From Bodija To The Future: Unlocking Land And Infrastructure For Inclusive Housing – 03/02/2026

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KEYNOTE SPEECH DELIVERED BY HIS EXCELLENCY, PROF. YEMI OSINBAJO, SAN, GCON, THE IMMEDIATE PAST VICE PRESIDENT OF THE FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF NIGERIA AT THE TITLED: “FROM BODIJA TO THE FUTURE: UNLOCKING LAND AND INFRASTRUCTURE FOR INCLUSIVE HOUSING, A REGIONAL AGENDA” AT WEMABOD 2026 REAL ESTATE OUTLOOK ON THE 3^RD OF FEBRUARY, 2026

Protocols

Let me begin by thanking the Board and Management of Wemabod for the very kind invitation extended to me to give this keynote address. In a few short years, WEMABOD has become one of West Africa’s largest real estate companies.

I am especially grateful to my dear brother and friend, Otunba Bimbo Ashiru, the Chair of the Board. He had conveyed this invitation to me possibly over six months ago, but those who know him will agree that not only is he extremely meticulous, but he also will not take no for an answer. He reminded me almost every month since then that I had to be here today!

I believe we can all agree that Odu’a Investment Company and its subsidiary, Wemabod, are unlike most business entities. By virtue of their history and the circumstances of their founding, under the visionary leadership of what is widely regarded as the most progressive government in Nigeria’s history, the Government of the former Western Region. They were conceived with a responsibility that extends beyond commerce. They were shaped to be agents of socio-economic transformation.

This heritage imposes a moral and developmental obligation to create value not merely for a privileged few, but for the wider region and, indeed, the nation as a whole in diverse and enduring ways. For WEMABOD, therefore, real estate cannot be viewed solely through the lens of profit. Housing is not simply a commodity for those who can afford it; it is a powerful instrument of socio-economic transformation, with implications for equity, dignity, and collective prosperity.

It is this deep sense of social responsibility that, in my view, underpins the theme I have been invited to address today: “Unlocking Land and Infrastructure for Inclusive Housing: A Regional Agenda.” However, I have chosen to slightly reframe the title, for reasons that will become clearer as I proceed, so that it now reads: “From Bodija to the Future: Unlocking Land and Infrastructure for Inclusive Housing, A Regional Agenda.”

Across the South West of Nigeria, from Lagos to Ibadan, Abeokuta to Akure, our cities are growing at extraordinary speed. This growth is not accidental. It reflects population dynamics, economic concentration, and increasing regional integration. The real challenge before us is not urbanisation itself, but how it is being managed. Too often, growth is disorderly, exclusionary, and inefficient. Nowhere is this more evident than in housing.

Housing is not merely a social good; it is core economic infrastructure. It shapes how far people travel to work, how much they spend on transport and energy, how cities expand spatially, emit carbon, and whether urbanisation becomes a pathway to opportunity or a mechanism for deepening inequality. Yet housing policy in much of South West Nigeria has been reduced to real estate delivery, largely disconnected from land governance, infrastructure planning, regional coordination, and long-term sustainability.

This was not always the case. In the late 1950s, the Western Region of Nigeria undertook one of the most ambitious and coherent housing experiments on the continent: the Bodija Housing Estate in Ibadan. Bodija was not simply a housing project; it was part of a developmental strategy. It was delivered by the Western Region Housing Corporation, an institution specifically mandated to assemble land, plan neighbourhoods, provide infrastructure, and deliver housing at scale and at different affordability levels.

This institutional clarity and vision were important. Housing delivery was not fragmented across agencies or left to speculative forces. It was embedded in a broader programme that included free primary education, civil service expansion, and regional economic planning. Demand was anticipated, planned for, and deliberately shaped, not reacted to after the fact.

Spatially, Bodija was conceived as a complete neighbourhood, not just a collection of houses. It followed a clear street hierarchy, enforced setbacks and plot ratios, maintained low-rise density, and incorporated green buffers and open spaces. The estate prioritised walkability, ventilation, privacy, and integration rather than isolation.

Crucially, Bodija was well located. It was not pushed to the urban fringe in search of cheap land, but placed close to employment, services, and institutions. This reduced commuting distances and anchored the estate firmly within Ibadan’s economic and social life. The city grew around Bodija; it did not abandon it.

Perhaps Bodija’s most radical achievement was its deliberate social mix. The estate included modest bungalows for lower-income households, semi-detached units for middle-income earners, and larger homes for senior professionals. These were not segregated into enclaves. Teachers lived near senior civil servants; skilled workers shared streets with professionals. Social integration was designed, not accidental.

