria and I know that it is rarely malicious, often affectionate. But is alienating nevertheless. It reminds me that I am foreign, that I do not belong. In Kano, there was a familiarity, in my own small community that spilled over to the larger public once people began to recognize my face. I was not just a “baturiya.” I was “their” baturiya–a Baturiya Bahaushiya–a baturiya at home. Most of all I miss that. The ability to, if not to quite fit in, to belong, to be in a place where I was not just an alien but a “member” of a community who can straddle two worlds.

The last time I was in Kano was briefly in 2013. It was not the same as I remembered it. Homes left behind never are. Lives move on. Friends marry, move studios, leave film for other work. But from 2008 to 2011, this place was my community. These people, my home.

In the past couple of days, I have gotten phone calls from my Golden Goose crew, the studio I spent much of my time in the first few years in Kano. I thank these my friends for remembering me. Much love to them all.

Golden Goose Studio, 2008 (c) Nazir Ahmad Hausawa aka Ziriums

Golden Goose Studio, Kano, 2008 (c) Nazir Ahmad Hausawa aka Ziriums

Kannywood actress Fati Tage and me at the wedding of Binta Mohammed and Tahir I. Tahir in March 2009, Kano.

Dan Auta and me joking around on set of Likita, Zaria, May 2010.

On set Likita, Zaria, 2010

On set Likita, Baba Ari and Gatari, Zaria, May 2010

On set of Jidda, Kaduna, January 2010.

On set of Jidda, Kaduna, January 2010.

Golden Goose buddies at the wedding of editor, Sulaiman Abubakar MPEG, Mrch 2010.

Golden Goose buddies at the wedding of editor, Sulaiman Abubakar MPEG, March 2010.

With Kannywood peeps, BOB-TV, Abuja, 2009.

With Kannywood peeps, BOB-TV, Abuja, 2009.

Hanging out in the Sheraton parking lot, at BOB-TV, Abuja, March 2010.

Kannywood peeps hanging out in the Sheraton parking lot, at BOB-TV, Abuja, March 2010.

On set of Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya, 2009.

On set of Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya, Kano/Jigawa, 2009.

IMG_6619

On set, Mutallab, directed by Aminu Saira, written and produced by Nasir Gwangwazo, Kaduna, August 2010.

Ali Nuhu and me on set Mutallab, August 2010.

The last day of the Mutallab shoot, Kaduna, August 2010.

The last day of the Mutallab shoot, Kaduna, August 2010.

Mirror selfie on set Janni-Janni, Kaduna, August 2010.

Mirror selfie on set Janni-Janni, Kaduna, August 2010.

On set of an AGM Bashir film, Kano, 2010.

On set of an AGM Bashir film, Kano, 2010.

On set of the Hajiya Aisha Halilu film Armala, April 2011

On set of Abbas Sadiq film, Jos, 2012.

On set of Abbas Sadiq film, Jos, 2012.

Sai na dawo.

Interview with Award-winning filmmaker Kenneth Gyang at the African Studies Association Conference, 2014

poster courtesy of Shadow and Act

At the African Studies Association conference in Indianapolis last November (2014), Nollywood scholar Connor Ryan asked me if I’d like to collaborate with him on an interview with filmmaker Kenneth Gyang, one of the founders of Cinema Kpatakpata. Kenneth’s film Confusion Na Wa won the awards for Best film and Best Nigerian film at the 9th Africa Movie Academy Awards in 2013. (It was nominated for four)

Kenneth is a friend, whom I have known since the set of his Blood and Henna in 2011, which was also nominated for six AMAA Awards (and eventually won Best Costume Design).

IMG_1370

Kenneth Gyang on the set of his film Blood and Henna in Kaduna, November 5, 2011. (c) Carmen McCain

 

At the time we interviewed him (directly before the screening), I had not yet seen Confusion Na Wa! and I really wish I had, as I would have had even more questions. It is a brilliant film that, within a fractured tragi-comic plot, captures well the kinds of daily life and conversations Nigerians have. I need to see it one more time before I write a review.

In the meantime, if you are in Nigeria, Confusion Na Wa is currently back in cinemas via Filmhouse Cinemas, which has locations in Kano, Lagos, Ibadan Calabar, Port Harcourt, and Asaba. If you are in Kano, it is playing now at 10:10am Friday through Thursday. Go see it. If you are in the U.S., Kenneth Gyang has been on a tour, and I believe Confusion Na Wa will be screening at the University of Georgia on February 28, this Saturday, although I wasn’t able to find it on the UGA calender.

I didn’t project my questions very well in the video interview (only Kenneth was mic-ed), so some of my contributions got cut in the editing, but I loved Connor’s questions (he wrote one of the first and probably one of the best reviews of the film when it first came out in 2013) and Kenneth’s answers. Here is a link to some of Kenneth’s transcribed answers, and below is the video of the interview. Enjoy.

