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Story Publication logo May 1, 2025

Home Sweet Home: Encountering the Mangroves

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An area in Ilashe where some mangroves were destroyed. Image by Damilola Oduolowu. Nigeria, 2024.

I witnessed firsthand the vanishing mangroves, the struggles of fishermen, and the urgent need for awareness and action to protect these vital ecosystems.


Arriving at the Murtala Muhammed International Airport in Lagos on a Sunday morning was so surreal. The peculiar warm breeze, even when it was raining, confirmed to me that I was indeed back in my city. I lived in Lagos all my life before moving to the U.S. in 2022 for my doctorate, and it felt great to be home to cover an important, underreported environmental story.


A view from an airplane window moments after landing at Murtala Muhammed International Airport in Lagos, Nigeria, on a rainy June 30, 2024. Image by Damilola Oduolowu. Nigeria, 2024.

Many environmental and climate change stories are being reported by different news outlets. I have reported on a variety of topics for the BBC, including flooding and pollution. But few have reported on Lagos state's ongoing destruction of mangroves. There are other states in Nigeria facing the same issue, especially in the Niger Delta region, but Lagos stands out.

Lagos is the smallest state in Nigeria in terms of land mass, and it’s mostly surrounded by water. In addition, the coastal city also happens to be the most populous city not just in Nigeria, but in Africa. The impact of the destruction of mangroves would be highly disastrous due to increased coastal vulnerability like erosion and displacement of communities, among other reasons.

Once I landed in Lagos, I visited family and friends, most of whom I did not inform beforehand that I was coming home. Later Sunday night, I traveled an hour to Ikorodu, my hometown, to see my parents. You guessed right—it was a surprise visit! My parents were astonished. Seeing them gave me the extra energy I needed. 


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The next day, Monday, I visited TVC News, one of the media outlets interested in airing my story, to see the news management after weeks of virtual discussions. It was also where I started my career as a professional journalist in 2015. Seeing my former colleagues once more was so special. I spent the rest of the week exchanging emails and speaking to other news outlets, including radio and digital. I talked to all my sources for the story as well to let them know I was in town and planned to start filming the next week. I arranged and confirmed the day and time to film with each source and community. 

One notable source who was not pre-planned was Charles Onyema, a marine biology professor at the University of Lagos. While I was trying to get more experts to speak to, his name was mentioned, and after some research on him, I decided he was a perfect fit. I mentioned him to my friend Spencer, who works at the university, and luckily, he knew the professor. We met him at his office and spoke for almost two hours. Our meeting was re-confirmation that he was a brilliant source for my story.


Journalist Damilola Oduolow on a boat while exploring the mangrove forest in Epe, Lagos. Image by Damilola Oduolowu. Nigeria, 2024.

I also visited my colleagues at the BBC Lagos Bureau, my base for four years, where I last worked as a senior reporter in 2022. I spent most of my time explaining what I came home to do, since they wouldn’t stop asking. They all knew I was away studying for my doctorate in journalism in the United States, and they weren’t expecting me back home just yet. It was a wonderful time checking in to see how they were doing before I got neck-deep into filming.

After meeting everyone I wanted to see and connecting with my sources, I was ready to experience the mangroves firsthand.

In my usual comfortable outfit—shorts and a T-shirt—I visited the Ibeju-Lekki area of Lagos on the following Sunday. I had been speaking to a man called Mufutau. He is a well-known mangrove tour guide. It’s his primary business, which he has been doing for more than four decades. It was inherited from his father.

The driver missed the turn into his community, but I quickly noticed because I was also monitoring the GPS on Google Maps. We turned back, and Mufutau met up with us at the junction. 

After introducing myself and explaining the project I was working on, we negotiated how much it would cost for a canoe I can use to commute through the mangroves to the main coastal communities. I was set to explore the Epe mangrove, one of Lagos' most significant mangroves.

I got on the canoe with Joseph Odeh, my friend and former intern, and Muri Amure, the cameraperson who's also a mentee and friend. I love having people I have worked with on projects like this because it makes the work smoother. Many thanks to the reporting grant from the Pulitzer Center, which helped sort out everything we needed.

It was my first time in that community. As we paddled the canoe to get to the next community through the mangroves, I enjoyed the natural fresh air while Muri and I recorded different takes of my reporting. As we approached the Iba Oloja community, I heard music, which made me wonder what was going on. Apparently, a family was having a funeral, and almost every community member was in attendance. We walked through the event, as it was an outdoor gathering by the street, toward the house of the community's head. 


Members of the Iba Oloja coastal community gather at a funeral. Image by Damilola Oduolowu. Nigeria, 2024.

The community head was also at the event. I eventually interviewed him after he was informed of our presence, and even though there are rich mangroves nearby, people knew little about them.

The next day, I was at an area in Ibeju-Lekki where dredging takes place, and most of the place was sand-filled. The noise of the dredging machine was so loud. My conversation with Steven Salako, who is a fisherman there, was really interesting. The most fascinating thing was that we walked on a large area of land that used to be water, exactly where he used to catch fish. It’s now been sand-filled for the construction of an estate. 


Journalist Damilola Oduolowu, right, interviews Steven Salako where Salako used to fish in Ibeju-Lekki. Image courtesy of Damilola Oduolowu. Nigeria, 2024.

I also visited the Epe fish market, which is one of the most important fish markets in Lagos. This is one location I am very familiar with because I have reported about the market several times before. During my interactions with the fishermen and fish traders, it was clear they knew little about the importance of mangroves. I wondered how much the mangroves would have been protected if people had known better. The question then is, who is to blame for this knowledge gap? 

On Thursday at 11:00am, I, Muri, and a former colleague from TVC News were at the ferry terminal waiting for my source, Akin Disu, to take us to Ilashe. Akin identified Ilashe as one of the most important places to visit for my story. It was raining that morning and didn't stop until 3:00pm. The rain wasn't so heavy, and we could have hopped onto the boat to get to Ilashe, but there was a problem. The boat had no covering, and this meant we would be drenched by the time we got to our destination. I had checked the weather forecast that day but wasn’t sure if it would rain because it’s not usually accurate in Lagos.

While we waited for the rain to stop at a mama put (local Nigerian food) shop by the jetty, my former TVC News colleagues and I chatted about the old days. Esther Omopariola is a news anchor and producer of the environmental program that will air my report, and Mr. Alex was her assigned cameraman. The tempting aroma of the mama put’s food overwhelmed me, and I had to order eba and efo riro


Damilola Oduolowu eats a local dish—eba and efo riro—while waiting to travel by boat to Ilashe. Image courtesy of Damilola Oduolowu. Nigeria, 2024.

The TVC News crew could not wait until 3:00pm, so they left Muri and me with Akin, who was my contact and a key source. Akin works heavily on mangrove preservation in Lagos and has facilitated numerous mangrove education and restoration projects. I went on the boat with him to see some mangrove areas that are gradually being destroyed and places around the coastline that have been completely converted into industrial facilities.

From my conversations with Akin, environmentalist Desmond Majekodunmi, and Professor Charles Onyema, it was clear that Lagos would most likely face the disastrous consequences of climate change if the destruction of mangroves continues at the current rate. It was indeed inspiring to learn about solutions from these experts—and to know what could be done as a matter of urgency in the coastal city. 

This problem isn’t particular to Lagos, as the destruction of mangroves is a global phenomenon. More needs to be done to educate people in local coastal communities, and this involves the collective efforts of government, NGOs, and the media.

One very effective way to draw public attention to some of these environmental issues is for stakeholders to take action. This is what I hope my project will inspire in Lagos, Nigeria.

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