Feature/OPED
How Lack of Clean Water is Driving up Diseases in Lekki
By Michael Owhoko, PhD
Help! Lekki residents are exposed to water-related diseases engendered by sub-standard and unregulated sources of water supply.
Increasing cases of dysentery and diarrhoea-induced pathogenic bacteria infections have sparked concerns on public health in the area.
Water is an essential element in human life, and the inability to have access to clean water makes healthy living a hazardous matter.
It is particularly worrisome for a cosmopolitan community like Lekki to live without guaranteed portable water, especially, during this COVID-19 era when the importance of regular washing with clean water is emphasized by the World Health Organisation (WHO).
It is a fact that Lekki conjures an image of affluence and comfort, going by splendid architectural edifice and exquisite relaxation spots sprawling all over the place, but beneath these allures, is a menace – lack of drinkable water.
If water is life, yet, it is extremely difficult to source, it means there is no life in Lekki, and unfit to be part of the Centre of Excellence.
By Lekki, I mean the geographical area straddling between Tollgate and Victoria Garden City (VGC). Despite its aquatic location bordered by the sea and the lagoon, clean water is hard to find due to its peculiar topography.
Unfortunately, the Lagos State Government has failed over the years to address this challenge, and nothing on the ground to suggest it is a priority. There is no water infrastructure in Lekki. Of all the network of water mains and spur service lines that run throughout the state, none is linked to the area. And there appear to be no plans by the Lagos Water Corporation (LWC) to build water facilities.
Regrettably, this has encouraged all manner of water merchants, using boreholes, tanker trucks and bottled water with questionable hygienic conditions lacking the capacity to pass purity test, to flood the area with their products.
With estimated water consumption of 90 million gallons per day (MGD) by Lekki residents out of the probable 800 MGD demand in the state, LWC is indifferent to the plight of the people as nothing to show succour is on the way.
Desperation to bridge the supply gap has forced residents to embrace these questionable boreholes, water tankers and bottled or sachet water, worsened by the absence of quality control and assurance by regulatory authorities. Therein lies the danger.
Take the boreholes for example. The peculiar topography of Lekki makes borehole water not reliable. The water is characterized by a mixture of iron, salt and colour due to contamination induced, perhaps, by the non-availability of a thick protective layer. Even the recommended borehole depth of approximately 230 m to 260 m by the LWC is defied by the water table structure and does not guarantee purity.
Though a few of the estates in Lekki have boreholes and treatment plants and complying with the recommended depth of LWC, the water is not clean and fresh enough to reassure residents of its wholesomeness. Residents are, therefore, compelled to limit usage to other forms of domestic activities, save for drinking.
Ironically, Ajah, an area adjacent to Lekki, has a good water table with a thick protective layer. This has led to the emergence of water vendors who use trucks/tanks to deliver and sell water to Lekki residents. Notwithstanding, there are concerns about hygiene.
These tanker trucks are seldom washed and are prone to contamination. Some of these trucks have been in operation for over ten years, yet, operators do not deem it fit to wash them, thereby exposing residents to infections. Besides, in the course of dispensing water, tanker trucks pollute the environment through the generation of noise and carbon monoxide, causing health hazards.
This leaves Lekki residents helpless, confining them to bottled water, which they believe, are reliable. But they are wrong! The risk of contamination in bottled and sachet water is also high due to adulteration and imitation fuelled by greed.
There are so many bottled water brands in circulation, all contending to capture the Lekki market share. Those who believe their brands lack the capacity to compete, resort to producing counterfeit by faking notable brands already enjoying market patronage. That is why at party venues in Lekki, empty bottles of consumed water of big brands are quickly taken away by quacks for recycle.
The impact is manifested in poor sales returns for these notable brands when compared to their visibility in the market. This simply means that some of those known products are just synthetic of genuine brands. This has forced some of the honest big water firms to rebrand and redesign their labels, bottles, caps and lids. It is aimed at re-establishing their unique identity and retention of market share.
But has this rebranding strategy worked? Who can differentiate original from fake? Your guess is as good as mine. As the genuine ones rebrand, the interlopers are also quick to raise their bars by cloning the rebranded models. They too want to remain in business.
Despite a lack of full-proof purity, Lekki residents believe they are better off with bottled water than drinking directly from boreholes and tanker trucks. This desperation to consume any water in bottle has exposed residents to unprepared risk.
If the National Agency for Food and Drug Administration and Control (NAFDAC) did its job proficiently and refusing any form of corruption infection, the activities of fake water dispensers would have been curtailed.
