As Nnewi Expands, Questions Linger: Nnewi Residents Seek Answers on Compensation Amid Road Expansion

 

NNEWI, ANAMBRA STATE — For many in Nnewi, the sight of bulldozers carving through old buildings to make way for a gleaming new dual carriageway has become both a symbol of progress and a source of quiet dread.

The Nnobi–Nnewi–Okija road project, envisioned as a major dual carriageway to link strategic urban centers within Anambra State, is now in full swing. For years, residents and travelers have cried out for a solution to the bottlenecks and crumbling infrastructure that marked this corridor. The construction, long overdue, represents hope for modern connectivity and economic rejuvenation.

But behind the hum of heavy machinery and the clouds of dust rising from demolished structures, a silent question echoes across the affected neighborhoods: Will those whose homes or properties have been sacrificed for this development be compensated?

This concern was recently raised—firmly and publicly—by a resident and concerned citizen, Barrister Charles Ogbonnaya Azotam, known in the community as Ifesinachi. His message, widely circulated on social platforms, reads less like an accusation and more like a heartfelt appeal for transparency and fairness.

"I am once again curious and compelled to ask," he wrote, "hoping that someone amongst us may offer an answer, good or bad."

Azotam's call is not a lone voice. Across several quarters in Nnewi, particularly along the busy axes of the construction site, affected residents have expressed both support for the development and anxiety about the loss of their buildings—some of which are homes, shops, and even ancestral compounds.

Anambra State has recently enjoyed a wave of infrastructural renewal under the administration of Governor Chukwuma Soludo. Projects such as this one are part of his vision for a “smart mega city” and are seen as necessary steps toward modernization. However, the administration has yet to offer a detailed public brief on compensation modalities for this particular road project.

Government officials, in past statements on similar projects, have occasionally affirmed that properties encroaching upon government-acquired road corridors would not be eligible for compensation. Yet, the specifics often remain murky until affected parties begin legal processes or public agitations.

In this context, Azotam’s question is more than rhetorical—it reflects a growing unease among citizens who support development but fear dispossession without redress.

"The ongoing construction is a welcome development, to tush up our modern urban town," Azotam said, using the popular local expression for beautification. "However, I am inclined to ask: are there compensations to owners of the affected buildings presently being demolished?"

The absence of an official public compensation policy has created a gap where rumors and fears fester. Some residents claim to have received notices. Others say their structures were marked and razed without explanation. For those who poured their life savings into these buildings—some built decades ago—hope lies in either government empathy or legal action.

Human rights advocates argue that, under Nigerian law and global urban development best practices, any displacement—whether legal or not—must be addressed through fair and adequate compensation. Particularly in cases where demolitions affect individuals’ primary residences or livelihoods.

As it stands, the government’s silence or ambiguity may ultimately provoke more than just public curiosity—it could ignite legal challenges or delay future projects as citizens become wary of surrendering land without guarantees.

Yet amid all this, there remains a shared hope: that the Anambra government will match its infrastructural ambition with social responsibility. That the image of bulldozers tearing down homes will not remain a metaphor for dreams destroyed, but a necessary sacrifice followed by compassion and justice.

For now, the roads stretch forward, the debris piles up, and the people wait—not just for tarred paths and streetlights—but for answers.