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Utako: The last slum standing?
Is it the last slum standing? And it is right in the heart of the Federal Capital Territory nestled in the fast growing nouveau rich neigbourhood that bears the same name. Like all slums, it is an eye sore to behold with stench-reeking, stagnated pool of black puddles running right through peoples’ cardboard-like houses. The squalid environment is a haven for social miscreants, prostitutes and their likes. The children, mostly looking gaunt and malnourished are most times playing on the huge garbage heap just a door step away. Our Managing Editor, Imiewanlan Oyakhire explores the living conditions of the residents and their fate given the construction of a General Hospital less than 50 metres from the ‘village.’ His report:
A serving senior Police officer once, unofficially, described Abuja as a magical city. It was just his expressive way of describing what he termed ‘artificial lifestyle’ in the Federal Capital Territory: where everything is assumed to be all right even at their very unpleasing state.
Take for instance accommodation, which defiles all known economic theory and market forces of demand and supply. There are unoccupied beautiful mansions and expansive estates everywhere occupied only by rodents and reptiles; yet, accommodation in Abuja for the ordinary man is unavailable. Availability is a factor of your capacity to afford and your affordability determines where you live. Where you live is, by and large, dependent on your economic power.
Like several other major capital cities in the world, Abuja in terms of accommodation is costly and naturally, it segregates, filtering the economically privileged from the not-so-privileged. The unfortunate, in this context, are often relegated to remote settlements, villages and satellites towns and slums.
As sure as natural laws in the affairs of men, it is also natural with the evolution of cities that it filters its inhabitants given the economic criteria. But a community, by its strange existence in a unique location, seems to have defiled that economic posit. The community is in Utako, a slum, but its ‘owners’ say it is a village, set in the heart of Abuja city.
Squashed in between a network of roads on all four sides, Obafami Awolowo, Augustus Aikhomu, Okonjo Iweala Way and Ajose Adeogun Close, the village covers less ten thousand square meters and a dense population of about three thousand people.
Its apparent existence in such a unique location catches attention that one would be prodded to ask, how has the community survived, without being ejected; not even in the restructuring and demolition years of Mallam Nasir el-Rufi’a, the no nonsense former FCT minister?
The secretary to the village, Chief Danjuma Daniel, Dansamani of Utako, whom the Etsu of Utako, Chief Audu Isah authourised to speak on behalf of the community to our correspondent said: “Well this is where we inherited. It is not easy for people to come and say move out from your inheritance. And when you move, where are you moving to? It is where we grew. It is where we met our elders and our parents.”
Though a unique village, due to its strange spot, it has the characteristics of a typical rural village setting, and even some peculiarity to it. Utako village is distinctively squalid and the pattern of unorganized and crammed buildings underlines this. No roads, no streets, residents junket through channels of footpaths that interlink the houses. The houses are borderless; each compound runs into another uninhibited. There are many footpaths as there are houses. However, no matter the footpath you trek, it surely leads you to somewhere!
The community is rich in gutters. Channels of dirty water flow freely from the compounds to no known destination while contents on the routes lay bare, stagnant in the open. The contents come in an assortment of forms as the lifestyle of each compound and nature of business transactions in the compounds that pass as both suburban and marketplace. To an unfamiliar person or visitor to the community, the atmosphere at first appeal, looks hazardous: polluted with mix of noises from grinding machines, vehicles and carbon monoxide from the always busy roads and the waste water from both bath, commercial and household use. The dangerous nature of the pathetic health situation can be felt from a distance from the village. Opposite the community, at Arab contractors end, is an open field that forever oozes foul odour of human waste. This is the foremost clear sign, even if you have not come within the reach of Utako village that a community without toilet facilities live close by. According to David Olovi, a resident, “we live here because we don’t have another place. But Business here is good.” Business, as operational in the village, is basically trading in articles and wares. The village’s core business attractiveness is in the sale of alcohol of various brands at various drinking spots. Food, as Pap (akamu), fried beans cake (kose) and fried yam are exceptionally cheap.
