The Timekeeper's Legacy: A Watch Repairer's Fight Against Obsolescence in Nigeria

In Kaduna, Nigeria, 68-year-old watchmaker Bala Muhammad, known as Baba Bala, reflects on the diminishing demand for wristwatch repairs amidst the rise of mobile phones. For over fifty years, he has cherished his craft, learned from his father, yet now worries his legacy will fade as younger generations turn to technology for timekeeping. Amidst the challenges, he remains dedicated to his passion, hoping for a revival.

In the bustling city of Kaduna, Nigeria, the rhythmic ticking of clocks fills Bala Muhammad's quaint watch-repair shop, serving as both a workplace and a time capsule. At 68, Baba Bala, as he is affectionately known, finds himself at a crossroads as the street he operates on has transformed significantly over the years. Once bustling with a steady stream of customers needing watch repairs or battery replacements, his shop now sits amid building material supply stores, echoing a bygone era when wristwatches were vital.

For Baba Bala, the numbers are telling—there are days he greets zero customers. Reflecting on the decline of his trade, he notes how the increasing reliance on mobile phones for timekeeping has impacted his livelihood. "Technology has stolen my only job, and it brings me great sadness," he laments. For more than five decades, he thrived in the watch-repair business, providing for his family, and creating a legacy that his father, a renowned horologist, paved for him.

His father, Abdullahi Bala Isah, spent his life traveling West Africa to repair timepieces, instilling a deep love for watches in Bala. Nowadays, however, shadows loom over his once-flourishing business. Many of his fellow watch repairers have either passed away or abandoned their craft in the face of adversity, as seen in the case of Isa Sani, another repairer who closed his shop in 2019, resigning to farming as a means of survival.

The younger generation is not persuaded by wristwatches, with 18-year-olds Faisal Abdulkarim and Yusuf Yusha'u expressing that they see no need for them when their phones tell time. Dr. Umar Abdulmajid, a communications lecturer, points out that while traditional watches may be fading, smartwatches could potentially offer a lifeline to the industry. He suggests that seasoned repairers adapt to this new technology, yet Baba Bala remains steadfast in his dedication to the traditional craft.

Despite the downturn, Baba Bala continues to open his shop daily, supported by family who often drop by. Yearning for human connection amidst the declining trade, he listens to radio programs in Hausa during quiet hours. He acknowledges that although his youngest son, Al-Ameen, shows interest in learning the trade, he encourages him to pursue other ambitions, like becoming a pilot, rather than following the path of watch repairing.

With forgotten relics of past customers lining his workspace and hopes for a revival flickering dimly, Baba Bala remains resilient against the tide of change, embodying a craftsman's spirit in a world increasingly governed by technology.