Recalled that in February 2016, a former Lagos Commissioner for Health, Dr Jide Idris, was reported to have disclosed that 25 children died after drinking pathogen-infected water at Otodo Gbame community, Ikate, Eti-Osa Local Government Area of the state. There are still many of such communities along the Lekki corridor with their peculiar water tales.
Implicitly, it is not by fluke that the biggest private hospital and, diagnostic and laboratory medical centre in Lagos State are located in Lekki. Obviously, the presence of these medical facilities is the outcome of well-researched feasibility studies. Even in elementary economics, proximity to the market is a strong consideration for the location of industries.
With water-related diseases on the rise in Lekki, there is guaranteed and fertile business for promoters of medical facilities. Patients are not only available, financial capacity of patients is also a reassuring incentive.
Rather than draw the Lagos State Government and the public to their plight, residents appear aloof, perhaps, overwhelmed by the mentality of “big boy”, preferring to endure the water hardship silently. There are also low-income brackets who live in Lekki. No class is immune from the water stress, which is exerting heavy health and economic toll on residents.
It is unhelpful for LWC not to have extended water mains to this area, as if it has a hidden axe to grind with Lekki. The only part of Lekki that currently enjoys a water supply from LWC is the segment close to the Tollgate, where services are either epileptic or not available.
It is the responsibility of LWC to provide water for residents, and the Lagos State Water Regulatory Commission (LSWRC) can ensure there is improved water supply, rather than paying more attention to the issuance of licences for boreholes. There is no consumer interest to protect where there is no water.
With a regular supply of water and a good billing system, LWC can generate more revenue. It is affordable. I strongly believe Lekki residents are willing to pay for the cost of water if it can be made available. It is indeed depressing when you can afford a thing but cannot find it.
Water is as critical as other infrastructure. If LWC is incapable of piping water to homes, it should collaborate with private entities to surmount this challenge. Inability to supply water places a heavy burden on the corporation and its motto – “Working to serve you better.” How do you serve people better when your delivery capacity is near comatose?
The Lagos State annual budget for water is particularly unhelpful and discouraging. It is not commensurate to the growing demand for water in the state, and it is suggestive of the government’s unpreparedness to improve on water infrastructure.
With implication on sanitation, it is indeed, a sad situation. Eko o ni baje.
Dr Mike Owhoko, journalist and author, is the Publisher of Media Issues, an online newspaper found at www.mediaissuesng.com.
By Blaise Udunze
Daily, the world watches Nigeria through a familiar lens in what appears to be a gory situation. Especially in cases when the news headlines tell stories of farmer-herder clashes, bandit attacks, kidnappings, villages reduced to ashes or deserted by the dwellers, as thousands of Nigerians have been displaced across states such as Zamfara, Plateau, Benue, Niger, Kaduna and Nasarawa. Subliminally, this is about to become a similarly ugly occurrence in southwestern Nigeria, which is fast becoming obvious if not nipped in the bud quickly.
Recorded data have shown that bandits, Boko Haram, and others killed over 190,000 Nigerians in 17 years and displaced 3.7 million people.
A human rights organisation, the International Society for Civil Liberties and Rule of Law (Intersociety), in its fearful revelation, has said that no fewer than 190,150 Nigerians have been killed by bandits, Boko Haram insurgents, and suspected armed herdsmen between July 2009 and March 19, 2026, as this calls for concern.
The dominant explanations often point to ethnic tensions, religious divisions, climate change, shrinking grazing routes or weak security institutions. No doubt, those factors are certainly part of Nigeria’s complex security crisis. Yet another question deserves serious examination.
What if, in some locations, the violence is also serving another purpose? What if some of the territories experiencing repeated displacement are the same places sitting atop some of Nigeria’s most valuable mineral deposits? More importantly, if such a pattern exists, who benefits when communities disappear?
Of a truth, these questions are uncomfortable, but undeniably they deserve careful investigation rather than dismissal.
For ages, Nigeria has been naturally endowed, and it is estimated to be rich in enormous significant reserves of gold, lithium, uranium, tin, columbite and other strategic minerals increasingly sought after in the global transition to clean energy technologies. As international demand for battery minerals continues to rise, these resources have become far more valuable than they were only a decade ago.
If one overlays publicly available geological information with maps showing persistent violence, some observers argue that striking geographical overlaps appear in several regions. Such overlaps alone cannot establish causation. Correlation is not proof of conspiracy. However, they raise questions worthy of independent scrutiny.
