A Nigerian watch repairer is lost in time in Kaduna

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

It’s like a time capsule from another era with the many clocks hanging on the wall and tables at the entrance full of his tools and clocks in various states of repair.

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

Until a few years ago, customers constantly came to him to fix a watch or put a new battery.

“There were times when I was getting more than 100 watch repair jobs a day,” the 68-year-old, popularly known as Baba Bala, told the BBC.

But he worries that the skills his father taught him and his brother will disappear.

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

“Phones and technology have taken away the only job I know, and that makes me very sad.”

But for more than 50 years, the watch boom allowed the family to make good money.

“I built my house and educated my children with the money I made from repairing wristwatches,” he says.

His father traveled for six months at a time across West Africa – from Senegal to Sierra Leone – fixing clocks.

At one stage, Baba Bala was based in the capital city of Abuja, home to many of the country’s elite, and he made a good living looking after the watches of the rich.

He believes that his best clients were top officials of the state-owned Nigerian National Petroleum Company (NNPC).

Some had Rolexes – these can vary widely in value, but on average one costs around $10,000 (£8,000).

He says they are beautiful – and epitomizes his love for all Swiss watches. He himself has another prestigious Swiss brand, Longines, which he only takes off when he sleeps.

“If I leave the house and forget it, I have to come back for it. I won’t be without it – that’s how important it is to me.”

In his shop, he keeps a beautiful large framed photograph of his father, Abdullahi Bala Issa, taken while he was watching from his desk a few years before his death in 1988.

Issa was a well-known watchmaker, and his acquaintances in Freetown and Dakar would call him along when they had enough watches for him to look after.

He will also make regular visits to Ibadan, a metropolis in southwestern Nigeria that is a literary center and home to the country’s first university.

Baba Bala says no one in the family knows where his father got the experience, but it was during the British colonial rule.

He himself was born four years before the declaration of independence of Nigeria in 1960.

“My father was a popular watch repairer and his skills have taken him many places. He taught me when I was young and I am proud to have followed in his footsteps.”

Baba Bala began to take a keen interest in understanding what the wheels and levers inside the clock did when he was 10 years old – and was delighted to discover that as he got older it became a good source of pocket money.

“When my classmates crashed in high school, I had money to spend because I was already repairing wristwatches.”

He remembers that his skill even impressed one of his teachers: “He had problems with some of his wristwatches, and he took them to several places, but they couldn’t make them. When he was told about me, I was able to fix all three watch the next day.”

Watches were once considered as important as clothes in Nigeria and many people felt lost without them.

Kaduna used to have a special zone where many watch sellers and repairers set up their businesses.

“The place was demolished and now it’s empty,” says Baba Bala mournfully, adding that most of his colleagues have either died or given up on the cause.

One of those who conceded defeat was Issa Sani.

“Going to my workshop every day meant sitting and not getting any work – that’s why I decided to stop going in 2019,” the 65-year-old told the BBC.

“I have land, and my children help me manage it – that’s how I can live now.”

He laments, “I don’t think wristwatches will ever come back.”

The young people who work in the construction shops next to Baba Bala agree with this.

Faisal Abdulkarim and Yusuf Youshaw, both aged 18, have never owned a watch because they never saw the need for one.

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

Dr. Umar Abdulmajid, a communications lecturer at the Yusuf Maitama University in Kano, believes things can change.

“Conventional wristwatches are definitely dying, and with them jobs like wristwatch repair, but I think with smartwatches they can make a comeback.

“The fact that a smartwatch can do so much more than just tell you the time means it can continue to attract people.”

He suggests that old watch repairers learn how to deal with this new technology: “If you don’t keep up with the times, you’ll be left behind.”

But Baba Bala, who returned from Abuja to Kaduna to set up his shop about 20 years ago because he wanted to be closer to his growing family, says he is not interested.

“It’s what I love to do, I consider myself a doctor for sick watches – plus I’m not getting any younger.”

His close-knit family remains loyal to his profession – his wife and all five of his children wear watches and often drop by his shop, where some of the watches on display are forgotten heirlooms from old customers.

“Some brought them years ago and never came back for them,” he says.

But Baba Bala refuses to give up and continues to open every day – his eldest daughter, who runs a successful clothing boutique next door, helps him with the bills when business is slow.

Baba Bala says he now often listens to his radio for the company, enjoying Hausa language programs on the BBC World Service.

In the afternoon, his youngest son, Al-Amin, comes to visit after school – the only one of his children who shows interest in learning the trade of watch repair. But he did not encourage him to pursue it as a profession.

He is pleased the 12-year-old told him he wanted to be a pilot – continuing the family tradition of seeing more of the world.

In the cockpit, he’ll encounter a variety of clock-like dials – much like his father’s workshop.