The dusty area of Katsina during the harmattan period had a way peculiar way of changing everything shoes, walls, to red. For Musa, it was more than soil, it was a reminder of where he came from, and how far he still had to go, even as a 17 year old boy at the time. After the flood of the just passed raining season in August, his family’s home had been washed away. His mother’s cooking pots floated past him , and his father’s old big radio was never found. They took refuge in the half-collapsed classroom of the village primary school, sleeping on mats that smelled of lost hope. Musa had always dreamed of being a builder, not just any builder, but one who would make houses that could stand against anything. “If the ground is solid, everything else will stand,” his father, who was also a builder before he passed once said. That sentence stuck with him through life. Months later, when the government sent aid workers and NGO’s to rebuild the area, Musa offered to help. They laughed at first a boy of seventeen, thin as a broomstick, asking to carry cement bags, but he showed up every day, mixing sand and water until his palms blistered and his back ached even as a young boy.
One afternoon, an old engineer noticed him sketching something on a broken slate(called “Allo” in Hausa) a small house on a raised foundation, with drainage paths for floodwater. “Where did you learn that?” the man asked. Musa smiled. “From watching the water destroy what wasn’t solid.” Years passed, and his design simple, cheap, and strong was used to rebuild dozens of homes across his village. People started calling him Musa Mai Gini,(Musa the Builder). When he built his own house, his mother stood in the doorway, tracing the edges of the wall as if it were a living thing. “This one,” she said softly, “is standing on solid ground.” Musa looked out at the horizon, at the red soil stretching endlessly beneath the sun. For the first time in his life, he believed it.
Gaskiya Musa mai gini ne, he is such a genius