It wasn’t the first time a Nigerian dam broke under pressure—and unless something radically changes, it won’t be the last.
The catastrophic flood in Mokwa that claimed over 200 lives and displaced thousands is a stark, waterlogged testament to Nigeria’s enduring infrastructure neglect. But beyond the statistics and sorrow, this tragedy exposes a bigger issue: a systemic failure to treat dam safety, flood preparedness, and climate resilience as national priorities. In short, Nigeria’s dams may be full, but its policies are bone-dry.
The dam that failed in Mokwa wasn’t just old—it was forgotten. According to a 2022 technical report by the Nigerian Society of Engineers, more than 60% of Nigeria’s small and medium-scale dams were classified as either “under-maintained” or “critically vulnerable.” In some states, officials weren’t even sure how many functioning dams existed. In a country with over 200 large dams and countless smaller ones, that’s a flood waiting to happen.
The typical Nigerian dam follows a sadly predictable life cycle. It’s built, often with foreign loans or donor funds, heralded as a solution to irrigation, power, and water storage. Then it is celebrated in the media, commemorated with plaques, and promptly forgotten. Maintenance becomes someone else’s problem—usually nobody’s.
This neglect is not just a technical issue—it’s a political one. Dams in Nigeria are typically under the jurisdiction of overlapping agencies: the Federal Ministry of Water Resources, the state water boards, and sometimes regional development authorities. When responsibilities overlap, accountability tends to drown.
After every major flood, promises are made. Panels are formed, budgets are proposed, and ambitious blueprints circulate in press releases. In 2018, after devastating floods hit Benue and Kogi States, the federal government launched a National Flood Emergency Preparedness and Response Plan. It vanished somewhere between committee rooms and budget cuts.
Experts argue that Nigeria’s disaster response is reactive rather than proactive. The absence of a real-time dam monitoring system means authorities rely on weather forecasts and luck. A functioning early warning system could have given Mokwa’s residents several hours—perhaps even a day—to evacuate. Instead, they had minutes.
A second problem is funding. In the 2024 national budget, Nigeria allocated just ₦5 billion (approximately $5.5 million) to the maintenance of all water infrastructure nationwide—a figure analysts say is laughably insufficient. Compare that to Ghana, which despite having a smaller economy, committed over $15 million to its dam rehabilitation program last year alone.
Then there’s the climate elephant in the room. West Africa is experiencing increasingly erratic rainfall patterns, longer dry seasons followed by explosive wet spells. When rain finally arrives, it comes with fury. Nigeria’s infrastructure—built in the 1970s and 1980s—is simply not designed to withstand this new normal.
In this context, the Mokwa flood feels less like an exception and more like a warning shot. “We are managing 21st-century disasters with 20th-century tools and a 19th-century mindset,” says Temitope Olaniyan, a civil engineer and dam safety expert. “Every flood is a disaster foretold, and every death is a policy failure.”
But what can be done? Experts recommend an overhaul of Nigeria’s dam management strategy. First, a centralized national dam registry should be established and maintained. This registry would include inspection records, hazard risk ratings, and GPS mapping of all dams—public and private. Second, there should be mandatory annual safety audits, not just dusty engineering reports filed in drawers.
Third, climate adaptation needs to become a cross-sector priority. That means not just building stronger dams, but rethinking where and how people settle. Many Nigerian towns, like Mokwa, are built in low-lying flood plains with no real drainage plans. Urban and rural planning must be guided by hydrological data—not just politics or tradition.
Finally, communication is key. A functioning disaster warning system must include SMS alerts, community radio, and local language messaging, especially in rural areas. It’s not enough to predict the rain—you have to make sure people hear the storm coming.
For now, the people of Mokwa are left with grief and mud. The dead are being buried in mass graves. Children sleep in temporary camps, their routines shattered. Aid groups warn of cholera outbreaks and food shortages if clean water isn’t restored soon.
Still, in a cruel irony, this crisis might finally trigger some overdue reforms. Nigerian lawmakers are reportedly drafting a Dam Safety Bill for emergency fast-tracking, and President Tinubu has ordered an independent inquiry into federal dam oversight failures.
But survivors like Musa Garba remain skeptical. “They will promise, and we will wait,” he says, standing beside the broken shell of his house. “Until another dam breaks somewhere else.”
