Reported by: Ijeoma G | Edited by: Oravbiere Osayomore Promise.
A 70-year-old blacksmith in Lagos, Olalekan Ashamu Agbede, has been left battered, traumatised, and in financial ruin after he was brutally attacked by suspected land grabbers while returning from his mechanic workshop, an assault he believes was orchestrated by a cleric who allegedly seized his land with the help of military personnel. The attack, which happened on the night of March 26, 2026, along the Adura section of the Lagos-Abeokuta Expressway, has highlighted the dangerous persistence of land grabbing in Nigeria's commercial capital, where powerful individuals are able to operate with impunity, using thugs and sometimes security forces to dispossess vulnerable citizens of their property. Agbede, a blacksmith who bought a piece of land in the Alagbado neighbourhood more than 20 years ago and converted it into a mechanic workshop, has spent weeks recovering from his injuries and is now in debt due to mounting hospital bills. He is now crying out for justice, fearing that he may be killed if he continues to insist on his ownership of the land.
The attack was not a random act of street violence. According to Agbede, as he walked along the dark expressway to catch a bus home, he was set upon by a group of hoodlums who reeked of cannabis. Armed with sticks, iron bars and machetes, they pummelled him without mercy. He initially believed he was being robbed, but his attackers quickly made their motive clear. "They chorused that I had been warned never to contest ownership of my land with a pastor who unlawfully took my land and sold it with the aid of some military men," Agbede told The Nation Newspaper. After the beating, his assailants threw him into a large canal close to the highway and vanished into the darkness. They did not steal anything from him. Their message was not about money; it was about intimidation and fear. "The boys told me in plain terms that I risk death by insisting on my ownership of the land," he added.
The land dispute that led to the attack is rooted in a long-running battle with a cleric identified as Venerable Sunday Sowerun, who runs a Celestial Church of Christ cathedral in the same Ojokoro axis of Lagos. According to Agbede, he purchased the land in 1998 for ₦500,000, properly completed the transaction, and has used the property openly as an auto-mechanic workshop for nearly three decades without any challenge. That calm ended last year when Sowerun allegedly began making moves to take over the land. Agbede claims that the cleric brought officials of the Lagos State Emergency Management Agency (LASEMA) to inspect and measure the property, an action he found puzzling in what he insists is a purely civil ownership matter. When Agbede was later asked to present his ownership documents, the cleric allegedly demanded that he pay money in order to "reclaim" his own land. Agbede refused. Efforts at dialogue broke down. Then, according to Agbede, Sowerun arrived at the land accompanied by soldiers who sealed the property with aluminium sheets, locked it up and ordered all mechanic activities on the site to be halted.
If accurate, the reported involvement of military personnel in a civil land dispute raises serious legal and ethical concerns. Agbede has since filed a formal complaint at the Ijaiye Police Station, but he is not confident that justice will be done. Land grabbing is a widespread problem in Lagos, where "Omo Onile" (land grabbers) operate with relative impunity, and where overlapping customary and statutory land systems frequently lead to violent disputes. Although the Lagos State Government enacted the Properties Protection Law in 2016, which prohibits forceful entry and illegal occupation of landed property and prescribes severe penalties including up to ten years imprisonment, enforcement remains weak. The Lagos State Taskforce has prosecuted some suspected land grabbers, but critics argue that the law is not being applied equally, especially when those accused are wealthy or well-connected. Agbede's case, involving a cleric who may have used military personnel to seal his land, would be a test of the state's commitment to the rule of law.
The physical and financial toll on the 70-year-old man has been immense. Agbede was hospitalised for days after the attack, and as of late April, he had not fully recovered. "As you can see me, I haven't recovered from the attack. I am still in pains. My body aches from the brutality meted out to me by the hoodlums," he told The Nation. He added that he spent a large sum of money on hospital bills and is now in debt. The ironic tragedy is that the workshop on the disputed land is his sole source of livelihood. "I sometimes sleep in one of the shops I built on my land which serve as my workshop where there are other mechanics like panel beaters, automobile electrical technicians and upholstery men," he said. At 70, he has neither the resources nor the physical strength to fight a protracted legal battle, but he has no other option. "I suspect them to be working for a land grabber in the neighbourhood who collaborated with the clergyman to take over my property," he said.
Human rights groups and civil society organisations have called on the Lagos State Government and the police to treat the case with urgency. The Centre for Human and Socio-Economic Rights (CHSR) has previously documented similar cases where land grabbers, sometimes backed by security personnel, have dispossessed vulnerable owners. In this instance, Agbede is not just any property owner; he is a frail septuagenarian whose only crime is insisting on his right to a piece of land he bought with his life savings. The police have not yet issued a formal statement on the case, but Agbede's cry for justice is a test of whether the state can protect its citizens from powerful individuals who use violence and corruption to take what is not theirs.
As Agbede continues to recover from his injuries, the question remains whether the cleric and the hoodlums who attacked him will ever be brought to justice. His attackers vanished into the night, and the soldiers who allegedly sealed his land have not been identified. For now, the 70-year-old blacksmith is left with nothing but pain, debt, and a desperate hope that his story will reach someone who can help. "I don't want to die," he said. "I only want what is mine."
📩 Stone Reporters News | 🌍 stonereportersnews.com
✉️ info@stonereportersnews.com | 📘 Facebook: Stone Reporters News | 🐦 X (Twitter): @StoneReportNew | 📸 Instagram: @stonereportersnews
Add comment
Comments