The journey to Agabu, a fishing pond located in Bassa, a richly endowed community only waiting to be discovered, begins from three different and major intersections in the western and southern parts of Nasarawa State. Visitors from other parts of the country, including Abuja, and most of north as well as south of Nigeria will take the intersection at Kofan Gwari, after leaving Keffi. Visitors coming from Jos axis can begin their journey from Garaku. Doma is the easiest link to Bassa, for visitors travelling from Lafia, Makurdi, and parts of South-East, and South-South.
Whichever way, the journey to Bassa is tortuous. It is one that takes the visitor through roads that will make them wish they never began the journey. At every point, the roads bring the visitor face to face with torture. No one sleeps, no matter how comfortable their vehicle may be. The journey to Bassa brings pain. Yet, first time visitors never turn back at any point. This is so because the journey, brings them into the warm embrace of amazing grace of nature. It is a journey to a haven, though locked away from the rest of the world for of lack of access.
This reporter took the link from Kofan Gwari. There, the trip leads through villages. But that is when the vehicle the traveler is using is able to make it to the other bank of Ayini River, crossing a partly concrete, partly steel, and partly wooden bridge of about 25 metres. The bridge – a military-style construction – was constructed in 1989 by the old Keffi Local Government Council, then under the military government of the old Plateau State. That period was widely hailed for being responsible for much of the physical development still on ground in the new state of Nasarawa, 16 years after its creation.
Gadan Ayini, as the bridge is called in Hausa, has fallen apart since then, leaving three pillars and metal that look much like the carcass of a large reptile. To sustain its usefulness, villagers have had to always use communal arrangements to levy themselves to buy planks of wood which are carefully laid across the steel bars, in all seasons. Each vehicle that drives across the bridge shatters the makeshift bridge, and disorganizes the arrangement – sometimes, throwing off the planks of wood.
“It is only one vehicle at a time”, a road user at that point told Sunday Trust. He explained that “the next driver will have to come down and arrange the planks for him to pass. It goes on like that because every use shatters the arrangement.” All passengers must always go down, and allow the driver alone cross, to avoid the obvious risk.
This reporter counted about 66 planks laid on the metalbars, to provide access for vehicles heading into the villages ahead. 15 kilomtres drive on, and there is Bakin Ayini. It is the first big village to reach; and the dusty road takes the traveler right through the village. The thatched huts and accompanying granaries are closely built, leaving only a little space for human movement. The only vehicular road is the one that takes the traveler past the village to the next; and because of construction going on any vehicle that passes raises dust right into the nose.
Amba is the next village. Here, there is a connection with the road from Garaku through Dari. The link to Bassa is on the right, leading through several sleepy communities: Kandere, Angwan Jada, Angwan Sarkin Baka, and Angwan Gimba. The road is bad through these villages. It is rougher, and deteriorating further with rain which is quickly intensifying. Every rainfall worsens the road; washes it off, exposing sharp rocks that make driving even worse. At every point, the erosion of the road has deepened it, and further narrowed it, to allow for only one vehicle at a time.
It was not a market day – the day when this road witnesses vehicular traffic through the villages – but a few old and ailing, but over-loaded trucks, mostly conveying farm produce and their owners, were on it, especially between Amba and Bassa. Sunday Trust counted four vehicles on the road, for a journey that lasted hours, and running several kilometers. Only one of them did not stop; the three others all developed problems, and collapsed in the middle of the road. At those points, passengers, except for the driver of the vehicle this reporter travelled in, disembarked, and assisted in pushing the dead vehicles off, to make way.
At one point, it rained, and the sacks of groundnuts one of the dead trucks was conveying, were soaked. The driver, his conductor, and two female passengers managed to hide from the rain, inside the driver’s cabin – all crammed against each other. The rest of the passengers climbed up the hill by the side of the road, and hid in tree leaves.
