Above: In 2019, a man cast a net on a boat in the Makoko seaside community a few miles from the Ago-Egun Bariga community in Lagos Lagoon, Nigeria. Photo: Yasuyoshi Chiba/AFP via Getty Images
Welcome to the Undark podcast. In this episode, together with freelance journalist Maggie Andresen and podcast host Lydia Chain discuss the profound social, economic and environmental consequences of sand digging in Lagos, Nigeria.
The following is a complete transcript of the podcast, slightly edited for clarity. You can also subscribe to The Undark Podcast on Apple Podcasts, TuneIn or Spotify.
Maggie Andresen: At 5:30 in the morning, there was still water in the Lagos Lagoon on the fringe of Nigeria's most populous city. A group of fishermen chatted on a small engine boat. They used a traditional technique called Acadja to submerge the branches to attract and lure fish, and use the light from their mobile phones to eliminate darkness.
When the sun fell from the water, several boats returned to the shore-passing two huge dredgers, which stirred the soil as they collected sand from the bottom of the lagoon. The purpose of the dredger is to remove the accumulated sand that is blocking traffic on the pier, but the agitated silt must land somewhere. This ends up in the middle of the fishermen’s navigation channel. In some places, the water is so shallow that the fishermen had to turn off the boat's motor and navigate the lagoon with a large wooden stick. These fishermen live in Ago-Egun Bariga, a small fishing community on the mainland coast of Lagos, which has been here since Nigeria's independence from the United Kingdom in 1960. But this enduring community has been destroyed by the dredgers in the lagoon, which have replaced enough sand to create 73 acres of land in the adjacent swamp area for tourism reconstruction projects.
Samuel Denapo: These dredging activities, this dredging vessel, it caused a lot of problems.
Maggie Andresen: That's Samuel Denapo, a fisherman who has been sailing in these waters since he was a child.
Samuel De Napo: Because after we set up this fish trap, the dredger will come, they will put the pipe there, and they will start filling everything with sand. Once they did this, they would destroy the fish trap. And all the fish we expect to catch, we will never see them again. So except for the one in the way-they can destroy our fish trap, the second one blocks our way.
Lydia Chain: This is the Undark podcast. This is Lydia Chain. Many coastal cities around the world are struggling to find space to grow with their population, especially when coastline erosion and sea levels begin to rise. Some cities are responding by creating space, creating more foundations by filling wetlands or building artificial islands. In Lagos, Nigeria, the ecological and social impact of such projects is far-reaching-fragile communities strive to balance development opportunities with protecting lifestyles, sometimes even taking their needs into full consideration.
Maggie Andresen has a story.
Maggie Andresen: The city of Lagos consists of the coastal mainland and several low-lying islands, connected by bridges. This megacity has a population of at least 13 million people, and it's still increasing-but it is estimated that its population is much higher. It is estimated that the security threats in other parts of Nigeria and the exploration of economic opportunities in the region will bring more than 2,000 new residents every day—a coveted living space. Walking on almost any street, you can find capital letters warning scammers and land grabbers written on the walls of buildings: "This house is not for sale." The city's growing population and limited space have prompted it. Those with economic privileges invest not only in land ownership, but also in land construction. [Fade out traffic/market sounds in Lagos]. Building land requires a lot of sand, which is the second most consumed natural resource in the world after water. In Lagos, sand comes from the bottom of the lagoon and the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. After extraction, the marsh wetland is filled with sand, laying a solid foundation for the new construction.
Alade Adeleke: I need sand every day. People who make money earn thousands of dollars from sand...and the coast is there for them to develop. So they went to the powerful people in the government, and they got the license. Even if the community makes noise, they are not worried. Unfortunately, those who are engaged in dredging work do not live where they are dredging. This is what I call remote power supply.
Maggie Andresen: My name is Alade Adeleke. She is a researcher who focuses on ecosystems, biodiversity and the role of companies in sustainable development. He is the former director of the Nigeria Conservation Foundation, an environmental non-governmental organization, and currently leads a project commissioned by the Lagos State Government to assess the status of its coastal wetlands and evaluate current ecosystem policies. This includes measuring the impact of dredging and other human activities on these environments.
