The ticking sound is the dominant sound inside Bala Mohammed’s small watch repair shop, located on a busy street in the northern Nigerian city of Kaduna.
It’s like a time capsule from a different era with many clocks hanging on the wall and small tables at the entrance filled with his tools and clocks in various states of repair.
His store is located on one of the busiest shopping streets in Kaduna, nestled among building material suppliers.
Until a few years ago, he had a steady stream of customers coming in to have their watches repaired or a new battery installed.
The 68-year-old, known as Baba Bala, told the BBC: “There were times when I would get more than 100 watch repair jobs a day.”
But he worries that his skills – taught to him and his brother by their father – will become extinct.
“Some days there aren’t any customers,” he says, blaming people who use their cell phones to check when his business is down.
“Phones and technology have taken away the only job I know, and it makes me very sad.”
But for more than 50 years, the watch boom has allowed the family to earn a good living.
“I built my house and educated my children all with the proceeds from repairing watches,” he says.
His father would travel around West Africa for six months at a time – from Senegal to Sierra Leone – repairing watches.
At one point, Baba Bala was based in the capital, Abuja, where much of the country’s elite lived – and was making a good living by looking after the watches of the wealthy.
He believes his best clients are senior officials at the state-owned Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC).
Some had Rolex watches – their price can vary greatly but the average cost of one is around $10,000 (£8,000).
He says it’s beautiful – and sums up his love of all Swiss watches. He himself owns Longines, another prestigious Swiss brand, which he only takes off when he sleeps.
“If I leave my house and forget it, I have to go back to it. I won’t be without it – that’s how important it is to me.”
In his shop, he keeps a beautiful, large photo of his father, Abdullahi Bala Issa, which he took as he looked up from his work bench a few years before his death in 1988.
Issa was a famous watchmaker, and contacts in Freetown and Dakar would call him for a trip when they had enough watches for him to take care of.
He also made regular visits to Ibadan, a city in southwestern Nigeria, a literary center and home to the country’s first university.
Baba Bala says no one in the family knows where his father learned his expertise, but it could have been at the time of British colonial rule.
He himself was born four years before Nigeria’s independence in 1960.
“My father was a famous watch repairman and his skill took him many places. He taught me when I was young and I am proud to have followed in his footsteps.”
Baba Bala began taking a keen interest in understanding the intricacies of what the wheels and levers did inside a watch 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 fellow students were broke in high school, I had money to spend at the time because I was already repairing watches.”
He recalls that his skill impressed one of his teachers: “He had problems with some of his watches and took them to several places and they couldn’t do them. When he told me about me, I was able to fix all three watches.” Hours the next day.”
At one point, watches were seen as important as clothing in Nigeria, and many people felt lost without them.
Kaduna used to have a designated area where many watch sellers and repairmen set up their businesses.
“The place was demolished and is now empty,” says Baba Bala sadly, adding that most of his colleagues have either died or stopped working.
Issa Sani was one of those who admitted defeat.
The 65-year-old told the BBC: “Going to my repair shop every day means sitting and not getting work, which is why I decided to stop going in 2019.”
“I have land and my children help me farm it – this is how I can make a living these days.”
“I don’t think wristwatches will ever come back,” he laments.
The young people who work in the building supplies stores next to Baba Bala agree with him.
Faisal Abdel Karim and Youssef Yousha, both 18, have never owned watches because they never felt the need for them.
“I can check the time on my phone whenever I want, and it’s always with me,” one said.
Dr Omar Abdul Majeed, a communications lecturer at Yusuf Maitama University in Kano, believes things may be changing.
“There is no doubt that traditional watches are on the way out, and with them jobs like watch repair as well, but with the smartwatch, I believe they can make a comeback.
“The fact that a smartwatch can do more than just show the time means it can continue to attract people.”
He suggests repairers of vintage watches should learn how to deal with this new technology: “If you don’t move with the times you’re falling 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 that doesn’t interest him.
“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 craft, with his wife and all five children wearing watches, and often coming to visit him in the store, where some of the watches on display are forgotten relics of old customers.
“Some people brought it many years ago and never brought it back,” he says.
But Baba Bala refuses to give up and still opens his doors every day – and his eldest daughter, who runs a successful clothing store nearby, helps him pay the bills when business is slow.
Without much to keep him busy – or the chatter and gossip among his clients, Baba Bala says he now listens more often to his company’s radio, and enjoys Hausa language programs on the BBC World Service.
In the afternoon, his youngest son, Al-Amin, comes to visit him after school – the only one of his children who has shown interest in learning the art of watch repair. But he did not encourage him to take it as a career.
He’s glad 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 will encounter several clock-like dials – not unlike his father’s workshop.
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2024-12-27 00:22:00