A fresh storm is brewing along the Atlantic corridor.
Communities in Ibeju-Lekki, Lagos State, an axis already reshaped by bulldozers, are raising alarm over what they describe as a new federal plan to enforce a 150-metre setback on both sides of the Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway.
For residents who have already watched homes, shrines, and family compounds reduced to rubble, the markings feel less like planning and more like a prelude.
“If they take another 150 metres left and right, what will be left of our communities?” asked Chief Adebayo Agbabiaka, speaking on behalf of affected villages.
A Legacy Project Meets Local Anxiety
The Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway is one of President Bola Tinubu’s flagship infrastructure projects — a roughly 700-kilometre coastal artery expected to link Lagos to Calabar, traversing Ogun, Ondo, Edo, Delta, Bayelsa, Rivers, Akwa Ibom, and Cross River states.
Residents insist they support development. Many praised the vision as transformative.
But they say repeated realignments have come at a staggering cost.
Entire villages, including multi-storey buildings erected long before modern road access reached the area, have reportedly been displaced. Some homeowners claim compensation ranging between N9 million and N10 million — sums they argue are insufficient to secure land in today’s Ibeju-Lekki property market, let alone relocate extended families.
“We are not fighting anyone. We are appealing for a waiver,” Agbabiaka said. “Even if they compensate us, where are we expected to go?”
The fear is not just about property. It is about identity — ancestral shrines, communal land, generational homes.
Businesses, Investors, and Jobs at Risk
Beyond heritage, the economic stakes are rising.
The coastal corridor has become a magnet for real estate investment, hospitality, and tourism ventures. Previous demolitions along the beachfront — including the high-profile case of Landmark Beach Resort — ignited national debate over balancing infrastructure with private enterprise.
Owned by businessman Paul Onwuanibe, the $200 million resort reportedly housed more than 80 businesses, supported over 4,000 direct jobs, and paid upwards of N2 billion in annual taxes. The property welcomed more than one million guests in the year before its demolition notice.
For many in Ibeju-Lekki, that episode remains a cautionary tale.
“Development should not mean destroying livelihoods without clear engagement,” said one resident, who warned that fresh demolitions could destabilise small businesses already grappling with inflation and economic uncertainty.
Survey Markings, But No Demolition — Yet
A source within the Federal Ministry of Works, speaking anonymously, said the recent markings were conducted by the Office of the Surveyor-General of the Federation to indicate that structures within 150 metres on either side of the corridor sit on federal land.
“They are not demolishing the marked buildings,” the source said, framing the exercise as informational rather than operational.
Still, residents say bulldozers followed previous assurances.
The Zonal Director of Survey Coordination in Lagos declined to comment when contacted.
Transparency Questions Resurface
The controversy echoes earlier tensions over route realignments and disclosure.
Minister of Works Dave Umahi had previously confirmed that a proposed diversion of the coastal highway would not proceed, partly due to submarine cable infrastructure risks that telecom operators warned could trigger nationwide network outages.
At the same time, Umahi said the Environmental Impact Assessment would not yet be made public, citing Section 15(b) of the Freedom of Information Act — a provision allowing denial of access to certain third-party information.
For affected residents, limited transparency fuels anxiety.
A Delicate Balancing Act
Infrastructure megaprojects often demand sacrifice. But in Ibeju-Lekki, the scale of potential impact — ancestral displacement, business disruption, shrinking communal land — has sharpened calls for consultation and flexibility.
Community leaders are urging both the Federal Ministry of Works and the Lagos State Government to clarify the final alignment and setback provisions, engage openly with affected villages, and consider waivers for long-established settlements.
At stake is more than land.
It is the question confronting many fast-growing economies: how to build the future without erasing the foundations of the past — and without pushing citizens and businesses to the brink.
For now, the red markings remain.
And so does the fear.