My memories of Dan Ibro in Weekly Trust today

Ibro Dan Siyasa

I remember in the middle of the 2008 Jos crisis laughing alongside an audience of Christian refugees at Ibro Dan Siyasa

Last week I wrote up some of my memories of one of Kannywood’s biggest stars Rabilu Musa, more often known by his comedic alter-ego Dan Ibro. Musa passed away last week on 10 December 2014, due to complications related to kidney disease.  He had apparently struggled with the illness for some time. When he was jailed by the mobile court then attached to the Kano State Censorship Board (a kangaroo court he later mocked in Kotun Ibro), he spent most of his jail term in the hospital. (When Kwankwaso became governor in 2011, Rabilu Musa was also given a seat on the Kano State Censorship Board.)

"An Kwantar da Ibro Asabiti" article published in Leadership Hausa, 17-23 October 2008

“An Kwantar da Ibro Asabiti” article published in Leadership Hausa, 17-23 October 2008

This week, my editor (who is still being kind to me despite my being MIA from my column) at Weekly Trust asked me if I would grant an interview about my memories of Dan Ibro, along the lines of the blog post. Once some time has passed, I’ll archive the whole interview on my blog, but for now you can read the interview on the Trust site here: “My Memories of Dan Ibro”

Ibro Dan Siyasa

Ibro Dan Siyasa

I will try to figure out how to upload the interview I did with him in April 2009, once I have access to good internet.

In the meantime, here are a few other Trust articles and tributes to the late comedian:

“Father of Late Comedy Star Dan Ibro Speaks… ‘Life will never be the same without Dan Ibro” by Ibrahim Musa Giginyu

“Tribute to an Unrivalled Arewa Comedy Icon” by Umar Rayyan

“Dan Ibro: Exit of Kannywood’s Comedy icon” by Ibrahim Musa Giginyu

“Popular Hausa Comedian Ibro Dies” by Ibrahim Musa Giginyu

Other articles include

Noorer’s “Social Media Reactions to Rabilu Musa Ibro’s Death” on Kannywoodscene

Umar IBN’s obituary  “Cikakken Tahirin Marigayi Rabilu Musa Dan Ibro” on Kannywood Exclusive.

Mohammad Lere’s article “Comedian ‘Dan Ibro’ Buried in Kano” in Premium Times

Awwal Ahmad Janyau’s “Rabilu Musa Dan Ibro Ya Rasu” in RFI

“Dan wasan Hausa, Rabilu Dan Ibro Ya Rasu” BBC

Finally, in an interview with FIM Magazine in March 2008, Rabilu Musa told them, “In ka ji an ce an daina yi da Ibro, to sai dai in Ibro ya mutu”/”If you hear that Ibro is no longer performing, it’s because Ibro is dead.”

Rest in peace, Rabilu Musa. May Ibro live on. Allah ya jikansa. Allah ya sa shi huta. Allah ya ba mu hakuri.

In ka ji an daina yi da Ibro, to sai dai in Ibro ya mutu" - Rabilu Musa

“If you hear that Ibro is no longer performing, it’s because Ibro is dead.” -Rabilu Musa, March 2008, Rest in peace, Ibro.

Remembering ‘Dan Ibro (tare da baturiyarsa) (Allah ya jikan ‘Dan Ibro)

This morning, I yielded to the temptation to go onto Facebook before starting my work.  I found waiting for me a private message from a friend telling me that Rabilu Musa aka ‘Dan Ibro, the most famous comedian and perhaps the most famous actor in the Hausa film industry, had just passed away.(BBC, Premium Times, RFI). He was only in his forties. Inna Lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un.

Dan Ibro praying (courtesy of Rabilu Musa DAN Ibro Facebook page)

It is a gutting loss to the industry and to millions of people all over northern Nigeria, who laughed at Ibro’s antics even as the bombs were exploding around them.

An explanation:

I’ve been gone from this blog since June, since even before then, really, as I tried to reduce distractions to a bare minimum while I pushed out the PhD. I kept up with the column at Weekly Trust until August. A week before my revisions were due, I desperately asked my editor for a month break, which he graciously granted me. I finished the PhD and then just kind of collapsed. I had been taking two days and an all nighter every week trying to write my weekly column. I had written throughout the last four years of my PhD programme, even through the defense. But with the kidnap of the Chibok girls and ever more atrocities coming out of the northeast, sometimes venturing further West, I felt like I couldn’t write about anything else. How can you write about novels and movies and walks in pretty American parks when ethnic cleansing is going on—when perhaps some of your readers have been killed in the violence? My one-month break turned into many months. I got busy applying for academic jobs and going to conferences and travelling back and forth to Nigeria. I pushed away thoughts of the column. I couldn’t handle the thought of having one more deadline every week or of having to write anything else while people were being murdered and bombs were going off.

Then ‘Dan Ibro died.

And I realized he made people laugh in the midst of all of these horrors (In October there was even a Ibro Likitan Ebola poster floating around on Twitter), and that perhaps it is this laughter, these stories, these songs, these dreams of ordinary people in ordinary and extraordinary times, that are what help us

Ibro Ebola Doctor (courtesy of Kannywood Exclusive TL: https://twitter.com/kannywoodex/status/504397310957457408 )

survive. We shouldn’t allow Boko Haram or any other threat to take laughter and story and song away from us. During the Jos crisis of 2008, dozens of people sought refuge in our house. One night, I brought out my vcd of Ibro Dan Siyasa [Ibro Politician], and everyone, all crammed into our parlour, sat there laughing. Christians in Jos laughing at the Muslim Ibro’s comedy, in the midst of a religious/ethnic/political crisis. I thought, then, that there is a bridge here, this Kannywood, this comedy, there’s something here that goes beyond the bitter statements I’d heard from Christian refugees throughout the crisis. The same people who had cursed “the Hausa” and cursed “the Muslims” were laughing at ‘Dan Ibro. His comedy was bigger than fear and hatred and politics.

