In a small, cluttered shop in the heart of Kaduna, northern Nigeria, the sound of ticking clocks fills the air, offering a timeless echo of the past. This is the world of Bala Muhammad, affectionately known as Baba Bala, a man who has spent over five decades repairing wristwatches and keeping the tradition of horology alive. However, the rapid march of technology threatens to silence the ticking of these clocks and watches, putting Baba Bala’s family legacy at risk.
Why is the Watch Repair Business in Decline?
Bala Muhammad’s watch-repair shop is a relic in its own right, nestled among building material suppliers on one of Kaduna’s busiest streets. It’s filled with numerous clocks hanging on the walls and small tables stacked with tools and watches awaiting repairs. Until just a few years ago, this tiny shop had a steady stream of customers, many of whom came in to get their wristwatches fixed or to replace a dead battery.
“There were times I got more than 100 wristwatch-repair jobs in a day,” says Baba Bala, his voice tinged with nostalgia. “It was a busy place back then.”
Yet, in recent years, foot traffic to the shop has significantly dwindled. “Some days, there are zero customers,” he laments. The cause? The rise of smartphones. “Phones and technology have taken away the only job I know, and it makes me very sad,” he adds, noting that many people now rely on their mobile phones to check the time rather than wearing a wristwatch.
The decline of the watch repair trade in Kaduna mirrors a broader trend that has swept across Nigeria. As mobile phones have become ubiquitous, traditional timepieces have taken a backseat. Baba Bala reflects, “Watches were once as important as clothes here. People felt lost without one.”
How Did a Family Legacy in Horology Begin?
Despite the challenges he faces today, Baba Bala takes great pride in the heritage of his craft. His skills were passed down from his father, Abdullahi Bala Isah, a renowned horologist who traveled across West Africa, from Senegal to Sierra Leone, fixing timepieces. It was during these travels that Baba Bala’s father honed his craft, a skill that Baba Bala would eventually inherit.
“My father was a popular wristwatch repairer, and his skill took him to many places. He taught me when I was young, and I am proud to have followed in his footsteps,” Baba Bala says with a deep sense of pride. “I built my house and educated my children all from the proceeds of wristwatch repairing.”
Baba Bala started working on watches when he was just 10 years old. “When my fellow students were broke in secondary school, I had money to spend because I was already repairing wristwatches,” he recalls with a smile. His early interest in horology even impressed his teachers. “One of my teachers had issues with his watches and had taken them to several repair shops without success. When he heard about me, I fixed all three of his watches by the next day.”
What Happened to the Watch Repair Scene in Kaduna?
Once, Kaduna had an area dedicated to watch sellers and repairers. “The place has been demolished and is now empty,” Baba Bala sighs. Many of his colleagues have either passed away or abandoned the business altogether. Isa Sani, another watch repairer, closed his shop in 2019 after realizing that the demand for his services had vanished. “Going to my repair shop daily meant sitting down and getting no work,” Sani explains. “That’s why I decided to stop going. I have land now, and my children help me farm. That’s how I get by these days.”
The younger generation doesn’t seem to value watches as much as their elders once did. Faisal Abdulkarim and Yusuf Yusha’u, both 18, have never owned a wristwatch. “I can check the time on my phone whenever I want, and it’s always with me,” says Abdulkarim.
Dr. Umar Abdulmajid, a communications lecturer at Yusuf Maitama University in Kano, believes there may be hope for the future of watch repairs. “Conventional wristwatches are no doubt dying, and with it jobs like wristwatch repairs too. But with the rise of smartwatches, I think they could make a comeback.”
Smartwatches, which do far more than just tell the time, could give the watch-repair industry a second life, according to Abdulmajid. “The fact a smartwatch can do so much more means it could continue to attract people,” he suggests. “Old watch repairers may need to learn how to work with this new technology if they want to stay relevant.”
Why Doesn’t Baba Bala Want to Embrace Smartwatches?
While Baba Bala acknowledges the decline of traditional wristwatches, he is not interested in embracing the world of smartwatches. “This is what I love doing,” he says with passion. “I consider myself a doctor for sick wristwatches.” For him, the mechanical nature of traditional watches holds a special appeal. “I am not getting any younger, but this is my craft. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
Though Baba Bala’s children remain supportive of his profession, they are not all eager to follow in his footsteps. “My eldest daughter helps me with bills when business is slow,” he notes. “And my youngest son, Al-Ameen, has shown interest in learning the craft, but I wouldn’t encourage him to make it his profession. I’m pleased that he wants to be a pilot instead.”
In a way, the younger generation of Bala Muhammad’s family is continuing the tradition of exploration that started with his father’s travels. “In a cockpit, Al-Ameen would be faced with many watch-like dials, not unlike my workshop,” Baba Bala says, a proud smile forming on his face.
Why Does Baba Bala Hold on to Tradition?
Despite the uncertainty that surrounds his business, Baba Bala continues to open his shop every day. “I’m here, even if there’s no one to fix a watch,” he says. His shop still contains forgotten relics—watches left by customers who never returned to collect them. He often listens to Hausa-language programs on his radio for company, a bittersweet soundtrack to the closing of an era.
As the world moves further away from traditional timepieces, Baba Bala holds firm to his craft, refusing to let it slip into obscurity. “This is what I know, what I love,” he says. “I may not have many customers today, but I’ll continue to do what I can to keep this art alive.”
The story of Baba Bala is one of a fading tradition, a reminder of the importance of preserving skills passed down through generations. As technology reshapes the world, some things—like a steady, reassuring tick—are worth holding onto.
