In the heart of Nigeria’s commercial capital, a silent tsunami is sweeping across the city, dismantling homes, displacing families, and deepening the already gaping divide between the privileged and the struggling majority. Lagos, once hailed as a city of opportunities, is now at the epicentre of an unprecedented rent crisis that is gradually eroding the very fabric of urban survival.
From the eye-brow of Victoria Island to the overstretched outskirts of Idimu and Ojodu Berger, the story is the same, rent prices are skyrocketing, and average Nigerians are being edged out of their own city. This crisis is not only financial; it is social, emotional, and, most troubling of all, existential.
With Lagos’ population of over 20 million swelling by roughly 3,000 people daily, the demand for housing is far outpacing supply. Yet, rather than meeting this demand with affordable solutions, landlords have seized the moment, passing the burden of inflation onto tenants who are already grappling with stagnant wages and economic instability.
The economic reforms introduced by the Federal Government, particularly the floating of the naira and removal of fuel subsidies may have been designed for long-term gain, but their short-term effects have been brutal.
What is more disturbing is the apparent normalisation of homelessness. Under bridges and in derelict structures, Lagosians some paying as much as N250,000 per annum to criminals masquerading as landlords are forced to live in subhuman conditions. A recent government operation under the Dolphin Estate Bridge exposed 86 partitioned rooms housing desperate families. This is the grim reality behind the city’s glittering skyline.
But even those who manage to secure legal housing are not spared. In areas like Okota and Ago Palace Way, two-bedroom flats now command between N2 million and N2.5 million per annum, an impossible demand for the average salary earner. In less central locations, rents have surged from N450,000 to over N1.2 million within just six months. For many, this means uprooting families, pulling children out of schools, and commuting for hours through Lagos’ notoriously chaotic traffic. The mental and emotional toll is immeasurable.
Despite the Lagos Tenancy Law of 2015, which stipulates that rent increases must be reasonable and negotiated, enforcement remains largely theoretical. As attorney Valerian Nwadike rightly noted, the law is rarely implemented unless a tenant can afford to sue, a luxury most cannot afford.
The Lagos State House of Assembly has recently urged full enforcement of the law and public awareness campaigns to educate tenants on their rights. This is a welcome development, but it is merely a starting point. Dialogue with stakeholders, as suggested by Speaker Mudashiru Obasa, is critical, but dialogue without decisive action will only add to the noise.
What Lagos needs is an aggressive and well-funded approach to social housing. The government must prioritise mass housing schemes, incentivise private sector investment in low-income housing, and ease the bureaucratic bottlenecks that have stifled development. Mortgage accessibility must be improved, and interest rates restructured to reflect the realities of the average Nigerian.
The current bifurcated housing market with luxury apartments for dollar earners on one side and uninhabitable shanties for the rest cannot be the legacy of Nigeria’s most populous city. As cranes rise over Eko Atlantic and Banana Island, it is vital that similar ambition fuels projects in Yaba, Surulere, Gbagada, and the mainland suburbs where millions toil to keep the city afloat.
Housing is not a luxury; it is a basic human right. And if Lagos the city of dreams continues to price out its people, then it will soon be nothing more than a nightmare dressed in concrete and glass.
The rent crisis in Lagos is not just an economic failure. It is a moral one. It is time for the government, private sector, and civil society to rise above the din of excuses and face this crisis with the urgency it demands. Because if we don’t, the next generation may inherit not a megacity of promise, but a jungle where only the wealthy can breathe.