Alade Adeleke: The environment has always been used by people who don't really value it... The community really, they stand on the acceptance side. They are there anywhere in the world, and you bring your problems to them. They didn't really create the problems they encountered. The dredging is done by the rich. The poor do not dig mud.
Maggie Andresen: Dredging can remove sand from the bottom of a body of water, but it does not make the water generally deeper. This process stirred up the silt and dragged the sand around, creating new shallow water areas and sandbanks. According to the United Nations Environment Programme, it is considered to be one of the lowest enforcement methods for regional and national extraction agreements on a global scale. In Lagos, dredging and sand mining require federal and state permits and authorizations, but official channels can easily be evaded and illegal mining can be tolerated. Although regulations governing sand mining for commercial purposes prevent disturbance and blockage of waterways, this is still the real life of the residents of Ago-Egun Bariga. Inadequate or unimplemented policies mean that when environmental consequences start to increase, people living in communities where the dredging is carried out do not have much legal recourse.
Alade Adeleke: It disrupted coastal ecosystems, water systems have changed, and fisheries have been affected. Many things happen because you bring oil and gas into the water system when you are dredging equipment, so you will be contaminated. You have a lot of things. You have changed the life of the dredging community.
Maggie Andresen: Before Lagos was colonized by the British, the area was lush wetlands and mangroves that thrived in salty or brackish water and supported a diverse flora and fauna ecosystem. From their first interaction with Lagos, the imperialists could not tolerate this marsh coastal settlement. A pessimistic description by a British businessman in 1853 called the city "a dirty, disgusting, and savage place", showing people's apparent ignorance of the ecological importance of coastal forests and the profound racist spirit that defines colonial relations.
In order to consolidate control of the area and reduce malaria, the imperial government started a large-scale land reclamation campaign, which included a racist policy to prevent the Lagosians from profiting from their land. This pitted colonial overseers against the indigenous peoples who had long lived on marshes and creeks.
Tunji Bello: For us in Lagos, we have a lot of wetlands, they are a kind of desirability.
Maggie Andresen: That's Tunji Bello, Lagos State Commissioner for Environment and Water Resources.
Tunji Bello: During the colonial rule, they can treat them as swamps and make them feel uneasy. But for us, they are natural, they are not considered swamps or disturbing things, so... you go to Victoria Island, you go to Ikoy, and there are a few others, they It used to be a wetland in those days...and the masters of those days in the colonies, etc., when they were looking for a noble area to settle...Today, they are the most expensive place in Lagos.
Maggie Andresen: The history of the destruction of the Lagos wetland is intertwined with its colonial history, but this does not mean that it stopped after Nigeria's independence. As the city expanded, it continued to fill wetlands and mangroves with sand. Although Nigeria still has the most mangrove forests on the African continent, they are rapidly being destroyed. These losses may have a series of negative effects on Nigerians.
Alade Adeleke: All you see in the back are mangrove forests, with mangrove forests on the left and right. But this is what urbanization can do. Lagos should plan to preserve the current status of these mangroves in the east.
Maggie Andresen: That was the scene near one of the wetland research sites by Alade Adeleke.
Alade Adeleke: Wetlands are a very, very important ecosystem in Nigeria.
Maggie Andresen: He described them as sponges: sucking in dirty water and draining clean water.
Alade Adeleke: So when you lose mangroves, you lose the opportunity to breed fish... Keeping mangroves intact and well-managed coastal wetlands are additional measures to promote food, food security and reduce the problem of poverty.
Maggie Andresen: The loss of mangroves in Lagos is mainly caused by large-scale urban development land reclamation projects-sand dug from the lagoon will eventually flow here. These projects range from luxurious man-made enclaves like Banana Island (where Nigeria’s wealthiest people live) to coastal expansion, some of which are designed to protect eroded coastlines. However, many of these projects are isolated from anyone outside the highest income range.
