Weekend greetings to you great Aproko people, welcome to the latest edition of the “Coastal Highway Chronicles.” Having marvelled at the 4.3% commissioned marvel (now accepting applications for “re-commissioning” tours, apparently) in Edition 1, and the disappearing act of businesses and compensation in Edition 2, we now turn our attention to the bedrock of any grand project: the plan itself. Or, in this case, the delightful lack thereof.
One might assume that a project costing upwards of ₦14 trillion and spanning 700 kilometers would be meticulously planned, dissected by feasibility studies, and robustly debated in legislative chambers. But that, my Aproko people, is thinking in old money, old ways! Why bother with such tedious preliminaries when you have vision?
Critics, bless their meticulous hearts, like former IPAC Chairman Peter Ameh, dared to suggest that the project was akin to building a house without blueprints. They whisper (or, rather, shout) about a startling lack of transparency, the curious absence of proper surveys, and a distinct disinterest in legislative backing. Imagine their shock when challenges like “swampy terrain” and “environmental impact” were apparently discovered after work had already begun! Who knew coastal areas had swamps? Truly groundbreaking hydrology at play.
Indeed, the environmental enthusiasts at Mongabay and Environewsnigeria have pointed out a delightful anomaly: construction on this gargantuan project reportedly began without the legally required Environmental and Social Impact Assessments (ESIAs) being approved. Oh, the minor details! Why let a little thing like ecological preservation hold back the juggernaut of progress?
We’re told a draft ESIA for just Section 1 (a mere 47.5km out of 700km) exists. A draft! After construction started! It’s like baking a cake and then deciding to read the recipe. This draft, we hear, bravely identifies potential impacts on wetlands, mangroves, soil erosion, water quality, and biodiversity. It even bravely admits to disrupting fishing communities and potentially obliterating ancestral heritage. But hey, you can’t make an omelet without possibly erasing a thousand-year-old fishing tradition, right? The Minister of Environment’s panel, in their infinite wisdom, even picked holes in this draft, noting a conspicuous absence of geotechnical investigations and full disclosure. Who needs geology when you have sheer will?
Now, let’s talk about accountability. Our dear Minister of Works, Engr. David Umahi, has faced a barrage of pesky questions regarding transparency and the project’s many controversies. His response? A masterclass in deflection and statesmanlike dismissal. He has confidently asserted that those who criticize the project should simply “not use the road” once it’s complete. A brilliant solution, truly! Why engage with valid concerns when you can simply offer a travel advisory?
When diaspora investors, bewildered by the demolition of their $250 million investments due to an unexplained “highway diversion” from a 2006 gazetted alignment, dared to seek answers, the Minister challenged them to publish their financial records. Because demanding transparency from the public while shrouding government projects in secrecy is the new gold standard of good governance. And let’s not forget the ringing endorsement from none other than President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, who, when faced with critics of the Minister, reportedly advised Engr. Umahi not to “listen to them.” Because who needs constructive criticism when you have presidential approval?
In our next edition, we will delve into the grand finale: the truly mind-bending appearance of two titans of Nigerian public life at the commissioning of our 4.3% completed wonder. What does their presence say about the intersection of intellectual gravitas, corporate accountability, and… well, whatever this project is? You won’t want to miss it!