So here are my own memories of Ibro.

Like any fan, I have watched dozens of his films—playing in the background on Africa Magic Hausa as I would write in my room or in the little kiosk where I bought yoghurt and bread when I lived in Kano. I’d watch short comedy sketches excerpted from his longer films that musicians and filmmakers would show me on their phones in studios. Sometimes I’d peek over the shoulders of strangers in taxis giggling at an Ibro sketch on their phone.

When a director and producer I did not know approached me on Zoo Road with the idea for Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya, I laughed and agreed without too much further thought. I liked the idea. I said I would do it, if I could get an interview with Ibro. The producer agreed.

One of the vcd covers for Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya (more coming once I can find my hard copies in the various boxes where they are packed)

One of the vcd covers for Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya (more coming once I can find my hard copies in the various boxes where they are packed)

Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya was made in early 2009, in the midst of the Kano State Censorship crisis. Because of the crisis, we had to leave Kano to shoot the film. We met up with Rabilu Musa on the outskirts of Kano, and I rode in the back seat of his car as he drove towards Jigawa State. He was dressed in a normal white kaftan, and without the bright signature costume, the tall red cap or the comedian’s grin, he looked like an ordinary person—not one of Nigeria’s biggest stars. He was very quiet and did not say much as we drove. Even with all of my exposure to Kannywood, I remain bashful in the presence of fame. I hoped for an interview but didn’t quite know how to ask him. We stopped once on the side of the road, perhaps to buy snacks, and people passed without recognizing him until some of the children did a double take and then started chanting “Ibro, Ibro.”

We arrived at a village a little bit outside of Dutse in Jigawa, and we ate lunch before starting to shoot. I was still too shy to talk to him, as you can see from the below photo of me grinning like an idiot while Ibro eats in the background. But the director fulfilled his part of the bargain, and we had a brief 6-7 minute interview. I tried to ask him about his ordeal the year before, at the hands of the Kano State Censorship Board. He didn’t want to talk about it. I got what I could. (I’ve transcribed the Hausa, though I haven’t yet translated it, and will post it later on this blog).

Eating on set of Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya. (Ibro in white). (Me, grinning like idiot)

Eating on set of Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya. (Ibro in white). (Me, grinning like idiot)

Then it was time to act. I was led to a small, borrowed room in someone’s compound and told to change into my “Western dress”. About a minute later, before I had a chance to smooth down my hair still flattened from my headtie, I was rushed out to do the first scene where I drag (my own) suitcase into the village with Ibro, asking him why we aren’t going to Abuja as he promised me. There was no script. At least none that I was given. The director gave us a minute of instruction (I was to speak in English at first and later in broken Hausa), and we were off. Ibro is a brilliant comedian and knew exactly what to do. I just tried to keep up.

That day, Ibro had somewhere else to be. I completed my scenes with him, a few more were cut, perhaps, and he rushed off to his next film. We continued with Baba Ari, ‘Dan Auta, and the others at a more leisurely pace.

On set of Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya.  Left to right. Director Muhammad Y. Muhammad, Baba Ari, me, Dan Auta, Producer Lawal D. Funtua.

On set of Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya.
Left to right. Director Muhammad Y. Muhammad, Baba Ari, me, Dan Auta, Producer Lawal D. Funtua.

After production, I was embarrassed. I felt I had acted terribly. I felt like if produced differently it could have, perhaps, been funnier. I never mentioned the film on this blog and rarely elsewhere, because I didn’t want people to see me in it.

But on the streets, people would call out “matan Ibro,” “matan Ibro.” People would jokingly ask me how my husband Ibro was. And so it was that “matan Ibro” became part of my public persona, even though I was still too shy to talk to him.

The original vcd cover for Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya.

The original vcd cover for Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya.

Eventually, I was able to overcome my embarrassment enough to watch parts 1 through 3 of the Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya and to look at it with enough distance to include an analysis of it in my PhD dissertation. I realized that it didn’t matter how I acted. It wasn’t about me. The baturiya was just a symbol to be played with and mocked—some of the funniest scenes were discussions of the baturiya, where I did not appear but which were made possible by my token appearance elsewhere: the baturiyar kwantainer, Ibro could not pass off to his friend once I became a nuisance because he claimed he had gotten me from a container, which could have come from Togo or Benin, rather than America; the baturiya whom Ibro really “made suffer” as people on the street would laugh to me.

Ibro Ya Auri Baturiya was where I most connected with Rabilu Musa, but he had many more brilliant films. They weren’t usually polished, but they were usually hilarious and filled with sometimes biting political humour. The character of Ibro took on a life of his own. His voice often imitated by singers, including Sadi Sidi Sharifai, so that the character Ibro became disembodied from the actor himself. I mention him over 40 different times in my PhD thesis, and do an extended analysis of his film Kotun Ibro, a sly dig at the mobile court which persecuted so many filmmakers during the censorship crisis.

