The Nigerian watch workshop lost in time in Kaduna

Ticking is the predominant sound in Bala Muhammad's small watch workshop, tucked away on a busy street in the northern Nigerian city of Kaduna.

It's like a time capsule from another era with multiple clocks hanging on the wall and small tables at the entrance filled with his tools and clocks in various states of repair.

His shop is on one of Kaduna's busiest commercial streets – sandwiched between building material suppliers.

Until a few years ago, he had a steady stream of customers stopping by to get their watches fixed or a new battery put in.

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

But he worries that his skills – taught to him and his brother by their father – will disappear.

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

“Phones and technology have taken away the only job I've ever known, and that makes me very sad.”

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

“I built my house and educated my children from the proceeds of repairing wristwatches,” he says.

His father would travel all over West Africa for six months at a time – from Senegal to Sierra Leone – repairing clocks.

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

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

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

He says they are beautiful – and encapsulates his love for 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 for it. I won't be without it – it's that important to me.”

In his shop, he keeps a beautiful large framed photograph of his father, Abdullahi Bala Issah, taken looking up from his desk a few years before his death in 1988.

Issa was a famous horologist and his contacts in Freetown and Dakar called him to take a trip when they had enough watches for him to look after.

He will also make regular visits to Ibadan, a metropolis 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 skills – but it would have been during British colonial rule.

He himself was born four years before Nigeria's independence in 1960.

“My father was a popular watchmaker and his skills took him to many places. He taught me when I was young and I'm proud to have followed in his footsteps.”

Baba Bala became very interested in understanding the ins and outs of what the wheels and levers in a clock did when he was 10 – and was happy to discover that as he got older it became a good source of pocket money.

“When my classmates were broke in middle school, then I had money to spend because I was already fixing wristwatches.”

He recalls that his skills even impressed one of his teachers: “He was having trouble with some of his wristwatches and had taken them to several places and they couldn't make them. When he was told about me, I managed to fix all three watches by the next day.”

At one point, watches were considered as important as clothes in Nigeria and many people felt lost without watches.

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

“The place was destroyed and now it's empty,” Baba Bala says sadly, adding that most of his colleagues are either dead or out of business.

One of those who recognized the victory was Issa Sani.

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

“I have land and my children help me till it – that's how I manage these days.”

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

The youths working in the hardware stores next to Baba Bala agree.

Faisal Abdulkarim and Yusuf Youshaw, both 18 years old, have never owned watches as they never saw a need for them.

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

Dr. Umar Abdulmajid, a lecturer in communication at the Yusuf Maitama University in Kano, believes things may be about to change.

“Conventional wristwatches are undoubtedly dying, and with them professions like wristwatch repair, but with the smartwatch I think they could 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 move with the times, you'll be left behind.”

But Baba Bala, who moved back 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 doesn't care.

“It's what I love to do, I consider myself a doctor for sick wristwatches – and I'm not getting any younger.”

His tight-knit family remains true to his profession – his wife and all five of his children wear watches and often stop by to visit him in the shop, where some of the watches on display are forgotten relics from old customers.

“Some brought them years ago and didn't come back for them,” he says.

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

Without much to occupy him – or the chatter and gossip of his customers, Baba Bala says he now often listens to his radio for company, enjoying Hausa language programs on the BBC World Service.

In the afternoon, his youngest son, Al-Ameen, comes to visit after school – the only one of his children interested in learning the art of clock repair. But he would not encourage him to take it up as a profession.

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

In the cockpit, he would be faced with many clock-like dials – not unlike his father's workshop.