The city that
won't stop growing

A thick layer of acrid, blue smoke hovers just above the waterfront slums that skirt Lagos lagoon, filtering out sunrise and sunset.

This man-made mist that clings to the rusted shack rooftops comes from the countless fish-smoking cabins that drive the slum economy.

There’s an uninterrupted view of the city’s dramatic sprawl of poverty from the road bridges that carry daily commuters between the islands and the mainland.

Fishing and sand-dredging boats drift to work, heading deep into the lagoon.

Many of the slums’ wooden huts are on stilts, others are just basic shacks shoddily built on the unstable ground of trodden-down rubbish dumps.

Nobody knows exactly how many people live in Lagos, but they all agree on one thing – Nigeria's biggest city is growing at a terrifying rate.

The UN says 14 million. The Lagos State government thinks it’s nearer 21 million, as rural Nigerians are drawn by the hope of a better life to one of Africa’s few mega-cities.

By 2050 Nigeria will have twice the population it has today, more than half will live in cities, and about 60% of them will be under 25.

Can Lagos persuade wealthy investors to buy into a futuristic vision, while helping pull the poorest people out of poverty?

In about 30 years Nigeria will overtake the US to become the world’s third most populated country behind China and India.

It vies with South Africa for the status of the continent’s biggest economy, but it’s now in recession - beset by a drop in oil prices, and having to fund the fight against both Boko Haram Islamists and separatists targeting oil pipelines in the Niger Delta.

Like everywhere else in Africa trying to break out of poverty, Nigeria hopes fast population growth will bring it a “demographic dividend” – a young workforce that can drive economic growth. If they can all be put to work.

Already there’s migration north to Libya and on to Europe, and the young who are left idle and without much hope are easily radicalised by Boko Haram.

It’s going to take great management, smart politics and increasing security and stability to turn rapid population growth into a positive and avoid the potential for disaster.

Ebute Ilaje is a place that has lived off sand-dredging for decades.

Wooden boats with food-sack sails would bring sand from deep in the lagoon to sell as building material, employing thousands of people.

But then the government “taskforce” came – smashing holes in their boats and threatening to burn down the slum if they continued to work.

Now Folashade’s livelihood has gone – as has that of many in a community that depended on the sand-dredgers to keep the economy afloat.

Many believe what’s labelled a security crackdown against crime is an excuse to drive them out.

“The state government is interested in the land in all these waterfront communities... so the rich can benefit from it,” says former dredger Oladipupo Aireomiye.

His fears stem from the recent clearance of Otodo Gbame slum, which went ahead despite a court order halting its destruction.

The bulldozers came in with the taskforce, smashing tin shacks, burning anything wooden to the ground.

“The police seized our documents and fired tear gas… some people fled, others were shot,” says Maxwell Hunga, who lived in Otodo Gbame.

“The most challenging thing we are facing is the threat of eviction that is hanging around the community’s neck,” says Samuel Akinrolabu from the Nigerian Slum and Informal Settlement Federation.

“Over 40 communities are under the threat of eviction and 300,000 people would be rendered homeless eventually if this action is carried out,” he says.

“But forced eviction will not make slums disappear. Rather the moment you demolish a slum, naturally two or three more slums will spring up because people need somewhere to sleep."

“Lagos has no choice but to go up,” says Lateef Sholebo, head of Lagos State Urban Renewal Agency.

“How are we going to accommodate all the population? There is no way we can continue to sprawl.”After 25 years as a city planner in Los Angeles, he has now returned home to put into practice the lessons of urban renewal he has learned.

Emerging from the rusty tin rooftops and towering above the Eyo parade route is a multi-storey apartment block – a gleaming, modern show home rising from the slum.

“This project is very important because it shows the people in the community how a slum area can be transformed from what it used to be to a more modern, more sustainable environment,” he says, enthusiastically.

Eleven families lived on the land – they were persuaded to combine their plots and stay elsewhere while the 48-flat tower block was built.

Now they have 11 modern apartments to move into – and 37 extra new homes for their neighbours.

There’s already a Hard Rock Cafe, a fine dining restaurant, and an events centre which seats 4,000 people – hugely popular for expensive weddings.

Land has been cleared for a Marriott hotel, a small shopping mall, an IMAX cinema, two office blocks and two apartment buildings.

Here, people can avoid the Lagos chaos of overcrowding and terrible traffic congestion – the selling point is that if you can afford to live here, you never need to leave.

Onwuanibe’s five hectares are dwarfed by the massive Eko Atlantic project next door.

Earthmovers are landscaping this vast spur of land reclaimed from the sea, roads are being built and the first few tower blocks are beginning to take shape.

It’s a stark contrast from life in the slums – a symbol of the vast inequality in Lagos.

“There will always remain the super-rich and there will always remain the people just simply below the poverty line, but the hope is that over the next few years you will see that gap bridged as more people get more jobs,” says Onwuanibe.

“I believe in trickle-down economics – so that wealth you create actually goes through the system, so the very people that feel that they’re displaced end up getting helped.”

The newly-trained staff in the glossy new Lagos factory are carefully packing phones into boxes.

As production lines go it's small, but for “the first indigenous mobile, tablet, phone and computer assembly plant in Nigeria”, at least it's a start.

The company, Afrione, wants to tap into the big market for devices that a fast-growing young population provides, by producing cheap phones and tablets with the tagline “Made in Nigeria”.

At the moment at least 90% of the components are imported, but company director Lekan Akinjide wants to steadily decrease that by 4 or 5% a year.

“What we are actually doing fundamentally is starting the process - no-one else has really tried, no one else has really invested in a factory and the training of a skilled workforce,” he says.

“We've looked at China, we've looked at India, we've also looked at what people have done here and tried not to make the mistakes they have made.”

China had a fast growing population. It had deep and pervasive poverty, it was a rural economy and it turned itself around in a generation, mainly through manufacturing.

The luxury waterfront developer Paul Onwuanibe says inequality is everywhere, but he believes it's “a little more acute, or visible” in Lagos.

“That’s just part and parcel of mega-cities, but one of the things the government would have to think of is some kind of social platform... some sort of welfare platform that catches people below a certain safety net.

“As this country and this city develops, you will see the gap bridged to some extent.

“There will be a lot of people that will always remain under the poverty line just because of the sheer numbers,” he says, but believes the trickle-down from a growing economy and better private sector will see more people better off.

So what does Steve Ayorinde, the Lagos Governor and State spokesman, think the city will look like in 50 years?

“The pride of the black race,” he answers quickly. “Where technology will drive practically everything.”