Samuel Omang
For many residents of Lagos, Wednesday’s downpour was not just another rainy day—it was a nightmare that turned streets into rivers, homes into pools, and businesses into ruins.
From Maryland to Lekki, Ogba to Ikorodu, the city’s familiar soundtrack of honking horns was drowned out by the rush of floodwater, leaving motorists stranded and residents wading waist-deep through submerged streets.
At Olatunji Street in Maryland, the overflowing canal cut off the entire Mende community. Chinasa Nnadi, a long-time resident, sighed as she watched neighbours struggle to cross. “This has been happening for years. Some people even swim to their houses. Many have had to relocate entirely. It is unbearable,” she said.
Shops and worship centres were not spared. Kalu, a trader, recalled helplessly watching water gush into his store: “I watched as people scooped water from their homes. Before I knew it, my shop was gone too.” Christiana, a church worker, said the congregation’s musical instruments were destroyed. “It reached half the church building. We will have to fix or replace everything,” she lamented.
For commuters, it was chaos. Vehicles broke down in waterlogged junctions such as Ogba-Wempco, trapping people in hours-long traffic. Some, like Tunji Abass, spent the day in a gridlock that barely moved. Others, like Victor Obinna from Ikate, have adapted in extreme ways. “I sleep in the office whenever it rains,” he admitted. “If I don’t, I have to walk through floodwater before I can even get to work.”
Beyond property losses, the flooding has real economic and health costs. Billions of naira are lost annually to damaged vehicles, destroyed goods, and wasted man-hours in traffic. Public health risks also loom, as stagnant water often breeds cholera and other waterborne diseases.
Acknowledging the crisis, Lagos State Commissioner for the Environment and Water Resources, Tokunbo Wahab, assured residents that government interventions were underway. He noted that while Lagos, as a coastal city, remained highly vulnerable, investments in drainage, desilting, and new pumping stations would ease the problem.
Wahab also pointed fingers at human activities—illegal construction on floodplains and indiscriminate dumping of refuse in drains. “In several of the videos shared, clear infractions were observed. Illegal structures and obstructions will be removed,” he said.
Still, for residents like Chinasa and Kalu, government assurances sound all too familiar. The flood may have receded by morning, but its trail of destruction remains etched in damaged homes, soaked goods, and weary faces across Lagos.
And as the rainy season lingers, the question echoes louder: how much longer will Lagosians have to tread water before lasting solutions arrive?