Greetings to you my dear Aproko people of AprokoNation. Welcome to this edition of the “Coastal Highway Chronicles,” where we continue our journey into the fascinating intricacies of Nigeria’s groundbreaking Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway. In our last edition, we celebrated the grand unveiling of a majestic 4.3% of the project, which, in a delightful twist of fate, was swiftly closed for more “ongoing work.” Today, we go deeper into the equally enthralling scene of land acquisition, a process handled with such finesse that it almost makes you believe in magic.
You see, building a monumental highway requires a bit of shuffling – specifically, moving people and businesses out of the way. And Nigeria, being a nation of innovative solutions, has perfected this art. The Minister of Works, the esteemed Engr. David Umahi the former governor of Ebonyi state who built an International Airport that has not attracted any International flight, has, with utmost candour, informed us that the government has already dispensed a princely ₦16 billion for compensation on Section 1, with another ₦4.738 billion earmarked for Section 2. Isn’t that just wonderful? So much generosity!
However, like any good magic trick, there’s always a bit of misdirection. Take, for instance, the curious case of Landmark Leisure Beach. This wasn’t just any beach; it was a sprawling tourism and recreation hub, boasting an investment of $200 million and supporting a vibrant ecosystem of 80 micro-businesses, providing livelihoods for over 4,000 direct jobs. A minor inconvenience, perhaps, to a grand vision.
According to the Minister, a significant portion of what was demolished at Landmark consisted of mere “shanties” and structures built on the government’s right-of-way. Oh, those pesky shanties! Who knew they could be so well-funded and provide so many jobs? But alas, progress must march on, even if it means trampling over what others might quaintly call “legitimate businesses” and “livelihoods.”
The CEO of Landmark, Mr. Paul Onwuanibe, in what must be a stark case of mistaken identity, claimed that his company had lost properties worth ₦42 billion and received absolutely zero compensation. Zero! One can only assume he simply forgot to check his bank account, or perhaps the compensation was so deftly transferred that it became invisible. Clearly, “shanties” have a much higher valuation in the private sector than they do in government eyes. And the 4,000 direct jobs? Poof! Invisible, much like the compensation, we presume.
Then there are our dear diaspora investors, who, with their quaint notions of “rule of law” and “prior notice,” dared to invest over $250 million. They too claim their properties were illegally demolished, and their investments jeopardized, all thanks to a rather spontaneous “diversion” of the highway from the 2006 gazetted alignment. A gazetted alignment, you ask? How old-fashioned! Clearly, infrastructure projects in the 21st century operate on a more flexible, dare we say, whimsical blueprint. Why stick to a dusty old map when you can just… reroute? And if a few hundred million dollars of private investment get in the way, well, that’s just the cost of doing business in a dynamic economy, isn’t it?
The Minister, in his unwavering commitment to transparency, even challenged these diaspora investors to “publish their financial records” to prove their claims. Because nothing says “accountability” like asking the victims to prove their victimhood, while the government’s own project documents remain shrouded in an aura of mystery.
In our next edition, we’ll peel back another layer of this onion, exploring the whispers (and shouts) about feasibility studies, environmental impact reports, and the glorious lack thereof. Get ready, because the plot, much like the highway itself, keeps on diverting!