Ibro's film Kotun Ibro poked fun at the mobile court that had arrested him.

Ibro’s film Kotun Ibro poked fun at the mobile court that had arrested him.

Dan Ibro was an institution. He has become an era.

He will not act in any new films, but he will stay with us in a thousand different comedies. I heard his voice singing on the radio today, as a broadcaster mourned him. He brawls and weeps and shouts and complains and dances on a million different screens. We will keep laughing, even when, perhaps, we should be crying.

Allah ya jikansa, Allah ya sa shi huta. Yaba mu hakurin wannan babban rashi.

Postscript

As I wrote this today, I saw the news of another bomb in Kano at the Kwari cloth market. Allah ya kiyaye mu. What a horrible day Kano has had.

Sometimes it’s overwhelming to contemplate how many people from the Hausa film industry have died in the past few years. Here are my tributes to a few of them.

Actress Hauwa Ali Dodo (Biba Problem), who died 1 January 2009,

Director Zilkiflu Muhammed (Zik), who died 18 February 2010,

Actress Safiya Ahmed, who died on 26 February 2010,

Actress Amina Garba, who died on 21 November 2010,

Comedian and director Lawal Kaura, who died on 13 December 2011,

Actress Maryam Umar Aliyu, who died on 12 April 2011,

Director Muhammadu Balarabe Sango, who died on 1 December 2012

Introducing Dr. Carmen McCain

Dr. Carmen McCain (c) my brilliant brother Dan McCain

I have not posted on this blog since January. I think that is the longest I have ever neglected it. But it was for a good cause. It enabled me to hole up in Madison, Wisconsin, to focus and finish writing my PhD dissertation on Hausa literature and film, which I defended about a month ago. I am hoping to finish my revisions in a week or so, submit to the university, and move on to the next thing. I am looking forward to what life brings. Hopefully that will mean resuming more regular blogging. Thank you to all of you, who have supported me and encouraged me during this long, grueling, depressing, yet also sometimes exhilarating process. I wrote more detailed thanks in my column last month and still more in the acknowledgements page of my dissertation itself. I am placing a hold on proquest for two years, so as to better my chances of getting a book contract, but I would be happy to email it to anyone interested, once I have the final draft submitted to the university.

I will share more thoughts and photos as I have time. This may also be the last blog post I compose on my nearly 6 year old boxy red Dell, named Rudi. He has lived a good life but is now slowly dying. His sleek replacement is sitting in the next room  waiting for a data transfer… and a name.

My love to everyone.

-Dr. McCain  (probably the only time I will ever sign off that way on this blog, but it’s fun to celebrate)

Kannywood Award 2013

[UPDATE 24 November 2013: SCROLL DOWN FOR THE WINNERS OF THE 2013 KANNYWOOD AWARD]
[Update 4 December 2013, here are a few more links to articles about the Kannywood Award night.
My article “Kannywood Awards Seek Uplift and Unity,” in which I muse over Kannywood history and interview two of the organizers, Hamisu Lamido Iyantama and Ismail Afakallah.
Ibrahim Giginyu’s “Day Kannywood Stars United For Awards.
And a really scoopy, detailed description of the event by Ibrahim Umar Bello on Kannywood scene, “MTN Kannywood Awards: A Night to Remember.
Continue to scroll down to see the winners and read my original blog post.]
I recently received an invitation to the Kannywood Award 2013, which begins at 8pm tomorrow, 23 November 2013 in Kano. Unfortunately, I probably won’t be able to make it, but I thought it was worth blogging about the event and the nominations ahead of time. One of the brains behind the award is filmmaker Hamisu Lamido Iyantama (who suffered a great deal at the hands of the Kano State Censorship Board) from 2008-2010, and whom I have blogged about a lot in the past. Although Iyantama gave out some “Iyan-Tama Multimedia Awards” in 2010, this year in Kano is the first edition of the “Kannywood Award.”
I will try to update this post with the winners after this weekend. [UPDATE 24 November 2013, for a list of the winners, see Kannywood Scene’s list. If you scroll down, I will note the winner next to each nomination] In the meantime, scroll below for the list of nominations.
The Invitation in part reads:
INVITATION – KANNYWOOD AWARD 2013
KANNYWOOD AWARD 2013 is the first edition for “Arewa” music and movie industry (Kannywood) and is the largest gathering of Kannywood artistes, Technical crew, relevant individuals and groups. This is a must attend event for anyone with responsibility in the entertainment industry. Attending this event is an excellent opportunity to promote Face of Kannywood.
The “Paradigm Uplift and Unity” refers to a movement which seeks not only to implement and achieve this Kannywood Award show, but to advance Arewa cultural heritage by introducing innovative methodology, new thinking and changing the perception of existing outlook of Kannywood image.
The event will feature gathering of Kannywood artistes, technical crew, who is who, yellow carpet, banquet, stage show and jamboree of special guests.
The event is scheduled take place on 23rd NOV. 2013 […]
In view of this and regarding your passion and contribution to the growth of the industry, we write to invite you to grace with your presence the occasion as Special Guest .
The event is supported by MTN Nigeria.
Thank you very for your usual understanding and cooperation .
Kind regards
Hamisu Lamido Iyantama
Chairman Organizing/Security Committee.

