The Nigerian watch-lover lost in period

Ifiokabasi Ettang / BBC A close-up of Bala Muhammad looking at a watch through a special eye-glass in his right eye

Ticking is the predominant sound inside Bala Muhammad’s tiny watch-repair shop, tucked away on a bustling street in the northern Nigerian city of Kaduna.

It is like a period capsule from a different era with numerous clocks hanging on the wall and tiny tables at the entrance packed of his tools and watches in various states of repair.

His shop is on one of Kaduna’s busiest shopping streets – sandwiched between building material suppliers.

Until a few years ago, he had a steady stream of customers dropping by to get their watches fixed or get a recent battery fitted.

“There were times I get more than 100 wristwatch-repair jobs in a day,” the 68-year-ancient, popularly known as Baba Bala, told the BBC.

But he worries that his skills – taught to him and his brother by their father – will die out.

“Some days there are zero customers,” he says, blaming people using their mobile phones to check the period for the decline in his trade.

“Phones and technology have taken away the only job I recognize and it makes me very unhappy.”

But for more than 50 years, the boom in watches allowed the household to make a excellent living.

“I built my house and educated my children all from the proceeds of wristwatch repairing,” he says.

His father would trip all over West Africa for six months at a period – from Senegal to Sierra Leone – fixing timepieces.

At one stage Baba Bala was based in the fund, Abuja, where many of the country’s elite live – and he made a excellent living tending to the watches of the wealthy.

He reckons his best customers were top officials of the state-owned oil firm Nigerian National Petroleum business (NNPC).

Some had Rolexes – these can vary wildly in worth but an average one costs around $10,000 (£8,000).

He says they are attractive – and encapsulate his adore for all watches from Switzerland. He himself owns a Longines, another prestigious Swiss brand, which he only removes when he sleeps.

“If I step out of my house and I forgot it, I have to leave back for it. I will not be without it – that is how significant it is to me.”

At his shop, he keeps a attractive large framed photo of his father, Abdullahi Bala Isah, taken as he looked up from his work bench a few years before his death in 1988.

Baba Bala’s father, who died in 1988, was a renowned horologist who travelled across West Africa fixing watches

Ifiokabasi Ettang / BBC Bala Muhammad, wearing wire-rimmed glasses and a long-sleeved pin-stripped blue shirt, sits in a white-painted wooden chair holding up a wide-wooden framed black-and-white photograph of his father, who is pictured looking at the camera as he sits at his workshop bench. He is wearing a sleeveless boubou. A desk fan can be seen in the background and a pendulum clock hangs on the wall — Baba Bala’s father, who died in 1988, was a renowned horologist who travelled across West Africa fixing watches

Isah was a renowned horologist and his contacts in Freetown and Dakar would call him to receive a trip when they had enough watches for him to tend to.

He would also make regular visits to Ibadan, a metropolis in the south-west of Nigeria – a literary hub and home to the country’s first university.

Baba Bala says no-one in the household knows where his father learnt his expertise – but it would have been at the period of British colonial rule.

He himself was born four years before Nigeria’s independence in 1960.

“My father was a popular wristwatch repairer and his skill took him to many places. He taught me when I was youthful and I am proud to have followed his footsteps.”

Baba Bala started taking a close gain in understanding the intricacies of what the wheels and levers inside a watch do when he was 10 – and was delighted to discover that as he got older it became a excellent source of pocket money.

“When my fellow students were broke in secondary school, I had money to spend at the period because I was already repairing wristwatches.”

He remembers his skill even impressed one of his teachers: “He had issues with some of his wristwatches and had taken them to several places and they couldn’t do them. When he was told about me I was able to fix all three of the watches by next day.”

At one point, watches were seen as significant as clothes in Nigeria and many people felt lost without one.

Some customers left their watches for repair years ago and have never returned

Ifiokabasi Ettang / BBC Various old wristwatches laid out on a wood table — Some customers left their watches for repair years ago and have never returned

Kaduna used to have a dedicated area where many watch-sellers and repairers set up their businesses.

“The place has been demolished and is now vacant,” declare Baba Bala mournfully, adding that most of his colleagues are either dead or have given up on the business.

One of those who admitted loss was Isa Sani.

“Going to my repair shop daily meant sitting down and getting no work – that’s why I decided to stop going in 2019,” the 65-year-ancient told the BBC.

“I have land and my children assist me to farm on it – that is how I am able to get by these days.”

He laments: “I don’t ponder wristwatches will ever make a comeback.”

The youngsters working at the building supply shops next to Baba Bala consent.

Faisal Abdulkarim and Yusuf Yusha’u, both aged 18, have never owned watches as they have never seen a require for them.

“I can check the period on my phone whenever I desire to and it’s always with me,” one said.

Dr Umar Abdulmajid, a communications lecturer at Yusuf Maitama University in Kano, believes things may transformation.

“Conventional wristwatches are no question dying and with it jobs like wristwatch repairs too, but with the smartwatch I ponder they could make a comeback.

“The truth a smartwatch can do much more than just display you the period means it could continue to attract people.”

He suggests ancient watch-repairers discover how to grapple with this recent technology: “If you don’t shift with the times you get left behind.”

But Baba Bala, who returned from Abuja to Kaduna to set up his shop about 20 years ago as he wanted to be nearer his growing household, says this does not gain him.

“This is what I adore doing, I consider myself a doctor for ill wristwatches – plus I am not getting any younger.”

Baba Bala spends most of his period at the shop listening to the information on his radio

Ifiokabasi Ettang / BBC Bala Muhammad holding a radio in his shop — Baba Bala spends most of his period at the shop listening to the information on his radio

His tight-knit household remain faithful to his profession – his wife and all his five children wear watches and often pop in to visit him at the shop, where some of the timepieces on display are forgotten relics from ancient customers.

“Some brought them many years ago and didn’t profitability for them,” he says.

But Baba Bala refuses to provide up and still opens up daily – his eldest daughter, who runs a successful clothes boutique nearby, helps him with bills when his business is leisurely.

Without much to keep him busy – or the chatter and gossip of his customers, Baba Bala says he now often listens to his radio for business, enjoying the Hausa language programmes on the BBC globe Service.

In the afternoon his youngest son, Al-Ameen, comes to visit after school – the only one of his children to display an gain in learning the art of watch-repairing. But he would not inspire him to receive it up as a profession.

He is pleased that the 12-year-ancient has told him he wants to be a pilot – continuing the household custom of seeing more of the globe.

In a cockpit, he would be faced with many watch-like dials – not unlike his dad’s workshop.