Lagos Assembly stops Makoko demolitions – community reacts after protests

By: Abudu Olalekan

So. Tuesday, February 3. Stakeholder room at the Lagos Assembly. Wet wood smell from the chairs. Hum of generators outside.

Mr. Noheem Adams – chair of that ad-hoc committee set up by Speaker Obasa last month – leans into the mic. Says it plain: All demolitions in Makoko, Oko-Agbon, Shogunro? Stopped. Effective immediately.

No hemming. No “we are reviewing.” Just: halted.

Why now? Because last week, people flooded the Assembly complex. Protests. Loud. Grief raw – homes gone, nets torn, graves covered in sand. Some got arrested. Tensions? High. Real high.

Adams tells the room: Ministries, task force, everyone – hands off. Full stop. And? He wants answers. Who’s actually on that task force. What’s their mandate. No black boxes.

Plus – and this matters – affected folks must sit at the table. Not just get told after the fact. Decisions? Co-made. Or they’re not decisions. Just orders.

Then he drops it: “Compensation will be paid to those already affected.”

And the room? Cheers. Not wild. But deep relief. You could feel shoulders drop.

Community leaders nodded. Quietly. One said later: “Finally. Someone heard us before the bulldozers came.”

Mr. Tomi Ipaye – lost his workshop in Shogunro last month – called it “a step. A real step toward talking, not tearing.”

But. And this is the big but – a source close to the talks (who asked not to be named, you know how it is) said straight:
“No amount of naira fixes losing your grandfather’s fishing spot. Or the shrine where we baptized babies. Or the only road to the market when rains come. You can’t price dignity. Or lives maybe lost because nobody listened early.”

“But…” they added, voice low, “if they do this right? Follow global best practices? Actually sit with us? Maybe – just maybe – it feels less like theft. More like justice. Not perfect. But real.”

Look – suspension isn’t the end. It’s breath space. A chance to actually do what Lagos keeps promising: development that doesn’t erase people.

The Assembly’s word now hangs in that sticky Lagos air. Will they make sure transparency isn’t just a line in a letter? Will residents truly shape what comes next? Will compensation cover real loss – not just square meters, but roots?

One elder left the meeting muttering: “We’ve heard ‘suspension’ before. Then silence.”

This time? People are watching. Not just hoping. Watching.