The Nominations, which I got from the organizers of the awards, are as follows. [UPDATE: I have filled in the winners with help from Kannywood Scene: Kannywood Scene also lists a few awards that were not on the original list: Zahraddeen Sani won the Best Supporting Actor for his performance in Fulani;  Sani Danja recieved an Icon of Entertainment Award; Falalu Dorayi won the Golden Jury Award; and Alhaji Sani Zamfara and Rabi’u Haruna Al-Rahuz won an award for Best Marketers. Unfortunately, the Kannywood Scene list left off a few of the awards that were on the original nomination list. I have also heard from other sources that (my former student!) Nomiis Gee won the award for Best Hausa Hiphop Rapper,  Sadiq Salihu Abubakar won Kannywood’s Best R&B Artiste, Jos-based director and producer Sani Mu’azu won a lifetime achievement award, alongside Ibrahim Mandawari, Audu Kano Karkuzu, Samanja, and Hamisu Lamido Iyantama. Thanks to Masaud KanoRiders for a lot of this information.

1. BEST ACTOR LEAD

Karen Bana Adamu A. Zango

‘Yan Uwan Juna Sadik Sani Sadik

Daga Allah ne Sani Musa Danja

Matan Gidan Ali Nuhu [Winner]

2. BEST ACTRESS

Ahlal Kitab Nafisa Abdullahi [Winner]

Jarumin Maza Fati Ladan

Sultan Maryam Gidado

Matan Gida Halima Atete

3. BEST ACTOR COMIC Aliya

Kicimilli Ado Isa

Suwaga Aminu Shariff

Aliya Rabi’u Ibrahim Daushe [WINNER]

Oga Abuja Rabilu Musa

4. BEST SOUND

Aliya Munnir Zango, Ibrahim Sodangi

Jarumin Maza Kabiru A Zango

Yankin Imani Rabi’u Manra

Ta’addanci Ibrahim Sodangi

5. COSTUME

Yankin Imani Auwalu DG/Ibrahim IBB

Wani Gari Aminu One Eye [WINNER]

Fulani Sadiqu Artist

Jarumin Maza Abdul’aziz Dan Small

6. BEST PICTURE

Hubbi Ali Nuhu

Wani Gari Yassin Auwal [WINNER]

Jarumin Maza Kamal S. Alkali

Ta’addanci Sadik N. Mafia

7. CINEMATOGRAPHY

Ta’addanci Danlami Ali/ Isma’il M Isma’il

Karen Bana Auwalu Ali Jos/ Isma’il M Isma’il

Kece Buri na Dan Juma Dunje

Izinah Sadik N. Mafia

Dan Marayan Zaki

8. BEST ACTOR VILLAIN ROLE

Dan Marayan Zaki Sadiq Ahmad

Jarumin Maza Tanimu Akawu [WINNER]

Sultan Maryam Gidado

Uwar Miji Hajara Usman

Wata Hudu Shu’aibu Lawal Kumurci

‘Yan Uwan Juna Sadiq Sani Sadiq

9. EDITOR

Karen Bana Sanusi Dan Yaro

Ta’addanci Saddam A Koli/Adam A Zango [WINNER]

‘Yan Uwan Juna Suleiman Abubakar/ Nura Abubakar/ Ubaidu Yusif

Ahlal Kitab Suleiman Abubakar/ Kabiru Ali

10. DIRECTOR

Wata Hudu Aminu Saira [WINNER]

‘Yan uwan Juna Mansoor Sadiq/ Ali Nuhu

Karen Bana Falalu A Dorayi

Ta’adanci Sadiq M Mafia

11. SCREENPLAY

Karen Bana Nazir Adam Salihi

‘Yan uwan Juna Auwalu Y Abdullahi/Mujaheed M Gombe/ Badaru Bala

Jarumin Maza Kamal S Alkali

Daga Allah ne Yakubu M. Kumo [WINNER]

12. SET DESIGNAhlul Kitab

Ahlal Kitab Tahir I Tahir

Dan Marayan Zaki Faruk Sayyadi Garba [WINNER]

Wani Gari Habibu Haruna

Yankin Imani Bala Usher

13. SOUND TRACK

Wani Gari Nazir M Ahmed [WINNER]

Suwaga Abdulbasi Abdulmumin

Karen Bana Ibrahim Sodangi

Namiji Duniya Auwal Flash

14. SUPPORTING ACTRESS

Ahlal Kitab Nafisa Abdullahi

Lamiraj Rahama Hassan

Suwaga Ladidi Abdullahi (Tubless)

Kicimilli Ladi Muhammed (Mutu Ka Raba) [Winner]

(Update 24 November 2013. On the list of nominations the organizers of the award provided me before the event, there was no “Best Supporting Actor category,” but that must have been an oversite. According to Kannywood Scene, Zahraddeen Sani won the Best Supporting Actor award for his performance in Fulani.)

