Dispossession in Paradise: How Development is Reshaping Lagos’ Historic Fishing Communities

The Human Cost of Urban Transformation in Nigeria’s Commercial Capital

In the shadow of gleaming high-rises that increasingly define Lagos’ ambitious skyline, a crisis of displacement unfolds with little national attention. Community leaders in Makoko, one of Lagos’ oldest fishing settlements, report that waves of evictions conducted under the banner of urban development have rendered thousands of residents homeless, devastating communities that have inhabited these waterfront areas for generations. These forced relocations represent the unseen human cost of Nigeria’s aggressive push toward modernization in its commercial heartland.

“We have lived here for more than a century, fishing these waters and building our homes,” explains Babalola Adewale, a 67-year-old community elder whose family has resided in the area for four generations. “Now they tell us we must leave because Lagos wants to become ‘Africa’s Singapore.'” Adewale’s weathered hands gesture toward the makeshift shelters that have sprung up on the periphery of the neighborhood, where dozens of families have sought temporary refuge after bulldozers demolished their stilted homes with less than 72 hours’ notice. The eviction notices, many residents claim, came without meaningful consultation or adequate compensation plans, leaving entire families with nowhere to go and no means to rebuild their lives elsewhere in one of Africa’s most expensive cities.

Historical Communities Facing Extinction in the Rush for Urban Renewal

The waterfront evictions represent more than just the loss of physical structures—they threaten to erase entire ways of life that have defined Lagos’ coastal identity since before colonial times. These fishing communities, with their specialized knowledge of local marine ecosystems and time-honored fishing techniques, form a living cultural heritage that stands in stark contrast to the ultra-modern vision being pursued by developers and government officials. Researchers from the University of Lagos have documented how these settlements once served as crucial trading ports that connected inland communities with coastal commerce, creating economic networks that predated the modern Nigerian state. “What we’re witnessing is not merely displacement but the systematic erasure of indigenous knowledge systems and community structures that have sustained these populations for centuries,” notes Dr. Funmilayo Adebiyi, an urban anthropologist who has studied Lagos’ waterfront communities for over two decades.

The government’s position has remained largely unchanged despite growing criticism from human rights organizations. Officials from the Lagos State Ministry of Physical Planning and Urban Development maintain that these settlements represent environmental and health hazards, pointing to inadequate sanitation infrastructure and the vulnerability of these low-lying areas to flooding exacerbated by climate change. “We cannot allow unplanned developments to undermine our vision for a resilient, world-class metropolis,” states Commissioner Ibrahim Okunola. “The waterfront regeneration projects will ultimately benefit all Lagosians through improved infrastructure, flood control, and economic opportunities.” Critics, however, question whether these benefits will extend to the displaced fishing communities or simply create exclusive enclaves for wealthy investors and international businesses seeking prime waterfront real estate in one of Africa’s fastest-growing economies.

Development Paradox: Progress for Whom?

The situation in Lagos highlights a fundamental tension in urban development across rapidly expanding African cities: the question of who benefits from modernization and who bears its costs. International development experts have increasingly questioned the sustainability of urban renewal projects that fail to incorporate the needs and rights of existing communities. “What we’re seeing in Lagos reflects a broader pattern across the Global South where ‘development’ often becomes a euphemism for displacement,” explains Sophia Nwanko, regional director for Urban Equity International, a non-governmental organization documenting forced evictions worldwide. “The fundamental issue isn’t whether cities should develop, but whether that development can happen in ways that protect vulnerable communities rather than simply removing them from the equation.”

The consequences of these evictions extend far beyond housing. When fishing families lose access to the waterfront, they also lose their livelihoods. Mohammed Ibrahim, who has fished Lagos Lagoon for three decades, now travels two hours each way to reach fishing grounds he once accessed by simply stepping outside his front door. “The cost of transportation eats whatever little profit I make,” he explains, standing beside his weathered wooden canoe. “My children have had to drop out of school because I can no longer afford the fees.” Health workers report increasing cases of stress-related illnesses, malnutrition, and waterborne diseases among displaced communities now living in overcrowded conditions without access to clean water or sanitation facilities. Local schools in areas surrounding eviction zones report declining attendance as families relocate or children are forced to work to supplement falling household incomes.

Community Resistance and the Search for Sustainable Solutions

Faced with existential threats, these waterfront communities have not remained passive. Grassroots organizations like the Lagos Waterfront Coalition have emerged to coordinate legal challenges to eviction orders, document human rights violations, and propose alternative development models that could accommodate both modernization goals and the preservation of historic communities. “We aren’t against development,” clarifies Oluwaseun Adegoke, the coalition’s coordinator. “We’re against development that treats us as obstacles rather than stakeholders.” The coalition has partnered with progressive urban planners to create alternative proposals that would upgrade infrastructure and housing conditions while preserving the spatial relationships and economic networks that sustain these fishing communities.

Some success stories offer potential models for more inclusive approaches. In Iwaya, another waterfront community that faced eviction notices in 2019, a partnership between community leaders, architectural collectives, and international NGOs resulted in an in-situ upgrading project that improved housing conditions, installed solar-powered water purification systems, and established a community-managed waste recycling program—all without displacing residents. “What happened in Iwaya demonstrates that development and preservation aren’t mutually exclusive,” notes Architect Chinedu Okafor, who helped design the project. “When we engage communities as partners rather than problems, we often discover solutions that are more sustainable, more cost-effective, and more humane than wholesale clearance.”

Toward an Inclusive Vision of Urban Development

As Lagos continues its ambitious journey toward becoming a global megacity, the fate of its waterfront communities remains uncertain. International attention has begun to focus on the issue, with the United Nations Special Rapporteur on Adequate Housing expressing concern about forced evictions and calling on Nigerian authorities to implement development plans that respect human rights and indigenous claims to land. Meanwhile, a growing coalition of civil society organizations, academic institutions, and community representatives are advocating for legislation that would provide stronger protections against forced evictions and establish clear protocols for consultation and compensation when relocation is unavoidable.

For residents like Adewale, these policy discussions feel increasingly distant from the immediate reality of dispossession. “They talk about the Lagos of tomorrow, but we are the Lagos of today and yesterday,” he reflects, looking out over waters where his ancestors have fished for generations. “A city that destroys its own history to build its future will end up with neither.” As Nigeria’s commercial capital continues its relentless growth, the question remains whether it can find ways to embrace modernization without sacrificing the diverse communities and cultural traditions that have long made Lagos not just a place of commerce but a vibrant home to millions. The answer may determine whether Lagos becomes merely another generic global city or develops into something more authentic—a metropolis that honors its past while building toward an inclusive future where development truly benefits all of its citizens, including those who have called its waters home for generations.