Posted by By TESSY OKOYE on
Aboru, a community tucked away from the boisterous activities of Lagos, presents a pathetic picture of a vibrant neighbourhood almost made desolate by nature and neglect. As you stroll about the community that lies between Abesan and Mosun, Iyana-Ipaja area of the state, you see the raw beauty of nature. But that scenery immediately disappears, like mist in sunlight, when you consider certain environmental factors.
• Residents of Aboru, a Lagos suburb, cry out over govt neglect
Aboru, a community tucked away from the boisterous activities of Lagos, presents a pathetic picture of a vibrant neighbourhood almost made desolate by nature and neglect. As you stroll about the community that lies between Abesan and Mosun, Iyana-Ipaja area of the state, you see the raw beauty of nature. But that scenery immediately disappears, like mist in sunlight, when you consider certain environmental factors.
This community is almost an inch away from civilization as it lacks basic amenities, such as good roads, hospitals, markets and a police station.
The problems in the community begin to manifest as you enter Aboru from the Abeokuta Expressway. The short, bumpy ride leaves your body in pains. Immediately after veering off the tarred road from Pleasure Bus Stop, a motorist would only enjoy some minutes of comfort before he or she hit the rough terrain. The road has been rendered almost impassable by erosion. Gaping holes and craters have become permanent features on the only accessible road in the community. At the moment, other secondary roads at Aboru are non existent.
Gradually dealing a deadly blow on the community is a widening canal with murky waters flowing from Ejigbo, Idimu, and Egbeda to Odo Iya-alaro, where it empties into the Lagos Lagoon. Apart from the offensive odour that oozes from the channel, it is regarded a harbinger of evil because of lives that it has claimed in the past. The deep canal, which snakes through the community, is almost concealed by thick shrubs and thicket. For the residents of the sleepy suburb, the world has abandoned them to their fate and they would readily regale any visitor with tales of woes and anguish.
Alhaji Hassan Onilekere's house, at Aboru, is currently under threat of collapse, its foundation is already exposed to the canal erosion. He disclosed that residents have resorted to communal efforts to save their community from being swept away. He said despite building barriers to reduce the speed of water flowing into the channel, residents still flee their homes at the slightest sign of rain.
"The sloppiness of the area makes it prone to flood from higher areas as water tends to flow, pushing everything in its path into the canal. The rainy season is our worst enemy. Apart from fear of flood, we are scared of being swept into the waterway," he lamented.
He was said to be even lucky. Tope Ayoade has not been that fortunate in her family house, though she has always escaped with members of her family during the frequent flooing of the area. She disclosed that since her home is closer to the water channel, she had lost everything and even the house before others had an inkling of what was happening. She, however, pleaded with the state government to expedite action on dredging of the canal to rid it of silt.
Lack of access road and a seeming exclusion from the Lagos map are not the only threats facing the quiet community. Almost cut off from other parts of the state by the absence of a functional road, the only bridge linking it with the outside world is wooden hastily put together across the canal by an individual in the community. A walk or ride on it is not free though. Commuters on the wooden contraption have to cough N20 toll per trip, regardless of the number of times the short journey is made. The money, Daily Sun learnt, is for constant maintenance of the ‘bridge'.
According to Prince Olabanji Orioye, the man, who constructed the link, the wooden bridge was first erected in 2005 after the access road became impassable, no thanks to erosion. He disclosed that the bridge, which serves as a short cut to other areas, plays a significant role during fuel scarcity and other civil disturbances.
"People rely more on this passage. School children benefit more from this bridge than anybody. The money realized here is barely enough to keep this bridge in good shape. In the rainy season, the bridge is submerged and becomes too dangerous for people, especially children to pass. At such a time, I would go into the swamp to raise the bridge above water level. The selfless service I am rendering here does not, in any way, alleviate the suffering of residents. Government should do something more for its citizens," he pleaded.
More saddened by the state of the community is the Baale of Aboru, Salaudeen Bamgbopa Akinde Aboru, a man whose gait is bent, owing to worries on the plight of his community than age. With a forlorn look and a wrinkled brow, the community head told Daily Sun that his heart bleeds everyday for the community's continued neglect. The traditional ruler, who is in his late 70s was also irked by the fact that there is no market that serves the area.
"People go as far as Iyana-Ipaja to buy food seasonings and other smaller food items. It is unfortunate that my people are made to suffer this way. These are things that should ordinarily be sourced in a market within the area. Must I sacrifice my life before the state government would fulfil its responsibility to us?" He asks rhetorically, even as he blames the community's problem on covetous people.
His words: "For 22 years, we had a flourishing market patronized by people from far and near. But that market is no more. After it was destroyed because it was too close to the pipeline, we could not replace the structures. We are aware that democracy is meant to usher in infrastructural change, but Aboru is yet to witness any.
"When Governor Raji Fashola was going round the state on inspection, providence made him pass through this area. He saw our plight and promised to do something about it. At the end of the day, he gave approval for the construction of roads and drainage but Aboru was excluded."
Raising alarm over the danger posed by the canal during rainy season, the Baale says: "We have lost people, swept into the canal when it rains. My palace usually serves as a temporary shelter for people who are scared of being swept away by strong current. The community, on its part, has tried. My only prayer is that God should touch the heart of the state government to save us from being washed away one day."
Sitting close to the traditional ruler all the while was his wife, who immediately launched into a tale of how the community has been marginalized.
"We are the first set of market women in Lagos State," she boasted, adding: "We had our market before Ketu market came into existence. When Iya Mogaji was installed as the Iyaloja of Lagos State, we were the ones who danced for her. I don't see why we should be left to suffer this way."
Decrying the situation of things in the area, she says the only government hospital the community can lay claim to was an infirmary that cannot pass for a road side store.
"There are no drugs or medical personnel in the place. How long are we going to live like slaves in a country where we pay tax and tenement rates? I believe we deserve a better life."