15. NEW COMING ACTRESS

Uwar Miji Zainab Yunusa OdarikoSultan-dir Ali Gumzak

Matan Gida Aisha Aliyu (Tsamiya) [WINNER]

Sultan Maryam Gidado

Hubbi Fadila Muhammed

Basaja Shamsiyya Isah

Matan Gida Fati Washa

16. VISUAL EFFECT

Ta’addanci

Daga Allah ne  Aminu Musa Dan Jalo [WINNER]

17. BEST KID ACTOR

Sultan Sayyada M Adam [WINNER]

Akan Ido na Ahmad Ali Nuhu

18. BEST ORIGINAL STORY

Uwar Miji Zainab Inusa Odariko

Daga Allah ne Iliyasu Abdulmumini Tantiri [WINNER]

Wani Gari Yassen Auwal

Basaja Adam A Zango

19. NEW COMING ACTORGidan Dadi Duniya 2

Gidan Dadi Duniya Hamza Talle Maifata

Salma Ramadan Both

Gidan Dadi Duniya Adamu Ishere [WINNER]

MUSIC

BEST MUSIC

1. Basaja Adam A. Zango [WINNER]

2. Data Hudu Rabi’u Baffa

3. Jarumin Maza Rabi’u Dalle

4. Izinah Sadi Sidi

BEST LYRICS

1. Wani Gari Naziru Ahmad

2. Daga Allah ne Sadi Sidi Sharifai [WINNER]

3. Hubbi Nura M. Inuwa

4. Wata Hudu Nazifi Asnanic

BEST BACKGROUND SINGER MALE

1. Gani Gaka Yakubu Muhammad [WINNER]

2. Wata Hudu Nazifi Asnanic

3. Daga Allah ne Sadi Sidi

4. Basaja Hussaini A. Hussaini

BEST BACKGROUND SINGER FEMALEbasaja

1. Basaja Jamila Kofar Waika

2. Wata Hudu Zuwaira Isma’il [WINNER]

3. ‘Yan uwan Juna Maryam Muhammad

4. Gani Gaka Jamila A. Sadin

BEST FILM

TA’ADDANCI

YAN’UWAN JUNA

BASAJA

WANI GARI [WINNER]

Translating (and Transcribing) the Hausa film song Zazzabi [Fever]

Zazzabi

I’m going to do something today that I haven’t done for a long time on this blog, but which is something I originally started this blog to do, and that is to put up some work in progress–a song that I am working on right now in my dissertation–and ask for help from Hausa speakers in correctly translating and transcribing it.

Zazzabi (Fever) directed by Sha’aibu Idris Belaz and produced by Auwalu Madaki (story by Salisu Buldoza) for Sa’a Entertainment in 2005 is one of my favourite Hausa films. And the first song in the movie, sung by Sadi Sidi Sharifai, Ikram Garba Ado, and Sa’a A. Yusuf, has obsessed me since 2006. Yes, that long. (I’ve mentioned and posted it in previous blog posts in November 2009 and just the other day in October 2013). It must have been pretty popular with its audiences too, because the songwriter Sadiq Usman Sale gained his industry nickname from the film: Sadiq Zazzabi.

It’s a story full of twists and turns, so I can’t talk too much about the plot here, in case there is someone who ever wants to see the film (if you can find it anywhere). But, as it becomes clear by the 6th verse of the song, it is a film about love and HIV, but it is no NGO film (thank God). HIV is one of the things that complicates the love between the characters in the love triangle between the characters played by Sani Danja, Mansura Isah, (who ended up marrying in real life) and Ibrahim Maishunku. (Because the characters played by Sani Danja and Mansura Isah are not named in the film, I call them Sani and Mansura here. The character played by Ibrahim Maishunku is named Salim in the film.)

What I LOVE about this song is the ambiguity of the word zazzabi (fever). It can be used in the metaphoric sense as a fever of love, and that is the sense in which the audience would most likely initially interpret word. In Ado Ahmed Gidan Dabino’s bestselling novel In da So da Kauna, for example, the young lover Muhammad writes that he is fleeing Kano to Kaduna

Part 1 of Ado Ahmed Gidan Dabino's bestselling novel In da So da Kauna

Part 1 of Ado Ahmed Gidan Dabino’s bestselling novel In da So da Kauna

because he has been separated from his sweetheart Sumayya, “Ciwon sonta ne ya sa ba zan zauna ba/The sickness of loving her is the reason I won’t stay” (part 1, 85). Sumayya sings on a cassette to Muhammad, that  “In na tuna ka sai na farka daga barci na,/ Ciwon so ya sanya wannan ba komai ba/If I remember you I wake from my sleep/ The sickness of love makes it nothing” (part 1, 71). When she dreams that Muhammad has been killed in an accident she sings, “Ciwon so shi zan kashe ni/ The sickness of love will kill me“[or The sickness of love will make me kill myself] (part 1, 87).

However, the word “zazzabi” can also be used literally here, as a literal fever. Indeed it is when Sani complains about a fever that Mansura suggests he go for a medical check-up–a checkup during which he tests positive for HIV. The song thus layers a literal meaning of the “disease of love” on top of a metaphoric usage, creating a striking and disturbing image of the dangers love brings not only the heart but the body. In Verse 6, Sani comes out and says “Kanjamau cutar a jikina. Lafiya bata dawowa/ AIDS is the disease in my body. Health will not return.”