There is also a boom in sex trade. Though there are no hotels in the village, several prostitutes, due to the community’s strategic location and cheap rent, reside there. While in the day (especially early mornings), the village goes to sleep, it’s really awake in the night with a lot of activities that is easily noticeable even from a distance. Cars of various brands are parked at the sideways of its surrounding roads. The number of cars parked is a reflection of the number of night visitors to Utako village and those residing there. In a typical evening, there is hardly a space unoccupied for any other cars to park.
Filthy and foul as the community is, yet it attracts a lot of residents due to its cheap accommodation. Given its centrality in the heart of Utako district, N4000 per room, though makeshift, in a month charge is considered cheap. In a normal Utako going rate, a three bedroom flat goes for between N800, 000 to N850,000 depending on the quality of the house and the discretions of the owner. While a one bedroom goes for about N350,000. The accommodation, whether normal or abnormal both provide residents quick access to Abuja districts. In Utako village, landlords make brisk businesses from horrible and uninhabitable huts and improvised houses. Shockingly, the demand for accommodation in the village is on the increase: demand is higher than supply. To meet ever increasing demand and the business opportunities it brings, landlords resort to creating extended rooms known as “attachment”, made mainly of planks called and zinc.
The continued existence of these business opportunities for the community is being threatened. There are plans by AMAC to relocate the village to another settlement. There is a conflict as to whether if AMAC is indeed ready for this relocation or the villagers are unwilling to move. To Sule Shekolo, “the villagers are not ready to leave because of the business they do”. But the secretary countered, declaring the community’s willingness to relocate but wants government to “do what pleases us”. “The social amenities that are supposed to be done let it be done”. He clarified.
The community caught between a network of roads will soon truly be at crossroads. AMAC is erecting a public hospital on their land. This has further eroded their land space, their means of livelihood, and the business on their strategic land. With more developmental project like this, will the villagers be forced to relocate to their new settlement?
Is it the last slum standing? And it is right in the heart of the Federal Capital Territory nestled in the fast growing nouveau rich neigbourhood that bears the same name. Like all slums, it is an eye sore to behold with stench-reeking, stagnated pool of black puddles running right through peoples’ cardboard-like houses. The squalid environment is a haven for social miscreants, prostitutes and their likes. The children, mostly looking gaunt and malnourished are most times playing on the huge garbage heap just a door step away. Our Managing Editor, Imiewanlan Oyakhire explores the living conditions of the residents and their fate given the construction of a General Hospital less than 50 metres from the ‘village.’ His report:
A serving senior Police officer once, unofficially, described Abuja as a magical city. It was just his expressive way of describing what he termed ‘artificial lifestyle’ in the Federal Capital Territory: where everything is assumed to be all right even at their very unpleasing state.
Take for instance accommodation, which defiles all known economic theory and market forces of demand and supply. There are unoccupied beautiful mansions and expansive estates everywhere occupied only by rodents and reptiles; yet, accommodation in Abuja for the ordinary man is unavailable. Availability is a factor of your capacity to afford and your affordability determines where you live. Where you live is, by and large, dependent on your economic power.
Like several other major capital cities in the world, Abuja in terms of accommodation is costly and naturally, it segregates, filtering the economically privileged from the not-so-privileged. The unfortunate, in this context, are often relegated to remote settlements, villages and satellites towns and slums.
As sure as natural laws in the affairs of men, it is also natural with the evolution of cities that it filters its inhabitants given the economic criteria. But a community, by its strange existence in a unique location, seems to have defiled that economic posit. The community is in Utako, a slum, but its ‘owners’ say it is a village, set in the heart of Abuja city.
Squashed in between a network of roads on all four sides, Obafami Awolowo, Augustus Aikhomu, Okonjo Iweala Way and Ajose Adeogun Close, the village covers less ten thousand square meters and a dense population of about three thousand people.
