Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway: Who Pays When Engineering Takes a Backseat to Politics?
With 2,700 buildings marked for demolition and communities drowning, the coastal highway controversy is a case study in what happens when infrastructure projects bypass proper engineering process.
In the space of a few months, the Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway has gone from a celebrated infrastructure project to one of the most controversial construction undertakings in Nigeria’s history.
The numbers are staggering. Two thousand seven hundred buildings marked for demolition. Over 50 communities facing displacement. Flooding so severe that residents in Ibeju-Lekki, Eleko, and surrounding areas now brace for rain with dread rather than relief. And a compensation bill that runs into billions of naira — with no clear path to payment.
This is not just a story about a road. It is a story about what happens when engineering is treated as an afterthought in a politically driven project.
How Did We Get Here?
The Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway was conceived as a 700-kilometre coastal corridor connecting Lagos to Calabar through eight states. It is a necessary project. Nigeria’s coastal axis is underserved by road infrastructure, and the economic case for a highway that links the Lekki Deep Sea Port, Dangote Refinery, and multiple free trade zones is strong.
But somewhere between conception and construction, the process broke down.
The original 2006 gazetted alignment ran close to the Atlantic coastline — a route that had already completed environmental impact assessments. At some point, that alignment was changed. The road was moved inland. And that decision, according to multiple engineering experts, may have set off a chain reaction of environmental and social consequences that are now playing out in real time.
The Flooding Problem
When Stella Okengwu, CEO of Winhomes Limited and a registered engineer, says the road alignment contributed to the flooding that devastated parts of Lagos in July 2026, she is not being political. She is being technical.
Her argument is straightforward: constructing the road at an elevation significantly higher than the surrounding communities created a barrier that prevents floodwater from draining naturally into the Atlantic. Stephen Akintayo, Chairman of Gtext Holdings, described it as a “valley effect” — water flows in but cannot flow out.
The Federal Ministry of Works attributes the flooding to blocked drainage channels, indiscriminate refuse dumping, and poor urban planning. These are real problems. But they do not tell the full story.
The full story is that when you alter the alignment of a major highway without revisiting the hydrological modelling, you are engineering trouble. Water does not care about politics. It follows the path of least resistance. And if you build a wall across that path, the water will find somewhere else to go — usually into people’s homes.
The Demolition Crisis
Beyond the flooding, there is the question of the 2,700 buildings now at risk because the Federal Government announced a 15-metre setback for service lanes along the corridor.
The controversy here is not about whether service lanes are needed. They are. Any major expressway requires service roads to separate local traffic from through traffic. The problem is that these service lanes should have been included in the original design — before construction began, before properties were developed, and before billions of naira in investments were committed.
An estate surveyor, Olusola Enitan, put it bluntly: “Competent engineering does not discover its own right-of-way midway through construction. Infrastructure of this magnitude should not be built on improvisation.”
This is the crux of it. Developers and homeowners along the corridor did not build illegally. They obtained government approvals, passed inspections, and invested based on a known right-of-way. To now demolish their properties because the design was revised after construction commenced is not just bad policy — it is a breach of planning integrity.
The Investor Confidence Problem
The most damaging consequence of this controversy may not be the flooding or the demolitions. It may be what it does to investor confidence in Nigeria’s real estate sector.
Stephen Akintayo has warned that the uncertainty surrounding property rights along the corridor is already deterring local and diaspora investors. If you are a Nigerian living in the UK or the US considering investing in Lagos real estate, what do you make of a situation where validly approved developments are demolished without adequate compensation?
This matters because Nigeria’s housing deficit — estimated at 28 million units — cannot be closed without private sector investment. And private sector investment requires trust in the regulatory framework.
What Should Have Happened
From an engineering perspective, there are clear lessons here that apply to every major infrastructure project in Nigeria:
1. Complete the hydrological studies before you break ground. A coastal highway through a low-lying region needs comprehensive flood modelling. Not after construction. Before.
2. Finalise the design — including service lanes — before you acquire land. Changing the right-of-way mid-construction is not a design revision. It is a planning failure.
3. Respect the Environmental Impact Assessment. The original 2006 EIA was conducted for a specific alignment. When the alignment changed, the EIA should have been revisited.
4. Compensate fairly and transparently. An independent compensation fund, jointly managed by the Federal Government, Lagos State, and industry stakeholders, would restore some confidence.
What FURD BASE Believes
At FURD BASE, we are engineers. We believe in building. But we believe even more strongly in building right.
Before we design a structure, we study the site — its hydrology, its soil, its environmental constraints, its regulatory context. We do not move earth until we know where the water goes. We do not sign off on structural drawings until we are certain the engineering is sound.
The Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway is a necessary project. But necessity is not an excuse for cutting corners. Nigeria deserves infrastructure that works — for everyone: the commuters, the investors, and the communities who call the corridor home.
The road will be built. The question is whether we will learn from the mistakes of its execution.