One issue attracting increasing attention and adequately yearns for answer is whether prolonged insecurity may inadvertently or deliberately create conditions that make mineral extraction easier.
Under Nigeria’s Nigerian Minerals and Mining Act 2007, mineral resources belong to the Federal Government, while mining rights are granted through licences and leases. Community engagement and land access are expected to form part of the licensing process, although implementation varies depending on circumstances. This raises an important policy question.
What happens when the communities expected to participate in those processes have already fled because of violence?
Displacement changes the dynamics of land ownership, consent and access. While no evidence automatically proves that attacks are orchestrated to facilitate mining, the sequence of violence followed by renewed commercial activity in some locations deserves closer examination by regulators, lawmakers and investigative journalists.
In conflict studies, researchers have long observed that wars often generate economic winners alongside humanitarian losers. Could elements of Nigeria’s insecurity also be producing economic beneficiaries?
Reports over the years have documented concerns about illegal mining operations across parts of northern Nigeria. Government agencies themselves have repeatedly acknowledged that criminal networks profit from the country’s vast mineral wealth. The unresolved question is whether isolated criminality has, in some instances, evolved into more sophisticated alliances involving political influence, financial interests and international supply chains. If so, the implications extend far beyond Nigeria.
Invariably, it is clearly known that lithium has become one of the world’s most strategic commodities, powering electric vehicle batteries and renewable energy storage systems. Gold has always remained one of the safest global investment assets during periods of uncertainty. Meanwhile, it is well confirmed that the global appetite for these minerals creates enormous financial incentives.
Suppose violent displacement reduces resistance to extraction. Suppose shell companies subsequently acquire mining interests. Suppose minerals then leave Nigeria through legitimate-looking export documentation while their true value remains understated.
These scenarios remain allegations unless supported by verifiable evidence. Yet they outline a framework that investigators may wish to test rather than ignore. Financial crime experts frequently identify trade mis-invoicing as one of the most common methods of illicit financial flows worldwide.
Could Nigeria’s solid minerals sector be vulnerable to similar practices? If valuable lithium ore is deliberately but inaccurately described as lower-value material on export documents, substantial wealth could potentially leave the country without reflecting its true market value. Likewise, if unrefined gold exits through privileged channels with limited scrutiny, questions naturally arise about oversight, transparency and accountability over criminal activities which have continued to stunt and disrupt the country’s socio-economic growth and at the same time cause carnage.
Such possibilities are not accusations against any particular institution or company. Rather, they illustrate why stronger monitoring systems are increasingly essential. Another question concerns logistics.
With the high level of criminal activities, industrial mining requires heavy machinery, diesel supplies, transportation networks and specialised personnel. These are not operations that can remain invisible indefinitely.
If certain territories are genuinely too dangerous for security agencies, how do industrial-scale extraction activities reportedly continue in some remote locations? If they do, who protects those operations? Who authorises their movement? Who verifies what is extracted? Who ensures royalties and export revenues reach public coffers? These are governance questions that demand institutional answers.
Equally important is the international dimension. Minerals extracted in Nigeria ultimately enter global supply chains. Gold may pass through international refining hubs before entering financial markets. Lithium may become part of battery manufacturing destined for electric vehicles, which are being sold across Europe, North America and Asia.
One known fact is that consumers purchasing products containing these minerals rarely know the full story of where they originated.
Increasingly, however, investors and governments are demanding ethical sourcing standards that trace minerals from extraction to final manufacture.
A critical factor that must be taken into cognisance is that if insecurity is creating opportunities for illegal or unethical extraction anywhere in the world, multinational companies have responsibilities alongside national governments, of which the onus falls on the Nigerian government.
Transparency cannot stop at the mine gate. Nor should accountability end at national borders. Another issue requiring attention concerns beneficial ownership.
Across many jurisdictions, shell companies can obscure the identities of individuals ultimately controlling commercial assets. If politically exposed persons or powerful business interests are hidden behind complex corporate structures registered offshore, identifying beneficiaries becomes significantly more difficult. This challenge is hardly unique to Nigeria.
Findings showed that from Latin America to Central Africa and Southeast Asia, resistant corporate networks have frequently complicated efforts to combat corruption and illicit resource extraction. That is precisely why open corporate registries, beneficial ownership databases and transparent mining licence disclosures are becoming global governance priorities. For Nigeria, the stakes could hardly be higher.
The country stands at the centre of the world’s emerging critical minerals economy. The Nigerian government can’t feign ignorance of the fact that, when handled transparently, these resources could finance infrastructure, education, healthcare, and industrial development for generations.