Its apparent existence in such a unique location catches attention that one would be prodded to ask, how has the community survived, without being ejected; not even in the restructuring and demolition years of Mallam Nasir el-Rufi’a, the no nonsense former FCT minister?
The secretary to the village, Chief Danjuma Daniel, Dansamani of Utako, whom the Etsu of Utako, Chief Audu Isah authourised to speak on behalf of the community to our correspondent said: “Well this is where we inherited. It is not easy for people to come and say move out from your inheritance. And when you move, where are you moving to? It is where we grew. It is where we met our elders and our parents.”
Though a unique village, due to its strange spot, it has the characteristics of a typical rural village setting, and even some peculiarity to it. Utako village is distinctively squalid and the pattern of unorganized and crammed buildings underlines this. No roads, no streets, residents junket through channels of footpaths that interlink the houses. The houses are borderless; each compound runs into another uninhibited. There are many footpaths as there are houses. However, no matter the footpath you trek, it surely leads you to somewhere!
The community is rich in gutters. Channels of dirty water flow freely from the compounds to no known destination while contents on the routes lay bare, stagnant in the open. The contents come in an assortment of forms as the lifestyle of each compound and nature of business transactions in the compounds that pass as both suburban and marketplace. To an unfamiliar person or visitor to the community, the atmosphere at first appeal, looks hazardous: polluted with mix of noises from grinding machines, vehicles and carbon monoxide from the always busy roads and the waste water from both bath, commercial and household use. The dangerous nature of the pathetic health situation can be felt from a distance from the village. Opposite the community, at Arab contractors end, is an open field that forever oozes foul odour of human waste. This is the foremost clear sign, even if you have not come within the reach of Utako village that a community without toilet facilities live close by. According to David Olovi, a resident, “we live here because we don’t have another place. But Business here is good.” Business, as operational in the village, is basically trading in articles and wares. The village’s core business attractiveness is in the sale of alcohol of various brands at various drinking spots. Food, as Pap (akamu), fried beans cake (kose) and fried yam are exceptionally cheap.
There is also a boom in sex trade. Though there are no hotels in the village, several prostitutes, due to the community’s strategic location and cheap rent, reside there. While in the day (especially early mornings), the village goes to sleep, it’s really awake in the night with a lot of activities that is easily noticeable even from a distance. Cars of various brands are parked at the sideways of its surrounding roads. The number of cars parked is a reflection of the number of night visitors to Utako village and those residing there. In a typical evening, there is hardly a space unoccupied for any other cars to park.
Filthy and foul as the community is, yet it attracts a lot of residents due to its cheap accommodation. Given its centrality in the heart of Utako district, N4000 per room, though makeshift, in a month charge is considered cheap. In a normal Utako going rate, a three bedroom flat goes for between N800, 000 to N850,000 depending on the quality of the house and the discretions of the owner. While a one bedroom goes for about N350,000. The accommodation, whether normal or abnormal both provide residents quick access to Abuja districts. In Utako village, landlords make brisk businesses from horrible and uninhabitable huts and improvised houses. Shockingly, the demand for accommodation in the village is on the increase: demand is higher than supply. To meet ever increasing demand and the business opportunities it brings, landlords resort to creating extended rooms known as “attachment”, made mainly of planks called and zinc.
The continued existence of these business opportunities for the community is being threatened. There are plans by AMAC to relocate the village to another settlement. There is a conflict as to whether if AMAC is indeed ready for this relocation or the villagers are unwilling to move. To Sule Shekolo, “the villagers are not ready to leave because of the business they do”. But the secretary countered, declaring the community’s willingness to relocate but wants government to “do what pleases us”. “The social amenities that are supposed to be done let it be done”. He clarified.
The community caught between a network of roads will soon truly be at crossroads. AMAC is erecting a public hospital on their land. This has further eroded their land space, their means of livelihood, and the business on their strategic land. With more developmental project like this, will the villagers be forced to relocate to their new settlement?
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