Atlanticide in Nigeria
The irrational, uncontrollable, and calamitous impact of reclaiming land
In 2003, Nigeria dreamed up Eko Atlantic, a city built on a mound of dredged and transported sand (aka reclamation) off the coast of the capital city, Lagos. When it was first proposed, like most land reclamation projects, it was pitched as a climate change solution — additional land for people displaced by flooding. Twenty years later, the claim is actualizing into a high-end seaside development host to some of the most expensive real estate in Africa.
Lagos is already plagued by water. The city, which spans the mainland and islands, is both receding and sinking; and most of the population lives in floating slums dotting the city’s lagoons. There are a series of reasons for Lagos’ vulnerability. The city has poorly maintained drainage systems, which leads to severe flooding; it extends into a string of islands, which means more of it is susceptible to coastal erosion; and it is low-lying, making sea-level rise all the more detrimental.
Though land reclamation seems like a solution to land loss, it’s making the situation worse. Constructing new land requires moving lots and lots of sand. And when you dredge tons of sand, you destroy natural ecosystems that act as natural buffers against flooding, whether it’s mangrove forests, vegetation, or just wetlands. If you build on those natural barriers, you put civilization on vulnerable terrain.
The scandal of land reclamation is no secret. One study claims that an estimated 51% of coastal wetlands in China have been lost due to land reclamation. And it’s well-documented that the practice threatens local farming by adding heavy metals like mercury into the water.
But lots of money is involved, so the long term threats that are harder to quantify are lost in the comfortable mathematics of high rents, construction contracts, and government subsidies.
Eko Atlantic, like almost every land reclamation I have come across, is not being built to house people displaced by climate change, or to increase affordable housing for the rising displacement to come. In the dreamy eyes of its creators, it will be a new economic capital for Africa. It will be Hong Kong, London, NYC. Musicals about little orphan girls will celebrate its success and “I <3 Eko Atlantic” t-shirts will travel the globe.
The project is privately funded by South Energyx Nigeria Limited, which is working with the government. International and national banks have already partnered with Eko Atlantic, including BNP Paribas, and the US consulate in Nigeria announced that its new location in Lagos would be on Eko Atlantic.
According to the two billionaires brothers who own the real estate development company that will build Eko Atlantic, this newborn land will be covered in luxury apartments, sky-scrapers, a new financial district, a private power-grid, and a shopping boulevard.
In addition to advertising it as a housing solution, they are selling it as a panacea to the city’s recession: a job creator and a money maker, a way for investors to get a foothold in one of the world’s last emerging markets.
And maybe it can be, if it keeps its head above water.
In the last fourteen years since construction began, it has already been forced to battle the sea.
In 2012, a storm surge where the Eko Atlantic construction was taking place killed 16 people. Their answer was to propose a sea wall, which they called “The Great Wall of Lagos.” But when water hits a barrier, it does not retreat, it moves. Building a sea wall in one place means flooding will worsen in other parts of the coast, some of which includes other areas of Lagos.
They built it anyway!
The Great Wall of Lagos spans eight kilometers (about five miles) and is made up of 100,000 concrete blocks that each weigh five tons. But 12 kilometers away (eight miles) individual land owners are saying that the project has already devastated neighborhoods and washed away an entire scenic road along the shore. Those communities are now starting to build their own barriers, undoubtedly sending the trouble on to the next lucky inheritors of relentless geoengineering.
Eko Atlantic is not Lagos’s first land reclamation project. In the 1990s, the city reclaimed a peninsula of shallow swamplands (aka natural barriers) from the sea in a place called Lekki. The land became a middle-class residential area. It is progressively sinking, which means drainage systems are poor and flooding is increasingly severe.
The data is clear, the anecdotes are colorful, but building continues. And when trouble strikes, the answer is to build more.
For now, Eko Atlantic remains a dusty deserted landscape on the edge of the Atlantic ocean, but to investors, it teems with potential. Lagos is a booming city defined by ambition and capitalist growth; and the fact that the reclaimed land is privately owned makes it even more desirable to investors. A local news site says that every square meter will cost $1,720, far higher than anything on Victoria Island, which is the current fancy financial hub of Lagos.
The threats from the sea can’t compete with the vision of opportunity the city signifies. And though the harm caused by land reclamation — and the ensuing vulnerability it causes — is well documented, the scandal continues unabated. Eko Atlantic is just one of many land reclamation projects in the works, from those in the Philippines to Copenhagen to Miami.
Eko Atlantic illustrates the scandal of land reclamation: a terminology that auto-justifies the mass disturbance of ocean habitats and natural flood barriers under the framing that humans are rightfully reclaiming something that always belonged to us.
It seems inevitable that the ocean will, with far more gusto and pride, soon re-reclaim this freshly cash-filled land.
Fun piece! Well written! Informative! An instant Edifice classic!