By Sulaiman Hamisu Sani
Bookish Alchemy Creative and Journalistic Writing Fellow, Cohort II, 2025
At dusk, the Kofar Mata Dye Pits reveal themselves slowly. The scent of earth and indigo hangs in the air. Footsteps soften. The noise of Kano recedes. Here, time does not rush forward; it settles. Every stone, worn smooth by centuries of labour, seems to remember the hands that once shaped it.
It was in this quiet space, stained in shades of blue, that we met Haruna Baffa, the secretary of the dye pits. He speaks not just as an administrator, but as a custodian of memory, guiding visitors through the story of one of Nigeria’s oldest surviving traditional industries.
Five centuries of indigo

Founded in 1498 by Muhammad Dabosa, the Kofar Mata Dye Pits, locally known as Marina, have preserved Kano’s indigo-dyeing tradition for more than five hundred years. At their height, the site contained 144 hand-dug pits. Today, 50 remain active, still producing the deep blues that once travelled along historic trade routes within Nigeria and beyond.
Each pit is narrow and deep, measuring three, four, or six metres depending on its age and function. Work here follows a long-established order. Men carry out the dyeing process, known as rini, descending into the pits, while women prepare the fabrics above ground, carefully tying and folding cloth in a process called kulli. The division of labour is as old as the pits themselves.
How the dye is made

Dyeing at Kofar Mata is deliberate and unhurried. Water is first poured into the pit, followed by toka (ash), which is left to soak for three days. Up to 200 kilograms of indigo plant, itacen baba, are then added and allowed to rest for another three days. After this comes katsi (potassium chloride), beginning a fermentation that lasts three more days.
The pit is then covered and left to mature. Over four weeks, the mixture deepens in colour, turning brown in a stage known as makuba. Using a long wooden stirring stick called muciyar tukin baba, artisans mix the dye until it reaches the right balance. After an additional week, it is ready for use.
From a single pit, four shades can be produced, depending on how long the fabric is submerged: a pale white-blue after one hour, navy blue after two hours, dark blue after four hours, and a near-black blue after six hours.
Once prepared, the dye can remain usable for up to a year. Nothing is wasted. The residue, tabo, is burned to produce fresh katsi, while the dye itself is traditionally believed to have medicinal value, including uses in treating acne and sickle cell disease. Sustainability here is not a trend; it is a tradition.
Tradition in a modern world

Today, the Kofar Mata Dye Pits support more than 200 workers and their families. While the pits were once used mainly for hand-woven fabrics, they now adapt to modern textiles, blending innovation with centuries-old techniques without losing their essence.
For Haruna Baffa, preservation goes beyond daily work. He urges young writers and journalists to document traditional crafts like Kofar Mata, arguing that storytelling is essential to cultural survival. With proper government support, he says, heritage sites can drive tourism, preserve identity, and create jobs.
A visit to Kofar Mata is more than a field trip. It is an encounter with Kano’s cultural heart, a reminder that traditions endure not only through practice, but through the stories that keep them alive. As long as the pits continue to produce their deep, enduring blues, and as long as their story is told, Kofar Mata will remain alive.
