Hauwa Ibrahim is a Nigerian lawyer, feminist, research associate and visiting lecturer on Women’s Studies at Harvard University, United States of America. In a chat with Abdulrafiu Lawal, she talks about the journey up the ladder, and her role in the famous case of Amina Lawal woman sentenced to death for adultery by a Katsina sharia court.
HAUWA Ibrahim, wearing a brown coat over a black trouser and a purple head scarf sits on a sofa in the living room of her expansive house in Sudbury, Massachusetts, United States. She crosses her legs and begins returning missed calls on her phone.
This house is a 4-bedroom single family house built with stones. The landscape of the house mirrors her as someone who loves tranquility and all one can hear are chirps of birds perching on the trees. A tarred road in a zigzag pattern leads right to the entrance of the house standing alone in the woods. Welcome to the home of this amazon.
Ibrahim’s story from a humble beginning to comfort underscores the importance of believing in oneself and seeing opportunities where others see failure. Growing up in a polygamous home in Hinna, a small village without electricity, pipe-borne water and good roads in Gombe, North Eastern Nigeria with her grandfather was ”fun and amazing.” Then, the most important thing in the life of a woman was marriage.
Inspired by her mother and grandfather who instilled in her the values of hard work and determination, she says going to her sexagenarian grandfather’s farm with her sisters was all she knew. ”I remember at that age at about 6-7, we had to run after him because he was always walking fast. Our first experience on the farm, he was upset when he gave us a hoe to weed the grasses, not knowing we were removing the millet and corn.” Today, she recalls the experience with nostalgia, but then it was like a punishment.
She said a typical day begins with the morning call to prayers by Baba Ladan. The first thing they do is to do ablution and pray as their grandfather leads the prayer most of the time. ”After prayers, we take our pot and calabash to the river to fetch water. This is because water was a big issue in the village, we have two wells but they are not sufficient for everyone.”
In the evening, she listens to moonlight stories from her grandmother. For Ibrahim, these stories mean a lot, because they were tales of heroism, kindness and love. “These stories do have meanings and instill values in you, but you would not know it could be useful. When there is moon, the drummer in the village takes his drum and the entire village converges at the village square (Dandali). We dance off our heads and bodies and everyone is having fun. Nobody thinks of any criminal activity because you are all tired and exhausted.”
When she is not in school, Ibrahim hawks vegetables sourced from gardens (Lambu) like oranges, mangoes, sugar cane, sweet potatoes and sell from house to house in the village. Sometimes, she and other girls go to the Birma Mountains and get firewood to sell. She said this experience shaped her life because she can function with as little as three hours of sleep.”If I have five hours, it is much more than enough. It has not changed me and has not made me go bananas. I read works of scholars on child psychology. I will tell you about a friend whose mother is a medical doctor in France. She was born in the late 1800 and lived over ninety years, died at ninety-six in the late 90s. Her mum insisted she must have nine hours of sleep, but when we met and when she saw what I was doing, she said I must be out of my mind.”
Growing up in a male-dominated society made Ibrahim show early traces of an anti-establishment. As a custom then, most girls never went beyond primary school because they were married off to a man chosen by their parents after their first menstrual period. Though, her older sister was allowed to go to Government Secondary School, Misau. As a way of keeping the issue from nosy villagers who frown at the idea of sending a girl child to school, Ibrahim’s mother told them she was staying with her parents in Bukuru, Jos which was far away from Hinna. In her case, she completed her primary school but her mother opposed her going to secondary school after gaining admission to Women Teachers College, Azare. This school was ranked among the lowest in Northern Nigeria because the highest were the federal government colleges and then Queen’s College.
Now you want to know the reason why her mother felt she could not be trusted and she answers this way: ”You know the honour of the family is on the girl child. So any dishonour the girl brings to the family will ruin it by getting pregnant outside wedlock. And the sign of playing with young boys and cars are signs that I may be the one to bring disgrace to the family.”
Undeterred by threats from her mother to disown her, Ibrahim ran away to the school in Azare with profits made from selling vegetables and fire wood. ”I took a rickety truck conveying goods called ”Bolekaja”. I was sat on top of goods. I knew how to get to Gombe. It took more than twenty-four hours and I remember that we slept somewhere and then the following day, we arrived in Azare. You know I did not have money for taxi or bus. I got to Azare accidentally. During our time, you go to the Vice Principal’s office and you get free uniform, shoes, socks and two sets of house clothes. The only thing I had was a mat. I am not sure I had a bucket.”
Ibrahim never knew what education could do to her life though she desired it. Aware of the consequences of her actions, Ibrahim moved to the house of her uncle, Musa Garba, for the first semester break. Succour came her way a year later when a family meeting was summoned where she begged for forgiveness from her mother. Ibrahim’s mother reluctantly accepted her plea but with a caveat not to disgrace the family.
