Ticking is the dominant sound inside Bala Muhammad’s small watch repair shop, tucked away on a busy street in the northern Nigerian city of Kaduna.
It’s like a time capsule from another era, with countless clocks hanging on the walls and a small table at the entrance filled with repair tools and clocks in various states.
His store is located on one of Kaduna’s busiest shopping streets, sandwiched between building material suppliers.
Until a few years ago, we had a steady stream of customers coming in to repair their watches or install new batteries.
The 68-year-old, popularly known as Baba Bala, told the BBC: “There were times when there were more than 100 watch repair jobs a day.”
But he worries that the skills his father taught him and his brother will be lost.
“There are days when we don’t have any customers,” he said, criticizing people who use their phones to check when transactions are slowing down.
“Telephones and technology have taken away the only job I’ve ever known, and that makes me very sad.”
However, for over 50 years, the watch boom enabled the family to live a prosperous life.
“I used the proceeds from my watch repairs to build a house and educate my children,” he says.
His father would travel across West Africa for six months at a time, from Senegal to Sierra Leone, fixing watches.
At one time, Baba Bala was based in the capital, Abuja, home to much of the country’s elite, and lived a wealthy life tending to the watches of wealthy people.
He considers his best customers to be top officials of the state-owned oil company, the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC).
Some had Rolex watches. Prices vary widely, but the average is around $10,000 (£8,000).
He says the watch is beautiful and conveys his love for all Swiss watches. He owns another famous Swiss brand, Longines, which he only takes off when he sleeps.
“If I go out and forget it, I have to go back. I would never have a home without it. That’s how important it is to me.”
His store houses a beautiful, large-scale framed photo of his father, Abdullahi Bala Isah, looking up from his workbench a few years before his death in 1988.
Isah was a renowned horologist and his contacts in Freetown and Dakar called him to travel when he had enough watches to look after.
He was also scheduled to make regular visits to Ibadan, a large city and literary center in southwestern Nigeria and home to Nigeria’s first university.
Baba Bala said no one in his family knows where his father learned his expertise. But that would have been during British colonial rule.
He was born in 1960, four years before Nigeria gained independence.
“My father was a popular watch repairman and his skills took him to many places. He taught me when I was young and I am proud to have followed in his footsteps.”
At the age of 10, Baba Bala began to take a keen interest in understanding the intricacies of what the wheels and levers inside a clock do, and as he got older, he was delighted to discover that it was also a good source of pocket money. I did it.
“When my friends went bankrupt in middle school, I was already repairing watches, so I had money to spend at the time.”
He remembers impressing one of his teachers with his skills. “He had a problem with some of his watches, so he took them to several places and they didn’t work. When he heard about me, I was able to fix all three watches. Just wait until the next day.”
At one time in Nigeria, watches were considered as important as clothes and many people felt lost without them.
In Kaduna, many watch sellers and repairers had dedicated spaces to set up their businesses.
“The place has been demolished and is now empty,” Baba Bala said sadly, adding that most of his colleagues were either dead or had given up the business.
One of those who admitted defeat was Isa Sani.
“Going to the repair shop every day meant I couldn’t sit down and work, so I decided not to go to the repair shop in 2019,” the 65-year-old told the BBC.
“I have land and my children help me farm on it. That’s how I survive these days.”
“I don’t think wristwatches will ever come back,” he laments.
Young people working at the building materials shop next to Baba Bala agree.
Faisal Abdulkarim and Yusuf Yusha’u, both 18, have never owned a watch because they have never felt the need for one.
“I can check the time on my phone whenever I want and it’s always with me,” one person said.
Dr. Umar Abdulmajid, a lecturer in communication at Yusuf Maitama University in Kano, believes things can change.
“Traditional wristwatches are definitely dying, and it’s kind of like wristwatch repair, but I think smartwatches can make a comeback.
“The fact that smartwatches can do more than just show the time means they will continue to capture people’s attention.”
He suggested that old watch repairmen learn how to handle this new technology. “Unless you move in time to fall behind.”
But Baba Bala, who returned to Kaduna from Abuja about 20 years ago to set up his own shop, said this did not interest him as he wanted to be closer to his growing family.
“This is what I love to do. I consider myself a doctor for sick watches. And besides, I’m not getting any younger.”
His close-knit family is loyal to his profession. His wife and his five children all wear watches and frequently stop by the store to visit him. Some of the watches on display there are forgotten relics of old customers.
“Some people brought them back years ago and never brought them back,” he says.
But Baba Bala hasn’t given up and is still open every day. His eldest daughter, who runs a successful clothing boutique nearby, helps him with the bills when his business is slow.
Baba Bala says that without the busy chatter and banter of customers, he now often listens to the radio with friends and enjoys listening to Hausa-language programs on the BBC World Service.
In the afternoon, his youngest son, Al-Ameen, came to visit him after school. Of his children, he was the only son to show interest in learning the craft of watch repair. However, he did not encourage him to pursue it as a career.
He is delighted that his 12-year-old has said he wants to be a pilot, continuing the family tradition of seeing more of the world.
In the cockpit, he is faced with numerous clock-like dials, not unlike his father’s workshop.