Devastation in Oworonshoki: Families Sell Belongings for Pennies After Brutal Demolition

Lagos, Nigeria – The once-thriving waterfront community of Tolu Alashe Street in Oworonshoki, Lagos, lies in ruins. Days after the Lagos State Government’s midnight raid, hundreds of residents—mostly women and children—are left homeless, scavenging for scraps to survive. The streets, once filled with laughter and commerce, are now a desolate landscape of broken concrete, twisted metal, and shattered dreams

Mrs. Rebecca, a mother of one, sits on the roadside, her eyes swollen from grief. “I came back from the hospital with a spinal injury, and they destroyed everything,” she whispered, cradling a rusted pot and a fan. “I paid ₦360,000 for this two-room apartment. Now I’m selling it all for peanuts. This fan cost ₦35,000; the scrap dealer offers ₦1,000. What choice do I have?” 😢

Rebecca isn’t alone. Mrs. Jumai, a 10-year resident, fled her home at 11 p.m. as bulldozers approached. “We ran out half-dressed. My shop, my children’s school—gone. Where do we go?” she lamented.

*A Humanitarian Crisis Unfolds*
Scrap buyers (“aboki”) swarm the area, exploiting desperation. Families sleep in the open, battling hunger and disease. The government’s justification: “illegal structures” posing environmental risks. But residents claim no prior notice, no compensation, and no resettlement plans.

Lagos State Attorney General Lawal Pedro insists the demolitions targeted unauthorized buildings on government-acquired land. “No court order was served before the operation,” he said, urging critics to “stop using emotion to justify illegality.” Compensation was offered, but many say it’s insufficient.

Activists, including the Take-It-Back Movement, condemn the “inhumane” act. A planned protest was postponed due to police threats, but organizers vow to fight on. Amnesty International calls for intervention: “Forced evictions violate human rights.”

As children huddle on bare floors and women trade clothes for food, the question echoes: _Why?_ “We’re not squatters,” says a community elder. “We need dignity, not bulldozers.”

The government must act. Until then, Oworonshoki’s survivors cling to hope one meager sale at a time