My attempts to transcribe the song (from the video below) and translate it– the transcription file on my computer dates back to 2009–however, has made me painfully aware of how much more Hausa I still need to learn. Of course, the poetic language of the song makes it a bit more difficult to transcribe than ordinary language. I’ve been sitting here with the R.C. Abraham dictionary, the Bargery dictionary, and the Hausa-Hausa dictionary published a few years ago by Bayero University, sometimes wondering if I have even divided the words correctly when I transcribed–or if the words I have written actually exist. So, I would love help from Hausa speakers and readers in checking 1) the transcription of the words of the song, 2) my translation. As I get corrections, I will try to make corrections on this post. At this point, I am not trying to be very literary in my translation–although I did translate “kauna” as “passion,” even though I know that “kauna” has a much milder connotation, because I felt it fit with the overall meaning of the song. For the most part, I just want it to be accurate. After I feel I have an accurate translation, I may try to make it sound more like poetry in English. But mainly, right now, I want a working translation that I can feel confident working with as I write about the song. At the moment, I probably don’t have the room to include an in depth analysis of the entire song in my dissertation–I’m using the refrain and chorus, which I understand fine. But I’m thinking I’d like to write a separate article on the entire song and the film at some point, and any suggestions people can give me here will help me work towards that goal.

UPDATE: 10 November 2013. Anas Musa just sent me some amazing corrections to my transcription via email, and suddenly it all begins to fall into place. I will make his corrections on the transcription here and keep working on the translation. I am so grateful. He heard words and expressions that I just couldn’t quite get like kwarjini and kamani and furucina and kudurina and burin ruhina and dimaucewa and gane batuna and jin lafazina and akwai uzurina and gurbi and kulli yaumin and hangena and the whole proverbial expression “Mai guri ya zo gurbinsa shinfidarka ka zo ka nade ta” and don in zam in ganta and kuwa ya cancanta and hawaye (instead of ta waye) and Gashi na yi biyu ko daya (rather than Ga shi na bude bako) and Wayyo kaina (rather than Wayyo Allah). As you can see he’s made a huge difference! I’m still working on the translation. It’s rough but a lot cleaner now that I can actually hear what words they are saying.

I will post the video and my transcription below that. The cinematography is rather grey and uninspiring, but the song is brilliant. Please note that the video is included in this blog post as part of fair use policies for review purposes:

Zazzabi

Fever

 by Sadiq Usman Sale (ie. Sadiq Zazzabi)

Refrain:

Sani:  Zazzabi ya sauka jikina, Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi, Ciwon so, ciwon kauna,

 A Fever has come to my body, Fever so hot. Fever of love, fever of passion,

Salim:  Zazzabi shi ne a jikina

A Fever is what is in my body

Female back up Chorus:  Zazzabi ya kama masoya, zazzabi ciwo mai zafi. Ciwon so. Ciwon kauna. Zazzabi ciwo mai kuna.

A fever has caught the lovers, A fever so hot,Fever of love, fever of passion, A fever that burns

Mansura:  Zazzabi ya sauka  jikina, Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi, Ciwon so, ciwon kauna, Zazzabi shi ne a jikina

Fever has come to my body, Fever so hot. Fever of love, fever of passion, A Fever is what is in my body

Verse 1

Sani: A gaskiya ciwon kaunarki, a tuntuni shi yake kamani.

Truly, lovesickness for you captured me long ago.

Female backup Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot

Sani: In na zo, wurin ji a gareki. Kwarjini shi yake kamani.

If I come to hear it from you. I am overcome with shyness.

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot

Sani: Ina tsoron furucinki, shi ya sa jinkiri a gareni

I fear what you will say, that’s what made me delay

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot

Sani: Kin ji, dai, dukkan kudurina, ya a bar burin ruhina

Hear my great passion for you, oh my deepest soul’s desire.

Chorus: Zazzabi ya kama masoya, zazzabi ciwo mai zafi. Ciwon so. Ciwon kauna. Zazzabi ciwo mai kuna.

A fever has captured the lovers, A fever so hot. Fever of love. Fever of passion. Fever of scorching heat.

Verse 2:

Sani: Ki amince da ni, don Allah, kar ki sa ni na dimaucewa.

Trust me, for God’s sake, don’t let me lose my mind.

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot.

Sani: So da kauna abin girmamawa, kin ga shine tushen kowa….

Love and passion is an inestimable thing, you know it is the root of us all… 

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot.

Sani: Na nutso kogin kaunarki ko dagowa bana yowa

I am drowning in a river of your love, I can’t come up out of it.

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot.

Sani: Nai jiran amsa a gareki don kuwa duk kin gane batuna.

I wait for your answer, so that you understand all that I’ve said.

Chorus: Zazzabi ya kama masoya, zazzabi ciwo mai zafi. Ciwon so. Ciwon kauna. Zazzabi ciwo mai kuna.

A fever has caught the lovers, a fever so hot. Sickness of love, sickness of passion, Fever a sickness that burns.