Taibat Lawanson: So regarding those man-made islands, I am totally opposed to them. I think they will cause more problems than the solutions they claim to try to solve.
Maggie Andresen: That's Taibat Lawanson. She teaches urban planning and governance at Lagos University and is the co-director of the University's Center for Housing and Sustainable Development. According to Lawanson, these projects tend to further deepen existing inequalities in urban infrastructure, even if their supporters claim that they increase economic opportunities.
Taibat Lawanson: I see what is happening is that very wealthy people want to stay away from the chaos of the city you know or the chaos that is considered, so take a bit of, you know, away from other people. So it has no effect on social cohesion. You know, it just further separates the rich from the poor.
Maggie Andresen: Nearly three-quarters of Lagosians live in informal settlements and slum areas, but Lawanson said these voices are often ignored in formal urban planning. Thanks to the efforts of grassroots records, it is easy to track urban expansion by drawing charts of forced evictions and slum demolition. One of the most notorious incidents was the violent migration of more than 300,000 people from the Maroko slum in 1990. Maroko was declared destructive by the military government at the time, because settlements below sea level posed a danger to its residents. But after it was destroyed by "overriding public interest," the area was full of sand, and former residents were not allowed to return. Today, it owns some of the most expensive real estate in the city.
The recent high-profile evictions of the seaside communities Otodo Gbame and Tarkwa Bay reflect this pattern. The so-called informal communities are destroyed, and the priority is given to creating spaces that are considered legal and planned. But in Lagos, the line between formal and informal has become blurred-smoother than static.
Taibat Lawanson: But it is also a mostly informal city, mainly because people have to respond to deficits...so they have to create a way of living.
Maggie Andresen: Lawanson said that in Lagos, informality is often criminalized, and the power to determine the legitimacy of urban space is often at the core of development disputes. On a larger scale, this power determines what the public interest means, which does not always include the needs of the urban poor.
Taibat Lawanson: The responsibility of the people who made these decisions is to reflect before making these decisions. In other words, is it in the public interest? What is the impact on society, economy and environment? I think more fundamentally, who benefits? This is the real problem of Lagos development or redevelopment.
Maggie Andresen: Back to Ago-Egun Bariga, this issue is at the core of the development debate.
Zannu Safir: My name is Zannu Safir. I am 13 years old now. But I used to go to school. Now when the water dies, there are no schools anymore. My mom and dad have no money to send me to school, which is why I no longer go to school.
Maggie Andresen: Saphire's home was demolished in 2011, and all other houses in the community were built on wooden piles on the water. Today, most houses near the Ago-Egun Bariga Lagoon are built on compacted garbage, exposing residents to a greater risk of flooding. The expulsion is of great significance to Safir's family. The family was displaced and her uncle fell ill. After they resettled in another house, the dredging work started to have problems again.
Celestine Agajun: Dredging prevented my husband from going to the river. If my husband doesn't go fishing, I can't...sell fish. The profits I earn there are used to support my family. But my husband won't go... If I can't get the money, the kids-what will they eat?
Maggie Andresen: Here, people rely almost entirely on fishing for their livelihoods. When dredging began near the Lagos Lagoon four years ago, it was difficult to fish fast enough to make a living. Since the muddy boats were in place earlier in the day, the time spent on the water was reduced, thereby reducing the time spent fishing.
Sangoloke Moses: So the impact of dredging activities is affecting us, and I think it will affect the future of our children. Because our parents are not educated, because they are fishermen. We want children to be educated...so when they start school, these children start school, and we don't want them to stop. But the dredging activity came and stopped. So this causes students to drop out...We are having trouble feeding our children. We have no hope of letting our children receive an education.
Maggie Andresen: Sangoloke Moses is the chairman of the Ago-Egun Community Development Association and the coordinator of the grassroots online community anti-displacement coalition. He works as a community legal assistant at the Justice and Empowerment Initiatives, a non-profit legal aid organization. Sangoloke grew up in Ago-Egun Bariga and advocates against dredging projects that destroy his community.