Equally important was the infrastructure-first approach. Roads, drainage, water supply, electricity, schools, and community facilities were delivered before occupation. Infrastructure was treated as a public good, not a private burden. This quietly subsidised affordability.

When households do not need to self-provide water, power, access roads, and flood protection, the true cost of living falls. This is a lesson we have largely forgotten; infrastructure is the hidden foundation of affordable housing. It is the subsidy that makes inclusion possible.

Let us consider a counterfactual scenario: what if Bodija had not been a one-off? What if, from 1960 onward, South West governments had delivered one Bodija-scale, mixed-income, infrastructure-led district every decade in each major city? By 2020 or by now, the region would contain a network of planned, inclusive neighbourhoods. Informality would still exist, but it would be manageable. Commuting distances would be shorter, transport costs lower, and municipal finances stronger.

The failure was not in design. It was in non-replication. Bodija also offers lessons for climate resilience as far back as that time. Compact low-rise density, building orientation, tree cover, cross-ventilation, and proximity to jobs reduced energy demand, travel distances, and flood risk, without any green branding. Its sustainability was institutional, not technological in any way.

Today, more than sixty years later, Bodija’s urban layout and land values remain resilient and desirable. At the same time, its infrastructure systems have deteriorated significantly due to densification, commercialisation, and decades of underinvestment, a fate common to many government-owned estates. This does not negate Bodija’s success; rather, it underscores the need for continuous reinvestment. The durability of Bodija’s planning framework itself is evidence of the strength of its original conception.

Contrast this with the dominant housing models in South West Nigeria today, and we must admit that this period is also a different political economy. From the late 1980s onward, fiscal stress, structural adjustment, and rapid urbanisation pushed governments out of direct housing delivery. Private developers and ad hoc public–private partnerships filled the gap. Land is now acquired piecemeal from families or speculators. Development is incremental and project-based. Estates are gated, homogeneous, and targeted at narrow income brackets. Location decisions are driven by short-term land cost, not regional urban logic. Most new estates are located on the urban fringe, far from employment centres and poorly served by public transport. The result is longer commuting times, higher transport costs, lost productivity, and rising carbon emissions. Urban sprawl has become the default growth pattern.

Generally, infrastructure is rarely delivered upfront. Instead, households self-provide power through generators, water through boreholes, and access through privately maintained roads. Drainage and waste management are often afterthoughts.

Infrastructure has effectively been privatised at the household level, increasing housing costs and accelerating physical deterioration. Socially, many of the best built and run estates exclude by design. Pricing, location, and form systematically push low and lower-middle-income households out of formal housing markets. Security infrastructure substitutes for social cohesion. We have become efficient at delivering projects, but inefficient at building cohesive, inclusive communities and cities.

But modern private estates get many things right too; it is important to recognise that many private estates have rediscovered one key Bodija principle: infrastructure first. Estates such as Victoria Garden City (VGC), Nicon Town, Royal Gardens, Northern Foreshore Estate, and Friends Colony Estate were built around this logic. Even after 20 years, many retain functional roads, drainage, water supply, and relatively reliable power.

Maintenance of this infrastructure in private estates is financed through service charges paid by residents. In practice, these charges take the place of government rates and taxes, which are designed to fund similar services but are often inefficiently administered.

However, these private estates are expensive precisely because they internalise infrastructure costs. These costs are capitalised into house prices, leaving little or no room for low-income households. Inclusion becomes structurally impossible. The government-developed Festac Town, despite infrastructure failure, remains a powerful example of inclusive design. Again, infrastructure failure is on account of the poor maintenance affliction of government-built estates.

On the other hand, government estates such as Abijo or Lekki Phase II, where infrastructure provision was partial or delayed, and locations were distant from employment centres, often became sites of speculation. Allottees held land without building, waiting for appreciation. This highlights the importance of enforcing “use it or lose it” principles. Land should not be a parking lot for speculation; it must serve housing needs.

The point to be made about the difference between Bodija and contemporary estates is not architectural; it is institutional and ideological. Bodija followed a clear sequence: planning first, infrastructure next, housing last. Bodija benefited from public land assembly, unified planning authority, and socialised infrastructure costs.

Today, land ownership is fragmented, transaction costs are high, coordination is weak, and infrastructure costs are individualised. Bodija institutionalised inclusion through design and allocation. Modern estates institutionalise exclusion through pricing, location, and gating.

Bodija was built with a 30 – 50 year time horizon. Many modern estates are optimised for quick sales cycles, not long-term urban performance. Housing shifted from being a public development tool to a private asset class. When housing is perceived from that perspective alone, and the government doesn’t intervene to change that approach, then you have this sort of situation where inclusive housing simply doesn’t exist.

