A day in the life of Kwara’s town crier

They go drumming in hand, on foot or sometimes on bicycles, shouting or screaming at the top of their voices, sharing information with community members. Most times, their drums signal the break of dawn in some communities; town criers are known to bridge communication gaps between community members and the leadership of the community. Armed with drums, bells, trumpets or whistles, they stop at strategic places in the community like markets, worship centres, shouting the news, repeating key messages for emphasis as they walk through the village to deliver the message.

Interestingly, the role of a historically male-dominated trade in many societies, is a tradition found in places with deep-rooted culture. Over decades, town criers, usually a local or member of the community have been known to be an important part of a community’s history and culture, who are appointed by the community’s leadership to share news and developments concerning the community.

A town crier in a village is an appointed community member who delivers important news and announcements orally to residents, especially in communities where literacy is limited. They act as a traditional messenger for community leaders, sharing information on events, communal activities, and public decrees using instruments like a gong or drum to get people’s attention.

Most times, these town criers serve as the primary source of information, especially in rural areas but with technological evolution taking over the communication space, town criers are gradually going extint in various communities if not completely nonexistent in many. Weekend Trust spotlights the life of  a town crier in Kwara  State. Ambassador Ambali Azeez has spent decades as the town crier of Shao community, Moro Local Government Area of Kwara State delivering messages from the palace, government and local groups.

Today, he is considering stepping aside from an age-long trade turned passion he has done for decades, largely due to financial pressure, long hours and the dangers that come with the job, among other hazards.

Unlike in Ilọrin where palace sources say the practice of traditional town criers has gone extinct, the situation is different in Moro.

Long before the first call to prayer is heard across Shao community, Moro Local Government of Kwara State, Ambassador Ambali Azeez is already out on his motorcycle, navigating the lonely streets to start the day’s work.

His action has formed part of the community’s morning routine for decades, and he has become known for carrying messages from the palace, government, local associations and sometimes warnings that could save lives, to community members.

But the job that keeps the community informed and safe has not been easy for him. He said it had become one of the most financially draining assignments in his life.

“I am now a special assistant in Moro Local Government to the council chairman and that has limited my time for the work. I have already asked our monarch to assign someone who will take over from me,” he explained.

His decision follows years of unpaid or poorly paid labour, rising fuel prices, long hours of trekking in the past and the tension of dealing with people who sometimes react violently to announcements they do not like.

Expressing his frustration, Azeez said town crying is demanding and expensive, but most people think it is simply community service that requires no payment.

“The financial challenge is too much. Clients make empty and unfulfilled promises, even after asking for my account number. I fuel my motorcycle and handle all my expenses myself and the community will give only N2,000,” he said.

He recalls various instances when people hired him for major announcements, promising to pay and later disappeared.

Meanwhile, he had moved around the community for days, morning and evening, repeating the message and burning the fuel he bought.

“There were times I made announcements for five days. I bought fuel, went around the community, and in the end, there was no payment. They only give me money for fuel, not the main payment we agreed on.

“Gradually, I reached a point where I had to choose between serving my community in an unpaid role or focusing on the government appointment that pays. I asked myself whether it was worth it. I am contemplating staying with my government job and appointing someone who has the time to carry on.”

He said that whenever he received a message to broadcast, “My routine is to go around before 5am before people wake up. Then I go again around 6pm to repeat the announcement so that the message sinks.

“Many residents think the job is simply riding around with a megaphone, but it involves more. I move slowly through narrow paths, markets, compounds and remote corners of the community. The goal is to reach every nook and cranny in the grassroots.”

He said the types of announcements ranged widely. “They include the arrival of political figures, meetings between the government and the people, warnings on harmful practices, messages from traditional authorities, public health information and emergency alerts.

“Even meat sellers, fish sellers, pepper sellers and okra sellers engage me to announce their messages. The payment is very small but I still do it.

“Sometimes my voice breaks after hours of shouting into the megaphone and I have to buy medicine myself to treat it. It is not encouraging at all,” he said.

Azeez said he came from a long line of town criers. His ancestors, he noted, used the traditional bronze gong and its beater to summon attention. But the gong has disappeared from most parts of Moro.

“I came from a family of town criers well known in Shao. After our father died, I volunteered to continue the work. The old tools are no longer visible, so we adopted microphones and other equipment to meet modern needs.

“The traditional gong, once the pride of the trade, is now extinct in the community. In its place, we have turned to megaphone that the community and traditional council helped purchase several years ago.

“We now even post announcements on the social media. It helps the message reach more people, but it also means I spend more money buying data,” he added.

He said that before he got his motorcycle, he walked long distances to make announcements, to the extent that his feet swelled and his wife had to massage them with hot water, explaining that town crying is not as harmless as many people assume.

Sometimes the message provokes anger. Sometimes it touches political nerves. At other times it upsets rival groups who feel the information affects their interest.

Recalling a frightening incident he said, “I have been attacked and beaten. Some people in another community considered the announcement I was making offensive. They beat me mercilessly. It was the community that later rescued me and arrested the culprits. I have also been threatened by rival associations who felt a particular announcement was not favourable to them. The risks are many. We face danger, even when we are only doing our job.”

According to him, because town criers move widely, they often notice things that ordinary residents do not see. He said this had made him an informal source of intelligence for the community and the authorities.

He said, “Anything I see that deserves the attention of the governor, commissioner of police, security head, vigilantes or hunters, I pass it on. Also, it might be a security threat, a bad road, a transformer issue or a water problem to bring the government closer to the people and secure the community.

“Town crying is more than announcing events, it is part of community safety and development.”

Despite all the challenges, Azeez still loves one aspect of the job: “The best time for me is early morning when people are still in their beds because the message sinks deeply. There is silence everywhere and the voice goes far,” he said.

He warmed those who are still into town crying business, especially youths, to be contented despite financial challenges.

“Not every job I have been offered is acceptable. I was once offered N5 million by an evil-minded person. He wanted me to announce something that would cause trouble in the community and I refused. Some young people would have accepted to do it, even with N100,00, but I cannot destroy my community.

Azeez believes the craft will become safer and more effective if the government or traditional authorities provide “better tools such as more reliable microphones, megaphones, motorcycles, and possibly, vehicles.”

….’Traditional beliefs sustaing art of town crying’

Speaking on the issue with Weekend Trust, a resident, Mr Salau Bello attributed the continued use of town criers in the community to long standing beliefs and traditional practices.

According to him, certain festival periods come with cultural warnings that community leaders prefer to communicate through traditional means rather than modern communication channels.

“Sometimes the traditional ruler warns the people through the town criers about certain actions during festivals that they believe may harm the community if they engage in it. So, they use the town criers to make the announcement where regulatory bodies might not be aware,” he said.

However, another resident, Alhaji Abdullateef Adebara, explained that the practice is also sustained by the realities of rural life, where many locals have little or no access to mobile phones or social media.

“The traditional ruler has a number of villages under his authority and most of the locals do not have access to social media due to their lack of education,” he said.

Adebara noted that the town criers often move through common gathering points to reach people who rely on community meeting places for information.

“Some of them mostly come to the market place or square through which the message gets across to them and others in the environs. These are the reasons,” he said.

He recalled how the town crier messenger system was activated during a recent visit by the Minister of Health for a vaccination exercise recently.

“IThe minister of health was in the community to give vaccines and when they came to the palace, luckily I was around, the traditional ruler summoned the town criers so that the people will not see them as strangers, especially in this era of insecurity,” he said.

According to him, the town criers helped mobilise residents. At the same time, other volunteers distributed fliers and posters and moved around on motorcycles or on foot to deliver the message across the villages.

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