Sangoloke Moses: Our livelihoods are completely affected, because the main livelihood is fishing, and dredging affects us no longer fishing.
Maggie Andresen: The problems with this small fishing area started from May to June 2017, when the neighboring area-called Oworonshoki-began to rebuild. The plan is to rename the area as a tourist destination, which requires 73 acres of land to achieve. The first step is dredging, first creating material for filling sand, and then keeping the waterway open for traffic at the terminal. Construction projects in Nigeria should undergo an environmental impact assessment or EIA to determine the potential social and ecological consequences of the proposed development. The original 1992 law stipulated that the hearings were held "in a way to provide the public with an opportunity to participate in the evaluation." But 25 years later, just a stone's throw away from Ago Egun Bariga, dredging and sand filling began, as if this law did not exist at all. The project has never conducted an environmental impact assessment. The residents of Ago Egun Bariga have never had the opportunity to express their concerns publicly.
Sangoloke: At the beginning of the project, we wrote a letter to the company we were working at. This company was Westminster.
Maggie Andresen: Nigeria Westminster Dredging and Marine Co., Ltd. is a subsidiary of the Dutch construction company Boskalis. According to local news media reports, the company is said to be carrying out dredging activities, but Boskalis claimed that their subsidiary only leased their equipment and did not participate in the active dredging of the project.
Sangoloke Moses: We wrote to them that they should come so that we can sit at the round table and discuss the way forward, because this matter is affecting us. So they reply to us, and then we should write a letter to the Lagos state government. We wrote to them but did not get any response from them.
Maggie Andresen: When did you write that letter?
Sangoloke Moses: That was two or three years (before). We did not get any response from them.
Maggie Andresen: Sangoloke said that he and other community members visited the Ministry of Environment and Water Resources in Lagos State, which handles environmental impact assessments. This is where Commissioner Tunji Bello works now, but it did not exist at the time. Sangoloke said he was told that the ministry was not aware of any dredging work being carried out on the waterfront project. This is partly because there is no record of any negotiation between the developer and the EIA office.
Tunji Bello: The environmental impact assessment of this area has not yet been completed. That was our quarrel with that government at the time. This is one of the reasons why the government cannot be accepted because the negotiation has not been completed.
Maggie Andresen: He was referring to the governor's term of office for only one term.
Tunji Bello: That was between 2015 and 2019.
Maggie Andresen: So far, no assessment or consultation on the impact of the Oworonshoki project on the Ago Egun community has been made to the public. The story of Ago Egun Bariga shows the potentially devastating impact of a major unauthorized development project in Lagos, but this is not true of every waterfront community in the city. Others are still on the verge of development-and are working to ensure that potential projects can benefit the lives of residents. Many Lagosians do not know the island community Agala Ajebo. It is part of a small natural island group. It is a short boat ride from the Apapa port complex, and most of Nigeria's imported cargo is landed on long-distance ships. Agala Ajebo has no power grid, no medical center, and no formal school. People fish for their livelihoods, others sell food, others work in tailoring and other industries-when local demand is low, people leave the island to work. The island group is supported by mangrove forests-some of which are located in central Lagos.
Saheed Onisiwo: You will see it is so peaceful everywhere, we enjoy the atmosphere here, and we will see many birds and monkeys in the mangrove forest.
Maggie Andresen: That is Chief Saheed Onisiwo, the leader of Agala Ajebo. These islands were settled generations ago. For years, people have been using neighboring mangroves sustainably—harvesting them as quickly as possible. In addition to their role as habitats, carbon sinks, and flood and erosion barriers, they also provide firewood and construction materials for houses and fishing gear.
Saheed Onisiwo: Mangroves are trees that grow near the ocean and the creeks here. Trees are also useful for certain things; some people cut something to make their daily bread.
Maggie Andresen: The way people fish here is the same as they do in Ago-Egun Bariga, using the Acadja method.