The journey took two hours and more, on a road that is slightly over a hundred kilometers, yet Bassa was still an hour ahead. But the signs of this widely talked about community started manifesting right from Angwan Gimba, the last major community along the road. From there first time visitors travelling along that road would wish they disembarked from the vehicle and continued the journey on foot; to have the feel of the natural endowment that lies there, yet untapped, in these parts of the state.
The soil is fertile even from just looking at it. This is not to talk of the large tubers of yam, cassava, shafts of different kinds of grains, and the abundance of paddy rice and other harvests that one is sure to see as he drives through the villages. This is no harvest season in Bassa, where farming is tied to only one season, and where farming is still at subsistence level as it s to nearly all Nigerians making a living from the soil. But there are large bans and granaries built in every compound, indicative of what the farmers turn in at the end of harvests. The roadside trading of these crops caps the imagination of what is coming out of these bans and granaries: it is like an agricultural show, with the parade of the large harvests, displayed by proud farmers. That is what comes out of the soil at Bassa.
The land is plain, stretching into endless expanses. From both sides of the road, it can be seen, and even felt, when one closes the eyes to imagine better. The weather around these communities is cool, and inviting. Both weather, and the fertility of the soil, lying vast, and plain, and stretching to such expanses keep inviting the eyes to trail further; all combine to welcome the first time visitor. The main population comprises: Nupe, Basa, Hausa, Fulani, Eggon, Gwandara, Tiv, and Nungu tribes.
Bassa is not only home to the overpowering grace of nature; a land described by many as another Garden of Eden, or as a virgin land waiting to be explored. It is also home to multitudes of tribes, all in of the search for agricultural opportunities started by their great grandparents. Oral tradition says some of them are warrior tribes; their forefathers waged and fought many internecine wars in defence from aggression, to finally settle and begin life at Bassa.
At the first contact with Bassa, one is sure to smell the sweet aroma of rice, locally parboiled, and milled at various corners of the community. It is part of the harvest coming from a large expanse of wetland which stretches from Rutu River, off Benue River, to Agabu fishing pond in Bassa. The road leads right through the community, as if to divide Bassa in two halves. A little to the outskirts, the road divides into two, creating a “Y”, with the left taking the visitor to Agwada, headquarters of the development area, while the right one takes the visitor straight to the great Agabu fishing pond. The road to Agabu terminates there. That was the destination of this reporter.
The day was Saturday, April 21, scheduled by the development area for the fishing fiesta. The festival which attracted people, including those who have earned big names, has also earned Bassa a name so unique that many wonder why it is yet to rise and compete with some of Nigeria’s big fishing festivals like that of Argungu.
The day was still young when this reporter got there. It was the time to prepare the pond for the yearly event. Men, women; and children of all ages even as tender as six, were there. All worked hard, in a communal spirit that brought all hands pulling at the weeds that had once taken over the pond. In about an hour, what had lied there like a vast and untended vegetable garden, had given way to a large expanse of water that is Agabu Pond.
The time for casting the big fishing net – one which was used to drag in the catches from the common pool – was next. The weaver called Abubakar, was only given, measurement of the pond, to weave according to the width youngmen, mostly, cast the dragnet, taking their time in order not to entangle it at any point. Women tagged along, removing mud where it was necessary, so that the movement of the net later on in the evening was not impeded. Only one dragnet was cast on the day, as has been the practice during festivals; and the net belongs to the entire community.
Anything the dragnet caught belonged to the community. The common pool is the pond from where officials from the development area other dignitaries and elders who grace the festival, take their fish home. So after the main fishing is done downstream during the day, the big people, waiting in the shed in the canopies, will also do their fishing, upstream in the evening. It is an old practice. In Bassa, western civilization is strong, but age-long traditional values still have their place, and are being jealously guarded against incursions. The practice where the best catches are laid at the feet of the patiently waiting dignitaries, is one of such traditions that has refused to die in Bassa. Sarkin Bassa, as the traditional ruler is called in Hausa, has a central role to play here, and he sits patiently during the fishing period, waiting, and watching. He rises, and assumes his role as the man in charge. By evening, when the best catches are all assembled, and laid at his feet, he will do the head count of the dignitaries, using the index finger. He returns to the catches, pointing and matching them with the number of dignitaries as gift.
