The housing deficit: Why Makoko is a solution, not a problem

In the discourse on Lagos’ urban development, the staggering statistics of the housing deficit are often recited with a sense of helpless inevitability. With millions of Lagosians lacking decent accommodation, the state faces a humanitarian crisis that cannot be solved by new luxury high-rises in Eko Atlantic or gated communities in the suburbs. The solution to the housing crisis lies in preserving and upgrading the housing stock that already exists, and nowhere is this more pertinent than in Makoko.
The narrative must shift from viewing Makoko as an illegal settlement to recognizing it as a critical, albeit distressed, housing reserve that is keeping thousands of families off the streets.
To demolish Makoko is to actively worsen the homelessness crisis in Lagos. Every structure bulldozed is a family displaced, adding to the demographic of the homeless that the state is already struggling to manage.
A government truly committed to "housing for all" does not begin by destroying the homes of the poor. Instead, the administration should view Makoko through the lens of social housing delivery. If the government cannot build enough low-cost units to meet demand which history suggests it cannot then it must pivot to a policy of assisted self-help and in-situ upgrading.
The rehabilitation of Makoko should be treated as a massive, state-led housing project.
This means moving beyond vague promises of "infrastructure" and directly intervening in the habitability of the structures themselves.
The state can partner with development agencies to subsidize durable building materials marine-grade timber, eco-friendly floating platforms, and rust-resistant roofing making them affordable for residents. By standardizing the construction techniques used in the community and providing the engineering expertise to ensure safety, the government can transform shanties into safe, decent, and insurable homes without displacing the occupants.
This approach acknowledges the economic reality of the urban poor. Most residents of Makoko live there not because they reject life on land, but because the city’s formal housing market has priced them out of existence. Rehabilitating their current homes is the most direct form of poverty alleviation available. It grants them the dignity of a secure roof, protects them from the elements, and allows them to remain close to their sources of livelihood on the lagoon. When a government steps in to reinforce a sinking foundation or replace a leaking roof, it is performing a duty far more noble than eviction; it is fulfilling the social contract.
Ultimately, housing is a fundamental human right, not a privilege reserved for those who can afford land titles in Lekki. The rehabilitation of Makoko offers the Lagos State Government a chance to rewrite the playbook on slum upgrading in Africa. By choosing to house the people where they are, rather than scattering them into the wind, the administration would send a powerful message: that in Lagos, development is measured by human welfare, and that every citizen, regardless of their address, deserves a safe place to lay their head.