Saheed Onisiwo: It absorbs wind and also provides us with food. We will pick some natural food from the water and mangroves.
Maggie Andresen: The coastal forest ecosystem around Agala Ajebo has another side effect-it is incredible in the tropical heat. As soon as I got off the boat and landed ashore, the temperature was significantly different. It feels cooler than other places in the city, where there is almost no natural sunlight.
Samuel Udofia: The temperature is very high. It shouldn't even be because it is close to the coast.
Maggie Andresen: That's Samuel Udofia, doctor. Candidate for PhD in Geography from Lagos University.
Samuel Udofia: So it should actually be, you know, cooler. But because of the destruction of wetlands and the destruction of vegetation, small water is now being eaten away. So nothing can control temperature or weather, or climate.
Maggie Andresen: Samuel uses a computer-based geographic information system to map and analyze the different effects of climate change, including deforestation and forest degradation. He analyzed a hand-drawn map of Lagos in 1897, created a spatial reference, and compared it with the topographic map in 1964 and satellite data in 1984, 2000, and 2020 to determine vegetation and vegetation as the urbanization process accelerated. Decrease of wetland ecosystem.
Samuel Udofia: Surprisingly, I never expected the urbanization of Lagos to develop so fast in 1964.
Maggie Andresen: Check out the color-coded maps corresponding to the years studied in 1897 and 1964. The former is almost completely covered by mangroves and vegetation. Small red markers representing community settlements are all over the mainland and islands of Lagos. By 1964, red flames covered half of the city.
Samuel Udofia: By 1964, although it took a long time, urbanization had already occupied the entire, you know, the entire region, the entire state. Again, the way the wetlands are being cultivated is also shocking.
Alade Adeleke: They can't really destroy most of the mangroves.
Maggie Andresen: That's Alade Adeleke, an environmentalist.
Alade Adeleke: What destroys is the factors that are far from the community. Decisions made from a distance. And decisions made by powerful people. Those can choose community leaders, or place community leaders, or bribe community leaders. Not a decision made by the community.
Maggie Andresen: Even if the development project does reach these off-grid areas, the key decisions about construction are often not in the hands of the community. The sustainable relationship that once allowed mangroves to continue to sprout has disappeared by fundamentally destroying the construction of coastal forests.
Alade Adeleke: Rural communities in wetland areas, especially coastal areas, have become accustomed to their coastal life. They are proud of it. Their children were born there and used to it, but when they are surrounded by the flashy city life you know, they also want to look like a person. But they don't know that this is a matter of giving and accepting each other. You give something, you lose another. So some of them have lost the value of the wetland ecosystem function...because they are suffering 10 years after their communities have been urbanized.
Saheed Onisiwo: Right now, we don't have any infrastructure in Agara... The main problem and challenge we face is electricity... If electricity can be universally accessible on the island, it will change the system. It may change, it will even boost the island’s economy... I am looking for a developer who can come and develop my community with me.
Maggie Andresen: For places like Agala Ajebo, there is a balance between one extreme and the other. Chief Al-Sahid wants his community to develop and he wants to preserve its natural beauty. On the other side of the city, Ago-Egun Bariga has never had a choice. However, it may not be too late for this verdant corner of Lagos to work with developers to create a common vision of the future.
Saheed Onisiwo: I believe that my community and environment are developing. I believe this development is coming soon. So what I pray for is the arrival of development.
Taibat Lawanson: Everyone in the city, rich or poor, has the right to yearn and have the opportunity to improve their lives.
Maggie Andresen: Lawanson again.
Taibat Lawanson: Neither can be done at the same time, because indeed, we need, you know, a group of wealthy people, we first need a group of economically viable people for tax purposes, so that the city and the economy can flow to find work Prospects, and, you know, job opportunities and employment opportunities throughout the city. But we cannot satisfy the needs of the rich by crushing the poor.
Maggie Andresen: But is a middle ground possible? One develops with the support of the community and develops in a way that maintains a balance between economy, fairness and ecology?
