Makoko Demolitions Explained: How Lagos Cleared a Floating Community — and Why Families Are Now Sleeping on Canoes

What began as a government-backed “safety enforcement” exercise has spiralled into one of the most distressing urban displacement crises Lagos has seen in recent years. In Makoko — the historic waterfront settlement perched on stilts over the lagoon — thousands of families have lost their homes, livelihoods, and any clear idea of where to go next.

Here’s a full breakdown of what happened, how it unfolded, and why the controversy refuses to die down.

What exactly happened in Makoko?

In late December 2025 and early January 2026, Lagos State government bulldozers and amphibious excavators moved into parts of Makoko, pulling down wooden houses and shops built over the lagoon.

The government said the demolitions targeted structures too close to high-tension power lines crossing the community — a move officials framed as necessary for public safety and urban planning.

But for residents, the operation felt sudden, sweeping, and brutal.

Homes that had stood for generations were flattened in hours. Fishing nets, schoolbooks, cooking utensils, trading goods — gone. With no relocation camps or emergency shelters provided, many families retreated onto the lagoon itself, tying canoes together and laying planks across them to sleep.

Why are families now sleeping on water?

Makoko is not just a place to live; it is where people fish, trade, raise children, and survive. Once the houses came down, many residents had nowhere else to go.

With land options closed off and rents elsewhere far beyond reach, families turned to what they had left: their fishing canoes.

• Canoes became bedrooms
• Planks became beds
• Plastic sheets became roofs

At night, parents sleep in fear, holding children tightly so no one rolls into the water. One wrong movement, one strong wave — and tragedy could strike.

“This is where we live now,” said a mother of three, pointing to a narrow canoe tied to others. “This is our house.”

Were residents warned?

This is where accounts sharply diverge.

Government officials insist discussions had been ongoing for years and that residents were warned to move back from the power lines.

But residents and human rights groups say otherwise.

According to multiple eyewitnesses:

• Demolition teams arrived with security personnel
• Structures were pulled down immediately
• Many families had minutes, not days, to salvage belongings

People ran into water carrying mattresses, children, and cooking pots. Many lost everything.

“They did not say tomorrow or next week,” one fisherman said. “They just came.”

The setback controversy: 30 metres, 100 metres… or more?

Originally, residents say they were told demolitions would be limited to a 30-metre safety setback from power lines. Later, officials cited 100 metres as the legal limit.

But community leaders and civil society groups allege the demolition went far beyond that, in some places reaching 150–200 metres.

This triggered public outrage.

Hundreds of residents marched to the Lagos State House of Assembly, carrying placards and pleading with lawmakers to intervene.

“They lied to us,” activists said bluntly.

Lawmakers received petitions and promised to table the matter, but demolitions had already left thousands displaced.

Hunger, sickness, and alleged deaths

As days passed, the humanitarian situation worsened.

• Fishing nets were destroyed, cutting off income
• Children developed skin rashes, coughs, and infections
• Schools were disrupted
• Food became scarce

Some residents survived on garri alone.

Human rights organisations alleged that two babies and an elderly woman died during the demolition period, reportedly linked to tear gas exposure and stress. The state government disputes these claims, but fear and grief have gripped the community.

Healthcare is now difficult to access, as sick residents must be ferried by canoe to distant clinics — at costs many cannot afford.

Government’s defence: safety first

The Lagos State Government maintains that:

• Living under or near high-tension power lines is dangerous
• Urban planning laws must be enforced
• Lagos’ growth into a megacity leaves no room for illegal structures

Officials argue that if a transmission line were to collapse into the lagoon, the consequences could be catastrophic.

Governor Babajide Sanwo-Olu has previously emphasised balancing development with safety, though critics say enforcement continues to disproportionately affect the poor.

A small relief, but no solution

Days after the demolitions, Yaba LCDA distributed food items and small financial support to affected families — rice, garri, toiletries, beverages.

It helped, briefly.

But relief materials do not replace homes.

There is still no clear resettlement plan, no compensation framework, and no timeline for what comes next.

Why Makoko keeps facing this fate

Makoko has been here before.

• 2005: mass evictions without notice
• 2012: large-scale demolitions that sparked global outrage
• 2026: history repeats itself

Critics argue that as waterfront land becomes more valuable, low-income communities are pushed out while high-end developments rise elsewhere on reclaimed land.

Organisations like Amnesty International have repeatedly condemned forced evictions carried out without consultation, compensation, or resettlement.

Urban planners say Makoko needs upgrading, not erasure — improved housing, sanitation, schools, and services — not bulldozers.

The big question Lagos must answer

Makoko residents insist they are not against development.

They are asking a simpler question:

If you must move us, where do you want us to go?

For now, thousands remain trapped between water and uncertainty, sleeping on canoes, waiting for answers, and wondering how long survival can substitute for shelter in Africa’s largest city.

In Makoko tonight, the lagoon is quiet — but the crisis is far from over.