Your Excellency, there was a time in Bauchi when the mere mention of the forest guards sent fear down people’s spines. As children, we knew them. They patrolled bushes and farmlands. Whoever they caught cutting down trees illegally, even within their farms, faced serious consequences. That was at a time when climate change issues were not yet our daily reality. That was when desert encroachment had not reached the frightening level we see today in Bauchi.
Today, those hardworking men are nowhere to be found, at least entirely in northern Bauchi, which comprises 7 of the 20 LGAs. And if they still exist on paper, they no longer exist in action. Trees are being cut down openly, recklessly, and without consequence, and forests are thinning, especially in rural communities.
I first learnt that things could be different while I was a student at Bayero University, Kano. A course mate from Jigawa told me how authorities in his state deal decisively with anyone involved in illegal tree felling. At first, I didn’t believe it, as I thought he was just proud of his state. Later, while in Abuja, I heard the same story from someone who was not even from Jigawa. Recently, while in Bauchi, another friend repeated the same story. At that point, it became clear that Jigawa got it right in this fight. They chose enforcement, seriousness, and consistency.
Ironically, Bauchi is the state that should be leading this fight. We are already a semi-arid state. We are under serious threat of desert encroachment. The signs are clear everywhere. However, it is unfortunate that trees are being cut down daily for charcoal production, bread bakeries, construction materials, and firewood. Much of the charcoal produced in Bauchi is not even consumed here. It is transported to other states, while we are left with degraded land, exposed soil, and worsening heat.
This is a survival issue.
I was privileged to attend a high-level policy dialogue in Abuja organised by the Centre for Renewable Energy and Action on Climate Change CREACC-NG, where the charcoal economy was discussed extensively. That dialogue shaped my understanding. I learnt about the money involved, the livelihoods dependent on it, and the reason people engage in it. But I also learnt about its devastating consequences: accelerated desert encroachment, soil erosion, loss of biodiversity, declining agricultural productivity, and long-term poverty for the same communities that depend on it today.
This is why I have consistently advocated for decentralised clean energy solutions, especially for rural populations. If Nigeria is serious about meeting its clean cooking targets and its net-zero commitments, then alternatives must be made available. Enforcement without alternatives will fail. But alternatives without enforcement will also fail.
Jigawa understood this balance. Bauchi can also learn from it.
Your Excellency, dealing decisively with illegal tree felling does not mean criminalizing poverty. It means recognizing that the cost of inaction is far higher than the cost of intervention. It means reviving and empowering forest guards, and sending a clear message that our environment is not a free-for-all. It also means investing in solar cooking solutions, clean energy for rural bakeries, and affordable alternatives for households.
Climate change is apparently no longer approaching Bauchi or any part of Nigeria; it is already here with us. The heat we feel, the erratic rain we experience, the dust we breathe, and the land we are losing are all reminders. The generation before us enforced tree protection when the threat was smaller. We have no excuse for failing to do so now that the threat is existential.
Bauchi still has time to act. Jigawa has shown that political will works. I hope we choose to learn.
- Isah Kamisu Madachi is a public policy enthusiast and development practitioner. He writes from Abuja, and can be reached via: [email protected]