Crossing this hurdle was not the end of her challenges, because going to college for Ibrahim turned out to be more difficult. ”My getting educated and reading law was accidental, but, I recall my mother all the time saying her life would have been better if she was educated.”
Now living with her older sister in the city who was married to a graduate, she saw the commissioner for women affairs on television talking about opportunities for girl child education and desired meeting her. ”I managed to see her after several attempts but she told me I may not get into college because my English was bad,” she says.
Ibrahim was eventually admitted into the university on two grounds, namely, coming from an educationally disadvantaged community and encouraging girl child education.
Her first year was a struggle as she did not understand what was taught in class but relied on her male friends to explain things to her. ”I was never a rebel or black sheep of the family as my mother thought, I was just different because I hated gossip.”
After university, Ibrahim joined the Nigeria Police on the advice of her course mate. She says, “he believed I could make a difference because women from Northern Nigeria did not like joining the police.” However, the rebel in her soon manifested as she had to quit because she did not agree with the secrecy that dominated police operations. In 1989, she moved to the ministry of justice as a state counsel which was a big deal. Seven years later, Ibrahim resigned to set up her law firm as the first female lawyer from her state. ”It was tough, for two years I had no single client because no one believed in me as a woman and in the area where I come from, cases are settled through other means.”
Undaunted, she went back to the ministry of justice to beg for social welfare cases on pro bono basis. However, many of these cases bordering on violence against women and paternity issues were resolved outside the courts. This was because opinion leaders and community elders settled these cases as litigation was frowned at.
Recalling her most memorable experience in court, Ibrahim says as a state attorney she was always part of preparing cases and accompanied to court by a senior lawyer. However, her senior colleague wanted to groom her and tricked her by going to the restroom a few minutes before their case was called. The judge, looking at her straight in the face, asked her to proceed with the case. ”I managed to do it for the first time but I was shivering and felt like sinking before the judge,” she says.
In 1999, the northern states in Nigeria introduced sharia law, the strict Islamic legal system which contradicted the country’s secular constitution and prescribes death by stoning for pregnancy outside wedlock. Handling Amina Lawal’s case, a 30-year-old, who was sentenced to death by stoning for conceiving outside marriage by a sharia court, brought her fame and international recognition. Miffed that the man who impregnated Amina was discharged for lack of evidence without a DNA test, Ibrahim led a team of lawyers and won the case. She says at the beginning, it was like any other case for her. ”I had handled similar cases before then. I get most of my cases from Non Governmental Organisations (NGO) but Amina’s case was referred to me by Dan Isaac of the BBC in Lagos.”
Winning the case was not without a price. She resorted to leaving office early on Fridays before the congregational prayers because of threat from fundamentalists who referred to her as the ” jew of Islam”.’
This first female lawyer from her locality who was awarded the Sakharov Prize for Freedom of Thought by the European Union Parliament in 2005 and a dozen others from around the world says she never imagined that education could give her a better life.
” My mother called me on phone and said she was proud of me for the first time in over forty years. I am not sure what she thought, but I think am not the rebel anymore but the child she would love to see.”
Ibrahim, who now teaches Woman Justice and Sharia at Harvard University, says it is a turning point for her. She says life is tough as a wife, teacher and mother with two teenage kids in America because you have to balance all. At this point, her Italian husband and kids Nico 15, and Silvio 10, returned from Connecticut where they had gone to spend the thanksgiving break. Nico is a chip off the old block, quiet and lanky with a round face while the youngest (Silvio) is loud and full of youthful exuberance. One can see all the traces of the village rebel Hauwa, though with a cause who ran away to school, in Nico. He hugs his mother and begins to open drawers in the kitchen talking loudly to his friend who came to spend the night. Ibrahim had to order him to go out of her room because he was causing distraction. Silvio complied, but on the condition that he will use her computer which she does not allow under normal circumstances. ”His brother has grown but he has refused to grow. He always wants to be beside me. Anytime I travel, he misses me a lot .”
Ibrahim who holds a Masters degree in International Law and Diplomacy says her dream is to see a Northern Nigeria where women have equal opportunities like their male counterparts. ”My plan for the future is to see that things are done differently and that we are able to maintain those parts of our justice system that have worked for us instead of importing transitional justice which emphasises building of more prisons instead of schools.” She recently presented her first book, Shariah Law: Seven Strategies for Achieving Justice in Shariah Courts. ”
On what she considers as her weakness, she says trusting people and always wanting to have her way. Regarding Ibrahim’s love for properties despite her humble background, she says it is a matter of belief that buying properties is a way of saving for the rainy day.
What would she have done apart from legal practice? Ibrahim says nursing because she loves to care for people. She says, ”you can be whatever you choose to be, all you need is to have it within you,” drops her phone on the sofa and moves to the kitchen to prepare dinner for the family.