In no way would the government claim not knowing that when handled poorly, they risk becoming another chapter in the well-documented “resource curse,” where extraordinary natural wealth coincides with persistent poverty, insecurity and institutional weakness.
The ultimate challenge, therefore, is not simply about mining. It is about governance. It is about whether public institutions possess both the independence and capacity to ensure that natural resources benefit citizens rather than narrow interests. It is about whether conflict zones receive genuine peacebuilding efforts instead of becoming forgotten frontiers. And it is about whether international markets demand accountability with the same enthusiasm they demand raw materials.
None of these questions should be answered through speculation. They require rigorous investigations, forensic financial analysis, satellite imagery, mining license audits, customs records, beneficial ownership disclosures and courageous journalism.
They require governments willing to open their books. They require international cooperation capable of tracing money across borders. Most importantly, they require asking questions that have too often remained unasked.
Perhaps Nigeria’s security crisis is exactly what it appears to be: a tragic convergence of historical grievances, weak institutions, criminality and environmental pressures. Or perhaps, in some places, another layer of economic incentive deserves closer scrutiny.
Until those questions are thoroughly investigated, one possibility will continue to linger. Maybe the world’s attention has been fixed on the blood spilt above ground, while too little attention has been paid to the extraordinary wealth lying beneath it.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com
Feature/OPED
What Does Nigeria’s $51bn Reserves Milestone Mean if Most New Foreign Money Can Leave Quickly?
Nigeria’s foreign reserves have climbed to about $51 billion, a decade-plus high, according to the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN). EBC Financial Group (EBC) notes that this reflects stronger investor confidence, but the second half may show whether it holds, as the build rests on three cyclical drivers: oil earnings, short-term foreign money and a narrowing official-to-street naira gap.
Reserves rose from about $32 billion in April 2024, during a dollar shortage, to about $51 billion now, near the CBN’s target. Much came from two cyclical sources, strong oil earnings and money chasing high-yielding naira assets, so EBC expects the pace to slow or reverse. Fitch Ratings, a major international credit rating agency, expects a marginal decline to about $47 billion by the end of 2026, citing higher spending and external pressures.
David Precious, Senior Market Analyst at EBC Financial Group, said, “Nigeria’s reserve build is real but may not be durable yet, because nearly all of the new money is the kind that can leave quickly. Of the $10.37 billion that came in over the first quarter, the overwhelming majority was short-term portfolio funds rather than long-term investment, so a shift in oil prices, global interest rates or confidence in the naira might pull a large part of it straight back out.”
Most New Money Can Still Leave Quickly
The composition of the foreign inflows explains the caution over how long the build can last. The country attracted $10.37 billion in foreign investment in the first quarter of 2026, up 83.83 per cent year-on-year, according to the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS). Of that, $9.86 billion or 95.09 per cent, was portfolio money, largely short-term naira debt such as Treasury bills that investors can sell at the next auction, while foreign direct investment, the long-term kind that builds factories and jobs, was $135.08 million, or 1.30 per cent. Put simply, of each dollar coming in, about 95 cents can leave quickly, and barely one cent stays.
That money supports reserves while it stays. Dollars brought in to buy naira assets add to market supply, letting the CBN hold more reserves and steady the naira. It leaves when conditions change. Nigeria earns most of its export dollars from oil and gas, so lower oil prices mean fewer dollars, and as a member of the Organisation of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC), it cannot simply produce more, output capped by quota and reduced by theft and ageing fields. Higher global interest rates draw money toward safer returns abroad, and a weakening naira prompts investors to sell early. When oil fell in 2016 and 2020, foreign investors withdrew and could not convert naira to dollars as supply dried up, leaving the CBN to clear more than $7 billion in trapped obligations into 2024.
The Oil Boost is No Longer Certain
Oil looked like a dependable source of the dollars behind the reserves only months ago. Earlier in 2026, concern over disruption around the Strait of Hormuz lifted crude prices, and stronger receipts flowed in, with crude oil export earnings of $8.11 billion in the first quarter in the CBN’s balance-of-payments data. That support is now easing. The tension has subsided, and Brent traded near $72 on June 29, down about 24 per cent over the month, back to pre-conflict levels. With the price boost gone and output constrained, reserves are more exposed, leaning on non-oil earnings and investor patience rather than oil.