Countries all over the world are facing challenges related to increasing urbanization and extreme weather events. The lives and livelihoods of low-income people are most affected by these related factors. This phenomenon is sometimes referred to as climate-adaptive segregation. The rich can escape from environmental disaster zones, while the poor have no choice but to bear the impact.
Natural weather and water barriers such as mangroves and wetlands are being razed to the ground, not only in Lagos, but also in coastal cities everywhere. With the disappearance of these ecosystems, people are considering various ecological protection solutions. But so far, this balance has been difficult to find. Across the water from Agala Ajebo is a development company that aims to provide environmental protection and economic growth opportunities. It is also one of the most controversial projects in Lagos today.
Eko Atlantic City dreams of becoming a sustainable private city with its own power grid and water supply, located on a four-square-mile beach reclaimed from the Atlantic Ocean. It is advertised as a stately financial district and a support to prevent the rapid erosion of Victoria Island’s coastline. It also includes the community that was once Barr Beach, which was once home to 80,000 people who were expelled by force by the state police in 2008. Before starting the construction of Eko Atlantic, their house was burned down. The environmental impact assessment of the project broke ground in 2009 and was not approved until 2012 after three years of smooth construction. It has never solved the social impact of mass evictions. After construction began, disturbing news about deadly waves and displaced erosion in neighboring coastal communities was reported. The management of South Energyx Nigeria Limited, the initiator of the project, declined to be interviewed.
Taibat Lawanson: Especially in the past 15 years or so, we have begun to aspire to become a modern Dubai, to become the Manhattan of this world, etc... These threats are responding to this desire to belong to this cadre's desire to be a world-class city, a global city... …People have the right to fulfill their wishes, right? But it should not be at the expense of the survival of others.
Lydia Chain: Maggie, thank you very much for your story, and welcome to watch the show.
Maggie Andresen: Thank you very much for having me
Lydia Chain: Early in the story, you talked about the impact of racism and colonialism on Lagos. Can you elaborate?
Maggie Andresen: Of course. So I think it is important to note that Lagos as a colony was controlled by the British before Nigeria as a country. So Lagos was annexed by Britain in 1861. Nigeria did not become an official British colony until 1914, which gave the British more time to leave their mark in Lagos, in terms of infrastructure, and, to build cities. Therefore, starting from these activities, these activities are called malaria mitigation and different swamp land clearing regulations, which actually deprived the indigenous Lagos people of their ability to control and autonomy in their land. This is well documented in various academic sources. The traditional leaders of Lagos approached the colonial rulers and demanded some kind of reciprocity in the use of their land. Then, in the continued proliferation of mass deportations in communities of hundreds to thousands, it made a more modern landing. This is an ongoing problem that has been plagued by Lagos. Just last year, thousands of people were deported from their homes in Taqua Bay. This was a very high-profile deportation. Therefore, you can see that the forced relocation of many of them does raise the question of who has the right to shape the city?
Lydia Chain: This is an important clue that runs through your work. What avenues or opportunities do ordinary people need to share their views on what is happening nearby?
Maggie Andresen: So I think this is a very important issue when we consider the formal and informal feedback loops that should involve the public, especially when considering things like environmental impact assessment, right? Therefore, this should be a platform for the public to clearly and unequivocally participate in the discussion of the potential social and economic impacts of projects and construction development projects on their society. So this is not just about what the environmental impact is, although it is obviously very important, but it should take into account social impact, right. Therefore, this element of public discourse is very important. For example, when you see the fact that Ago-Egun Bariga has never conducted an environmental impact assessment. Therefore, if you do not have public opinion on a project like the Oworonshoki waterfront development project that has a major impact on the social and economic livelihoods of the people of Ago-Egun Bariga, then it is really unfair that the project serves the public interest.
Lydia Chain: Maggie Andresen is a freelance journalist based in Nigeria. Our theme music was produced by the Undark team, and the other music in this episode today comes from Kevin McLeod of Incompetech. I am your master, Lydia Chain.