Landmark Beach and Eminent Domain in Nigeria
The conflict over a highway being built through a bustling economic zone in Lago's precious beachfront
Lagos isn’t particularly amenable to outdoor activities - the weather is typically around 90 degrees with 90% humidity, or actively downpouring. As a relatively outdoorsy person, this is something I had to quickly adjust to when we initially moved. Activities here were typically going to revolve around bars and restaurants, dinner parties, and the occasional art or cultural event. The one exception to that rule seemed to be the beach. There are multiple beach areas in Lagos and the more secluded (and typically privatized) beaches are often accessible by taking a short boat ride, but the nicest, most convenient option was a beach called Landmark beach, accessible by car, about a 30 minute drive from our house, and full of conveniences – chairs and beach umbrellas for rent, waiters circulating to allow you to order from a huge range of restaurants, people walking around selling fresh coconuts for drinking. It even had a pool developed right on the sand in case the ocean water didn’t seem appealing that day. Though not necessarily the outdoor adventure I was used to, being able to spend a day outside, even in a very relaxed environment felt like a lovely outlet for me in our first few months in Nigeria.
This year, right at the end of May, suddenly there was news about Landmark beach and its surrounds — that with only few days of warning, the government decided that the expansion of a road they needed built was going to go right through Landmark and suddenly, developments that had been invested in over years were destroyed overnight.
As in the US, this project is a permissible thanks to eminent domain, which allows governments to acquire private land for public projects, typically with compensation to the landowners. While in principle it is meant to facilitate development and public benefit, its implementation often draws controversy, especially when the perceived benefits to the public are questioned or when the compensation offered is deemed inadequate.
The most famous example in the US, deeply explored by Robert Caro in “The Power Broker” is Robert Moses, who wielded eminent domain as a powerful tool to reshape New York City, constructing highways, bridges, parks, and housing projects. His work certainly transformed the city's infrastructure, but often at a significant human cost – entire neighborhoods were demolished, the building of the Cross Bronx Expressway in the 1950s resulted in the displacement of 60,000 people, and other projects were completed with little or no compensation going to the communities. As far as beaches go, Moses even limited accessibility to many New York beaches by constructing bridges over access roads such that public buses could not make it through.
I don’t mean to say that this project is all that similar – it’s effect is significantly smaller and even today primarily caters to the wealthier groups in Lagos. The challenge comes, however, with the speed and lack of community engagement on the question. After the announcement that the road was going to be built, within 2 weeks there was demolition happening at Landmark. Critics of the project contend that the government has not provided adequate compensation or alternative housing solutions for those displaced. Additionally, there are concerns about the transparency and fairness of the process, with accusations that the interests of powerful developers and politicians are being prioritized over those of ordinary citizens.
In Nigeria especially, this is a hard fight to fight. Despite the emotional and psychological toll inflicted on residents who will have to move, the employment opportunities that are suddenly gone, the potential environmental effects on the beach ecosystems, it’s a particularly tough challenge to fight the government in Lagos. There has been some conversation in the past few months that imply there may be a compromise that is possible, but we will have to wait and see.