The Naira Still Trades at Two Prices
The naira has traded at two prices, an official rate and a higher parallel-market rate, and closing that gap into one trusted price is what many investors might watch most. Before committing funds, they may want assurance they can convert naira to dollars at a fair rate when they exit, and a wide gap revives the fear of being trapped that lingers from earlier shortages. The gap has narrowed to roughly N20 to N30, with the CBN’s official rate near N1,380 per dollar on June 26 against parallel-market quotes around N1,400. The International Monetary Fund (IMF) 2026 Article IV review urged Nigeria to depend less on this fast-moving portfolio money and to keep phasing out its multiple exchange-rate practices. The CBN’s Foreign Exchange Manual, in force from 1 June, is intended to make the market clearer, though such rules build confidence only once investors can freely trade dollars at the posted rate.
What could Make the Build Durable
A few signs that may show the build turning durable include a smaller gap between the official and street naira rates, more long-term foreign investment, and steadier oil earnings. A gap that stays small, now roughly N20 to N30, may mean investors trust the official rate and no longer need the street market. A clear rise in foreign direct investment, only $135 million last quarter against $9.86 billion of short-term money, might mean lasting capital is replacing funds that can leave at the next auction. Oil earnings that hold up, rather than sliding from the low $70s, should help keep reserves steady, since oil and gas bring in most of Nigeria’s export dollars.
“Reserves built on money chasing high yields can fall as fast as they rose, as they did after the last two oil shocks, when investors left, and the CBN spent years clearing a foreign-exchange backlog,” Precious added. “What holds through a downturn is slower money, direct investment, steady oil and non-oil export earnings and one credible naira rate, and that is the shift Nigeria has yet to make.”
By Olajumoke Bello
Across Nigeria, small and medium enterprises remain the backbone of economic activity. They drive trade, create jobs, and sustain millions of livelihoods. Yet, despite their importance, many SMEs continue to operate below their full potential due to persistent structural challenges.
Access to finance remains one of the most cited constraints. However, the issue today goes beyond the availability of capital. Many businesses struggle with financial readiness, weak documentation, and limited understanding of what lenders require. This often leads to missed opportunities, even when funding options exist.
At the same time, SMEs face gaps in market access and visibility. Business owners operate in highly localised environments, with limited exposure to broader networks that can unlock partnerships, new markets, and growth opportunities. This isolation can constrain scalability and reduce long-term competitiveness.
Equally important is the capability gap. Many entrepreneurs grow through resilience and experience but lack structured knowledge on critical areas such as financial management, export readiness, and digital adoption. Without this, even well-capitalised businesses can struggle to sustain growth.
These challenges point to a clear need for a more practical and integrated approach to SME support. It is no longer sufficient to offer standalone solutions. SMEs require ecosystems that combine knowledge, access, and direct engagement in ways that reflect how they actually operate.
A key shift is the move from centralised interventions to localised engagement. SMEs are deeply influenced by their immediate environments, whether markets, industrial clusters, or trade corridors. Solutions must therefore be brought closer to where these businesses function, allowing for more relevant support and stronger relationships.
Another important shift is from awareness to action. Business owners do not only need information; they need insights that they can apply immediately. This includes understanding how to structure their finances, how to access trade opportunities, and how to connect with the right partners to scale their operations.
There is also a growing need for continuity. Many SME-focused initiatives deliver strong initial impact but lack follow-through. For support to be effective, it must extend beyond one-off engagements into sustained relationships, with clear pathways for onboarding, advisory, and growth.
For financial institutions, this presents both responsibility and an opportunity. Supporting SMEs now requires moving beyond transactional banking to deeper partnership models. It requires understanding businesses at a granular level and co-creating solutions that evolve with their needs.
At Stanbic IBTC, this perspective continues to shape our approach to SME development. Our focus is on delivering practical support that translates into real business outcomes, helping enterprises grow, compete, and contribute more meaningfully to the economy.
As part of this commitment, we are extending our SME engagement to the regions through the Nigeria Business Summit Regional Tour. The tour will take structured, on-ground activations into key commercial hubs, where SMEs can access funding guidance, trade insights, advisory support, and direct engagement with financial experts.
The regional tour will take place across five strategic locations, bringing these solutions closer to business owners in Aba, Onitsha, Ibadan and Kano.
This approach reflects an important principle. When support moves closer to businesses and when solutions are delivered in ways that are practical and continuous, SMEs are better positioned to grow sustainably. In turn, this strengthens not only individual enterprises but the broader economy.
Olajumoke Bello is the Head of Enterprise Banking at Stanbic IBTC Bank
