Abuja’s Environment: The Cost of Greed and Political Arrogance

 Green areas in Abuja are being sacrificed for short‑term gains, notes GODWIN SOGOLO

In more rational societies, media—whether print or electronic, traditional or modern—are respected as guardians of public values and the collective interest. That was largely true in Nigeria before the erosion of institutional standards and public accountability. In such societies, when a reputable media organisation adopts an editorial position on a matter of national importance, it is regarded not merely as the opinion of a newspaper but as a considered reflection of informed public sentiment. Sadly, many political leaders in Nigeria pay scant attention to newspapers and the important public issues they raise, largely because many seldom read them. Those who do but choose to dismiss their editorial interventions often do so at their own peril.

Such, for instance, is The Guardian editorial of Tuesday, June 2, 2026, titled: “Tackling Abuja’s Disappearing Green Shield for a Balanced Ecosystem.” The editorial decried the Federal Capital Territory (FCT) Administration for its continued violation of the Abuja Master Plan, particularly through the conversion of designated green areas into residential, commercial, and other revenue‑generating uses. It warned that these encroachments were degrading the city’s ecological balance and inflicting lasting and potentially irreversible environmental damage.

The issues raised extend far beyond any individual office‑holder. Indeed, they involved successive FCT administrations since the inception of the City in 1976. They are of serious concern for the future of Abuja itself, which was conceived not merely as Nigeria’s administrative capital but as a carefully planned urban environment in which development, aesthetics, and ecology would co‑exist in harmony. The green belts, parks, buffer zones, and open spaces incorporated into the Abuja Master Plan were never intended as decorative luxuries. They were integral components of an environmental vision designed to protect the city from the congestion, pollution, flooding, and unregulated expansion that have afflicted many urban centres across the developing world.

Unfortunately, successive administrations treated these environmental safeguards as expendable. They have increasingly been viewed not as public assets to be preserved, but as commercial opportunities awaiting exploitation. Land originally reserved for ecological protection has gradually yielded to residential estates, office complexes, shopping centres, and other revenue‑generating ventures. The driving forces are not difficult to identify: greed, short‑term thinking, and the relentless pursuit of quick financial returns. The consequence is a city steadily drifting away from the vision of its founders.

It is against this background that the performance of the present FCT Administration must be assessed. Undoubtedly, considerable effort has been devoted to infrastructure development. Roads are being constructed and rehabilitated, public facilities upgraded, and Abuja projected as a visible symbol of governmental achievement. Yet development that compromises environmental sustainability ultimately defeats its own purpose. No city can indefinitely consume its ecological assets without eventually paying a heavy price.

Environmental degradation is often gradual and therefore deceptively easy to ignore. Trees disappear one cluster at a time; green buffers shrink parcel by parcel, and open spaces are converted plot by plot. The cumulative consequences become evident only years later in the form of rising temperatures, more frequent flooding, deteriorating air quality, loss of biodiversity, and declining quality of urban life. By then, restoration is invariably more difficult and far more expensive than preservation would have been.

The real issue, therefore, is not whether development should occur, but whether it should occur at the expense of the environmental principles upon which Abuja was founded. The choice is not between development and conservation. It is between sustainable development and reckless expansion.

There is also the matter of the prolonged closure of the IBB International Golf and Country Club following internal disputes within its management. For some of us – ordinary retirees with little interest in mansions, estates, or the pursuit of political influence – the Club provides a welcome space for recreation, social interaction, and the occasional round of golf. Yet beyond the inconvenience suffered by members, the closure of the Club has highlighted a broader issue: the importance of preserving green recreational spaces within an increasingly congested city.

Across the world, modern cities recognise golf courses, parks, gardens, and other open spaces as valuable environmental assets that contribute to public health, ecological balance, and urban livability. In Abuja, where pressure on land continues to intensify, such spaces are becoming increasingly precious. The closure of the Club has therefore reinforced concerns about the vulnerability of recreational and environmental spaces in a city where developmental and political considerations often shadow ecological concerns.

Ultimately, the matter is larger than the ambitions, achievements, or shortcomings of any individual politician. Ministers will come and go. Governments will rise and fall. Political alliances will be formed and dissolved. Abuja, however, will remain.

The question, therefore, is what kind of capital city we intend to bequeath to future generations of Nigerians. Will Abuja remain faithful to the environmental vision embedded in its Master Plan, or will it become yet another example of a carefully designed city gradually overwhelmed by commercial pressures and political expediency?

That is why The Guardian editorial deserves serious attention. It is not merely an environmental warning; it is a warning about governance itself. When green areas are sacrificed for short‑term gains, societies often discover too late that what has been lost cannot easily be restored.

Abuja’s environment is not merely a collection of trees, parks, and open spaces. It is an essential part of the city’s identity and one of the foundations of its livability. Protecting it is not an act of sentimentality. It is a responsibility owed to future generations of Nigerians

 Sogolo is an Emeritus Professor who has taught and conducted research in Philosophy for over five decades – at the Cardiff University of Wales, University of Ibadan and currently at the National Open University of Nigeria. He also served as a member of the Editorial Board of The Guardian Newspapers in the 1980s and 1990s.