The Harsh Reality of Ethiope East: When Oil Wealth Doesn’t Translate to Human Development

Ladies and gentlemen, what you see in these images is not a remote corner of Nigeria. It is Ethiope East Local Government Area—a land blessed with some of the finest crude oil in the country, yet cursed with some of the harshest living conditions imaginable.

Our communities sit on top of a resource that powers the Nigerian economy, yet we remain among the most underdeveloped and environmentally damaged people in the nation. How did we get here?

The Law That Took Our Land but Not Our Burden

By Nigerian law, the land belongs to state governments. That is why governors issue Certificates of Occupancy. But the mineral resources beneath that land? They belong to the Federal Government.

This single legal structure has stripped the original owners of the land, we the indigenes—of any right to explore the crude oil beneath our feet. It is a powerful example of how law can both empower and silence.

The 1999 Constitution states clearly in Section 1(3) that if any law is inconsistent with the Constitution, the Constitution must prevail. We accept this. But what happens when what is “constitutional” still leaves citizens powerless?

From Fertile Farmlands to Abandoned Homeland

Our farmlands were taken over by oil companies. We moved. Some relocated to faraway bushes in Edo, Ekiti, and beyond in search of land to farm.

We surrendered our fertile soil so Nigeria could benefit from our resources. But what did we receive in return?

A Promise Broken: Section 16(2b)

The Constitution states that “The material resources of the nation shall be harnessed and distributed to serve the common good.” Is that our reality?

If you live in Abuja, I challenge you: can you find a neighborhood as polluted, as neglected, or as devastated as Ethiope East? Our environment carries the burden of national wealth, yet our lives carry none of its blessings.

A Silent Health Crisis

The rise in cancer cases across Urhobo communities is alarming. Hydrocarbons released into the air travel over long distances and many of them are carcinogenic.

Yet, despite decades of oil extraction, there is no standard cancer center to help our people. Our elders, fathers, mothers, and children face health risks alone.

Who will speak for us?

A Local Government Left Behind

Walk through Ethiope East and you will find dilapidated schools, unstable telecommunications networks, dysfunctional roads, politicians with big titles but little impact, and social media aides paid peanuts to defend failed leadership.

These are not the signs of a region benefiting from Nigeria’s economic engine. They are the signs of neglect-deep, deliberate, systemic neglect.

2027: A Year of Reckoning

Our people have suffered enough. Our land has given more to Nigeria than Nigeria has given back. 2027 is not just another election year. It is a year of reckoning. A year for truth. A year for accountability. A year for restoration.

The fight for dignity, health, justice, and development is not a fight for one man. It is a fight for all of us, every Urhobo son and daughter who believes our land deserves better.