Verse 3:

Mansura: Na ji dukka batunka bayani, to, tsaya don jin lafazina. 

I’ve heard all, all of what you’ve said. To, stop now and listen to me. 

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot.

Mansura: Tun ada, tun tun na fahimta kai kana kauna a garena.

For long, I’ve understood that you love me

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot.

Mansura:  Gaskiya ni da kai soyayya, ba na yi don akwai uzurina.

In truth, I have my reasons not to agree to love between me and you.

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi.

Fever so hot.

Mansura: Babu gurbi cikin ruhina sam… Salim shi ne a gabana

There’s no place in my heart. Salim, hes the one in my future now.

Chorus: Zazzabi ya kama masoya, zazzabi ciwo mai zafi. Ciwon so. Ciwon kauna. Zazzabi ciwo mai kuna.

It’s a fever that captures lovers, Fever so hot. Sickness of passion. Sickness of love. Fever a sickness that burns.

 

Verse 4

Mansura: Alkawari, ni da shi mun dauka duk wuya bama canzawa.

It’s a promise he and I have made each other. No matter the difficulty we won’t change.

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi.

Fever so hot.

Mansura: Son Salim, shi ne a gabana, kulla yaumin na ke ta tunawa

My love for Salim is before me,  I’m always thinking [of him].

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot.

Mansura: So da kaunarsa ke ta bugawa zuciyata suke rayawa.

Love and passion are throbbing my heart to life again.

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot.

Mansura: Son Salim shi ne hangena har ke loda harkar ganina.

Love for Salim is what I see from a far, it fills my vision.

Instrumental Interlude

 Refrain

Salim: Zazzabi ya sauka jikina, Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi. Ciwon so, ciwon kauna, zazzabi shi ne a jikana.

A fever has entered my body, A fever so hot. A sickness of love, a sickness of passion. A fever, that’s what’s in my body.

Mansura:  Zazzabi ya sauka jikina, Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi. Ciwon so, ciwon kauna, zazzabi shi ne a jikana

A fever has entered my body, A fever so hot. A sickness of love, a sickness of passion. A fever, that’s what’s in my body.

Chorus:  Zazzabi ya kama masoya, zazzabi ciwo mai zafi. Ciwon so. Ciwon kauna. Zazzabi ciwo mai kuna.

A fever has captured the lovers, a fever so hot. A sickness of love, a sickness of passion. A fever of scorching heat.

Verse 5:

Salim: Mai guri ya zo gurbinsa shinfidarka kazo ka nade ta

The longing lover has met his fate. Here’s your mat, come roll it up.

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi.

Fever so hot.

Salim: Ga ni gefen abar kaunata, in tsaya don in zam in ganta.

See me here by the side with my heavy love, I’ve paused here to stay and see her.

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi.

Fever so hot.

Salim: Zo mu je lambunmu na kauna, mu shige, don kuwa ya cancanta

Come let’s go to our garden of love, let’s enter it, because it is befitting.

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi.

Fever so hot.

Salim: Kai ku sai ka tsaya, bisa nan gun ke da shi, ku yi bankwana

You just have to stop all the familiarity you have with him,  you must say goodbye

Chorus:  Zazzabi ya kama masoya, zazzabi ciwo mai zafi. Ciwon so. Ciwon kauna. Zazzabi ciwo mai kuna.

Fever has captured the lovers. Fever so hot. Fever of love, Fever of passion. Fever of scorching heat.

Verse 6

Sani: Yau ina kuka da hawaye sai takaice nake ta tunawa.

Today I am weeping hot tears, I keep thinking of my loss…

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot.

Sani: Ga shi na yi biyu ko daya babu rayuwata nake tausayawa

See, I have nothing, I pity my life.

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot.

Sani: Kanjamau cuta a jikina. Lafiya bata dawowa

AIDS is the disease in my body. Health will not return

Chorus: Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi

Fever so hot.

Sani:  Rayuwata tana watakila mutuwa ko yau a wurina

I face the end of my life, maybe even today.

Chorus: Zazzabi ya kama

Fever has captured

Sani: Wayyo kaina,

Chorus: masoya, zazzabi ciwo mai zafi.

Lovers. Fever so hot

Sani: Wayyo Allahna

Chorus:  Ciwon so. Ciwon kauna. Zazzabi ciwo mai kona.

Fever of love. Fever of passion. Fever that burns.

Refrain

Mansura: Zazzabi ya sauka jikina, Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi. Ciwon so, ciwon kauna, zazzabi shi ne a jikana.

Fever has come to my body. Fever so hot. Fever of love, fever of passion, Fever is in my body.

Sani: Zazzabi ya sauka jikina, Zazzabi ciwo mai zafi. Ciwon so, ciwon kauna, zazzabi shi ne a jikana.

Fever has come to my body. Fever so hot. Fever of love, fever of passion, Fever is in my body.

Chorus: Zazzabi ya kama masoya, zazzabi ciwo mai zafi. Ciwon so. Ciwon kauna. Zazzabi ciwo mai kuna.

This fever has captured the lovers. Fever so hot. Fever of love. Fever of passion. Fever that burns.