UIC Foundation's Water Checks in Kebbi: Visits Happening, But Where's the Fix?

By Kebbi Daily News on Sat Oct 18 2025

UIC FoundationWater Kebbi

Gwandu, Kebbi State – A couple months back, in August, the UIC Foundation's Kebbi team showed up in Gwandu Local Government Area for a look at a beat-up community well. They sat down with local leaders, took notes on the problems, and laid out a basic plan to get it fixed. The goal's straightforward: get families reliable, clean water without the hassle. Not long before that, they were in Shiyar Huchi village in Kalgo LGA, checking out a broken hand pump and talking up their push for safe drinking water everywhere. Their social media posts wrapped it up with some water drop emojis and handshakes—💧🤝—saying we're in this together to make clean water happen.

Fast forward to now, October, and things are quiet on the follow-through. No updates about crews rolling in to drill or pumps starting to work. Instead, the feed's full of other stuff: orphanage visits for Independence Day, a casual soccer game at Kainuwa Sports Center, iftar meals during Ramadan. It's all good community work, but in Kebbi, where most folks are dealing with bad water sources, these site visits come off like a quick hello without the heavy lifting. Over two-thirds of households here pull from sketchy spots, and it's leaving people frustrated—hoping for real changes, not just more photos.

UIC Foundation—full name Ummaty International Charity—has been active in Kebbi at least since early this year. Their co-founder Haruna Shayau posts a lot about it: free haircuts and shaves for 80 guys ahead of Sallah, handing out clothes in Tungar Buzu to help folks out, or running awareness campaigns like "Guard the Source" in Bunza to keep wells from getting polluted. The Kebbi branch is part of a bigger national setup, mixing faith-based help with everyday needs, like cleaning up graveyards in Ilela Yari for ongoing good deeds. Water stuff fits right in, especially since it ties to health and fairness—women and kids end up doing most of the fetching.

Those August trips made sense at the time. In Gwandu, which is mostly farmers and herders up against Sokoto State, they zeroed in on a borehole that's been acting up since last year's floods clogged it with mud. People there have to walk to far-off streams that aren't exactly clean, mixed with animal stuff. Village head Malam Ibrahim said over the phone, "The UIC crew came, took measurements, said they'd get parts by September. We told them our issues, but it's still not running." In Kalgo's Shiyar Huchi, the hand pump for about 500 people in Gandu Ward quit over a year ago, lever all rusted out. The visit lined up with Youth Day planning, getting volunteers hyped for a "Youth for Water" repair event. They asked for donations through a UBA account (1026073151) and gave out a contact number (08030686891).

But September came and went, and the pump's still offline. No big reveal posts, no pics of water flowing. Shayau's updates jumped to orphanage fun and new badges for their education group. It's a common thing for groups like this in Nigeria—social media gets the buzz going, posts rack up likes (around 500 each), but the actual work hits snags. Especially this year, with Kebbi's water problems blowing up in the news: Cholera hit 200 cases by April in Kebbi and nearby Katsina, all from dirty sources. NiHSA dropped a warning in October about groundwater loaded with heavy metals and lead, plus germs causing kidney issues and stomach bugs. In spots like Kalgo and Gwandu, 70% of pumps crap out in under two years, based on a 2023 Green Habitat Initiative check across 10 Kebbi areas.

Kebbi's water shortage is straightforward but brutal. The state's a big player in rice and sorghum, pulling in 1.5 million tons a year, but it's smack in the Sokoto Basin where rivers like the Gari flood one minute and dry up the next. This year's La Niña rains wrecked fields in Zuru and Fakai, but the dry patches afterward drained what's underground. Cut that with 15% less trees since 2015—for firewood and grazing—and the water just runs off fast, messing up what's left. UNICEF highlighted local fixers like Haruna Sadiq in Kebbi who patch pumps on the cheap, but one guy can't cover a whole state. Country-wide, rural water access is at 70% per WHO, but Kebbi's countryside is closer to 40%, driving those cholera numbers—68% of homes without good taps, says NBS from April.

The government's trying, but it's hit or miss. Governor Nasir Idris okayed ₦2 billion in June for fixing up solar boreholes, swapping out power ones that keep failing in places like Yauri and Argungu. By August, they got 11 motorized ones going in Yauri, helping 5,000 people. NEMA threw in water kits with food aid for flood folks in Sakaba and Danko-Wasagu last month. But rollout's slow: Just 60% of national WASH money out by end of Q3, per Budget Office info, stuck in paperwork. USAID's I-WASH fixed up health centers in Argungu and Kalgo back in 2023, but keeping them going? That's on outfits like UIC to jump in.

Looking at UIC's approach, they've got wins: The March clothes giveaway in Tungar Buzu covered a bunch of people; April radio spots on meningitis via Vision FM, run by member Bashar Bello Gwandu, got the word out wide. Ramadan meals and Sallah grooming build real connections, with about 200 volunteers on deck. Water's a natural fit—it's like that ongoing charity thing in Islam, a well that keeps giving. But the holdup from check to fix? It points to a bigger issue for NGOs here: Posts go viral, but tools and timelines lag. X talk on #KebbiWater is light, but a September post summed it up: "Assessments all over, no taps yet—when do we get a drink?"

For women in Shiyar Huchi, like 45-year-old Amina Yusuf with her two little kids in a basic mud house, the delay sucks. "The young UIC folks showed up with cameras, checked the pump, said August 12," she told me on the phone, sounding beat. "Youth Day's gone, October's here. We boil water from ponds, hope no one gets sick." In Gwandu, the elders back Malam Ibrahim: "Plans are talk; we need the water." The fallout? Cholera took 50 lives in Kebbi by mid-year, per SolaceBase; bad wells mean kids not growing right long-term. Herders on Kalgo's edges, already watching for bandits, pull from snail-filled streams that spread bilharzia. On the money side, a full day fetching costs ₦1,000 in missed work, piling on top of 72% poverty rates.

How to turn it around? UIC could stream the repairs live, team up with guys like Sadiq for hands-on work—make visits lead to quick wins. Link with KSADP's ₦2 billion for tough pumps that handle floods, or copy USAID's I-WASH that got Etene's pump running in Kalgo. Nationally, back NiHSA alerts with ₦50 billion for WASH checks, pulling underperformers like those old 1970s boreholes sitting idle. In Kebbi, hook into Idris's solar plan: Set up joint groups in Gwandu and Kalgo for regular upkeep, with apps to track pump status like NEMA's flood warnings. Get locals in—train women's groups to handle fixes, like WaterAid's 2019 solar setup in Wasagu LGA. It keeps things going and gives power back.

Kebbi's families aren't living on ifs. Those August stops put a light on the mess and got some attention. Time to grab the tools. Here, where water means survival, talk only goes so far—getting it done is what counts. Till then, Shiyar Huchi and Gwandu are hanging in, buckets waiting.