Land and Infrastructure are two binding constraints in the unlocking of inclusive housing. Land scarcity in South West cities is not physical; it is institutional. The constraints are fragmented customary ownership, slow and costly titling, speculative land banking, and weak metropolitan coordination. The Land Use Act was intended to democratise access to land, but in practice, it has centralised discretion, increased transaction costs, and discouraged large-scale inclusive development.

Infrastructure is the second binding constraint we have in inclusive housing. Housing affordability is not just about construction cost; it is about the cost of living. When households self-finance power, water, sanitation, and access to different services, affordability collapses. In Bodija, infrastructure was shared public capital. Today, it is often a private burden.

Perhaps the way forward is properly planned Public–Private Partnerships. Governments control land and can deliver bulk infrastructure at scale. Private developers bring execution capacity, capital, and market discipline. When States provide land at subsidised rates, coordinate infrastructure delivery, fast-track approvals, and enforce inclusionary conditions, mixed-income housing becomes viable. Inclusive housing works when Infrastructure comes first, and development is then coordinated.

South West Nigeria already functions as a mega-region. Housing, labour, and transport markets are integrated, yet planning remains fragmented. Inclusive housing requires a regional agenda that would involve coordinated land release, aligned infrastructure corridors, and shared standards. There is a lot to unpack here that we cannot do in the allotted 20 minutes!

What Must Be Done?

Firstly, states in the region must return to proactive land banking and pooled land assembly in order to guide urban growth strategically rather than reactively. By acquiring and assembling land in advance, public authorities can reduce speculation, lower development costs, and ensure that future growth aligns with long-term planning objectives.

Secondly, infrastructure provision must lead, rather than follow, urban expansion, with transport, utilities, and social services put in place early to shape sustainable and well-connected communities. Within this framework, inclusionary zoning should be mandatory in large housing estates to ensure a consistent supply of affordable housing and promote social, but you know, such requirements are only fair and workable when delivered through structured public-private collaboration, in which risks, costs, and benefits are shared and developers are supported by clear rules, upfront infrastructure and coordinated public investment.

Thirdly, housing corporations should act as land assemblers and master planners, not just builders.

Fourthly, housing finance must match what people actually earn, not rising property prices. This can be done through blended approaches that mix government support, low-interest loans, and private investment to lower costs and risks. Employer-backed schemes and housing cooperatives can help keep prices tied to real incomes. It is especially important to include informal workers who do not have regular salaries, using flexible repayment schedules, alternative income verification (such as mobile money or cooperative contributions), and group lending systems.

Combined with phased housing development and targeted subsidies, these strategies make homes affordable and accessible to both formal and informal workers, supporting a fairer and more resilient urban system.

I have heard it said many times that it is difficult for the government to provide housing. But the truth of the matter is that State Governments who control the land can certainly provide housing if the political will to do so exists. I was saying to Otunba Bimbo Ashiru that I went to Borno State 5 times as Vice President to commission Housing Projects. The Governor (Prof. Zulum) at the time in three and a half years, had built close to 15,000 housing units. Borno State is one of the poorest States in terms of internally generated revenue and federal allocation. I saw the buildings myself. It is possible with the private sector, introducing market disciplines, governments, if they wish, can provide social housing using the sort of model Bodija provided us.

Perhaps the only government that can outstrip what Governor Zulum did is probably the Jakande Housing Estate, which was in excess of 15,000. It is possible and a matter of political will.

In Nigeria, the management of land has long been constrained by fragmented records, overlapping claims, and bureaucratic delays. To unlock efficient urban development, land records must be fully digitized, creating a transparent and accessible database of ownership, boundaries, and usage rights. Digital titling would reduce disputes, prevent double allocation, and provide a reliable foundation for investment, lending, and planning.

At the same time, processes for land acquisition must be streamlined, with clear legal frameworks, simplified documentation, and predictable timelines to encourage both private sector participation and public infrastructure development.

By modernising land administration, we can reduce corruption, enhance tenure security for homeowners and developers, and support proactive land banking and urban expansion strategies that are well-coordinated with infrastructure delivery.

Let me conclude by reminding us that Bodija tells us that inclusive, sustainable housing is not utopian. It is a policy choice and a matter of political will. South West Nigeria does not lack land, capital, or expertise. What it lacks is a coherent regional vision that treats housing as the backbone of urban development.

The question is no longer whether we know what to do. It is whether we are prepared to do what we need to do.

Thank you very much.