This is what Alhaji Yunusa Salihu, the current chief of Bassa did on that day. Using his right fingers, he collapsed the five fingers of the left hand, one after another, repeating same, carefully in order not to miss out a dignatory. The sharing took time, but the traditional ruler performed his duty carefully, until he came to his own turn. The tradition has been that as the father, he is he last to take the share. Sunday Trust inquiries about the tradition showed that in times past, the chief ended up with some miserable share; all to make sure his guests went back home happy.
“He is good. He is like his late father”, exclaimed an elder who handed his own share to his young wives, leading them home for dinner with fresh fish.
There were other big catches which were not from the dragnets. They were turned in, willingly, by the fisher men. Where there is recalcitrance, there are men of the vigilante group, going around to ensure full compliance with the longstanding tradition. That too, has been the practice. At the helm of this practice is a man called “Wakilin Ruwan Agabu”, a Hausa traditional title for an agent of the community put in charge of fishing in Agabu. He is Alhaji Salihu Mukaila. He is a veteran; and has earned a name in fishing. Way back in 1987; then in middle age, Mukaila, now 70, dragged home a hippopotamus. His dragnet caught Dorina, as the hippo is called in Hausa.
“I saw the net being dragged. It was a big net. I drew near that afternoon, to discover it caught a hippo. I rushed back home to call Mohammed Aruwa to come help me. We dragged and dragged, and killed the hippo”, he told Sunday Trust. The catch was sold to Muhammad Soro, now late, Mukaila said, adding that the vital parts of the hippo including head and testicles were taken to the palace, and laid at the feet of the then chief of Bassa, father to the incumbent chief.
In Bassa, traditional titles are still revered, and won only on merit. On that day, Aruwa who had held no title before was decorated with the title of “Madakin Ruwan Agabu”, to mean second in command. Mukaila earned the “Wakilin Ruwan Agabu” title. He had just a wife then, but since then, he married more than five times – all of them maidens – because of his fame.
On the day of Agabu Fishing Festival, Mukaila was everywhere. He was the field commander, reporting to the chief who has remained the Commander-In-Chief. Mukaila was paddled round in an old canoe, on which he superintended the fishing activities from weeding, casting of the big net, to the turning in of the big catches. At one time, he was heard shouting orders to the vigilante group, who complied, accordingly, at another, he was allocating space to women who fried fish; and to other sundry petty traders who took advantage of the festival to make brisk businesses. The festival, as has been the tradition, was an attraction of all activities: fishing, dances, folklore, commerce, and security. The Wakilin Ruwan Agabu was in charge of them all. But he had to be reporting to the chief, from where he also took fresh orders.
Our reporter observed that all dignitaries spoken to; said they were impressed by the sizes of fish that came out of Agabu, and the coordination of the event which is still held under management of the community, almost a century after.
“During Shagari era, the government of the then Plateau State, under then Governor Solomon Lar, recognized this festival, and planned to boost it as a tourism attraction”, said Sarkin Bassa, Alhaji Salihu, who also expressed sadness that that administration did not last long enough to fulfill its promises. Lar, among other civilian governors of the Second Republic, were booted out of power in a bloodless military coup on December 31, 1983, which saw the taking over of the then General Muhammadu Buhari.
But Bitrus Oseshi Igwo, Special Adviser to Governor Umaru Tanko Al-Makura, promised to take the appeal of the people of Agabu to his boss who he represented at the event. He informed them of the governor’s plans for Bassa, to start with the construction of the road to open the area for investment in various forms including agro based ones, and the development of Agabu generally.
Umar Musa Obakpa, the administrator of Agwada development area hailed the festival as being second to none in the North-Central zone of the country, and called for investments. He also hailed the governor’s intention to salvage Bassa, which he described as “a haven locked away from global attention.”
