Does Lagos Have an Architectural Identity Crisis?
The architectural identity of Lagos is at a crossroads. It got there on the back of urbanization and economic growth. While these major influences have led to remarkable development, they have eroded the spirit of place in Lagos. Is this a problem or an opportunity?
When you think about Lagos, what comes to your mind? Do you see the night lights of Civic Towers in Victoria Island, rising high against the background of the crumbling facades of colonial relics in Lagos Island? Perhaps you remember the rambling alleys of Mushin with their unrelenting energy and makeshift structures, making you wonder if gravity works in Lagos. Possibly, your memory of Lagos is only of Ikoyi’s gated opulence, which tells of Lagos as the centre of excellence. Makoko’s floating slums drifting in forgotten waters, hanging between survival and neglect, might also come to mind. Perhaps memory takes you to Alausa, and you see the old and new government edifices speaking both of modern Lagos as much as of the city’s past. Maybe memory lane takes you to Agege, where concrete boxes sprout wantonly, their forms as unplanned as the streets they shape.
Lagos’s architecture is varied and historically specific. Every part of the city tells a different story in its architectural composition and identity. They are like choristers singing different voices all at once. With little harmony, Lagos, with its vibrant chaos, appears to lack a unifying architectural soul. The city’s modern architectural identity struggles to counterbalance the yearning for global modernity with the weight of its cultural roots and its diverse historical influences, leaving behind a cityscape where innovation and technological advancements fail to blend with the spirit of place.
WHAT ONCE WAS
From the British annexation of Lagos in August 1861, and its eventual declaration as a colony in March 1862, to current times, the architecture of Lagos has developed on different strata of architectural styles as well as cultural and socio-political influences. A few decades before the declaration of the Lagos colony in 1862, the Agudas (emancipated Afro-Brazilian slaves) and the Saros (freed slaves from Sierra Leone) in the 1830s started returning to Lagos. They brought with them Brazilian baroque architecture and Portuguese architecture that defined the vernacular architecture of Lagos.
The vernacular architecture derived from the building expertise of the Agudas and the Saros created an architectural identity that responded efficiently to the tropical climate and reflected the Yoruba culture in its organization through the incorporation of traditional courtyard design (àgbò-ilé) and the use of ornate stucco designs that showcased Yoruba cultural motifs. Examples of these are the Shitta Bay Mosque and Da Rocha’s Water House, built in 1892 and 1875, respectively. The compatibility of this vernacular style with the Yoruba people caused its rapid spread to other parts of Yoruba land. This vernacular architecture style still holds prominence in historic Yoruba cities like Ibadan, Ile-Ife, and Ijebu-Ode.
As a major hub for colonial administration, Lagos was a strategic nodal point in the British imperial project within Africa that resulted in increased need for public infrastructure. This need was met with the emergence of colonial architecture featuring gothic and neoclassical features, which still survive in the old secretariat building in Marina. After the Second World War in 1945, modern architecture gained wide prominence globally and arrived in Africa as tropical modernism in the 1950s through the works of Maxwell Fry and Jane Drew, pioneering British architects renowned for their application of tropical modernism in the design of the University of Ibadan. Post-independence architecture developed by indigenous Nigerian architects in Lagos also followed the modernist style. Notwithstanding the different styles that existed at the time, pre-independence Lagos maintained a cohesive architectural language; the same can be said of the period immediately after independence. However, as decades go by, Lagos struggles to keep its architectural identity and preserve its cultural heritage as it grapples with modernization and urbanization.
THE CONTEMPORARY WHITE AND GREY ARCHITECTURE
With increasing globalization in the early 1990s and at the dawn of the 21st century, building materials like steel, aluminum and other sleek finishing materials became more accessible and affordable as low-grade versions of them scaled in production. Additionally, increased travel and migration from urban centres like Lagos to the West saw a growing captivation with ‘modern’ and sleek buildings. As many of such travellers and migrants returned to Nigeria, they requested the architects to reproduce what they saw abroad, producing the contemporary modern design most new developments in Lagos take.
This style, largely understood to be ‘white and grey architecture’, has developed into the dominant aesthetic in Lagos. This trend, like almost every other one in recent Nigerian architecture, was adopted from a global minimalist movement whose emergence can be traced to the post-Second World War popular design focus on utility and efficiency. It is now not only limited to residential developments but is also gradually shaping commercial developments and is fast becoming the overarching architectural identity of the city. Residential estates in Lekki-Ajah and other booming urban areas have now redefined luxury to be these boxy structures painted mainly in white both exterior and interior with few grey (sometimes black) shades. They are often compact, with flat roofs hidden with parapet walls, and have large, fixed glass windows, with no vegetation on the site. These designs result in homes that solely rely on air conditioning, making them a climate crime and a socio-cultural crime also, when their impact on the architectural identity of the city is considered.
In a conversation with Jumoke Adenowo, an internationally recognized Nigerian architect and the originator of the Neo-heritage principles that set the framework for evolving indigenous solutions to African design problems, she expressed how the prevalent architecture of Lagos now lacks depth and ignores climate responsiveness. She explained that while the contemporary architecture that I term ‘white and grey’ architecture appeals to most residents, especially the young Gen Zs, it is causing great damage to the architectural identity of the city, and even more damage to the everyday experiences of those that occupy them, as they grapple with the basic problems of lighting, ventilation and thermal comfort which every building built for the tropics should cater towards.
However, beyond residential spaces, this aesthetic had also come to define the design of commercial buildings. Malls, office buildings and event centres are monotonous. While they look sleek, they sacrifice cultural and environmental sensitivity for international conformity. They dismiss locally inspired innovation and lean entirely on foreign aesthetics. This contemporary architecture style is appealing because of its simplicity and its perceived modernity. More importantly, it is favoured by building developers because it is fast and relatively cost-efficient to build. When most people think about Lagos, this is what they see because this style has dominated Afrobeats, Nollywood and pop culture, and its homogeneity continues to negatively impact the city’s heritage and spirit of place. The potential for creative expressions in buildings is endangered as this contemporary style holds sway, and as the city’s architectural identity crisis deepens.
THE STATE OF THINGS: PLACELESSNESS
Placelessness, as defined by Connor Lambrecht in his 2020 New York University Confluence publication, is a classification that describes a subjective spatial quality in which a location is impersonal and exists between the blurred cross-section of place and space. In other words, placelessness is a term used in architectural theory to define the state where a particular city is too similar to many other places and has no special character. This is caused largely due to globalization, commercialization and the proliferation of the make-it-happen culture. In 2021, Professor of architecture, Babatunde Jaiyeoba, wrote: ‘African architecture or Indigenous culture is yet to be felt within the symbolic language of built space even in African countries.’ Architect and artist, Demas Nwoko, said in a 2023 Dezeen interview that ‘nothing has been built yet in Africa.’ He blames this on colonization and the negative sides of formal architecture training. ‘Nothing has been built yet in Africa,’ as opined by Nwoko, can be a rather confusing statement when one looks out of the window and sees construction cranes that never stop working. On a second look, however, Nwoko’s statement begins to gain more clarity when one begins to consider what these new construction works add to the environment in terms of crafting a sense of place. Nwoko’s work is a stellar application of Africanism in architecture, and truly on a panoramic view of the African architecture, nothing has been built yet in that light.
It is very essential to discuss placelessness in the case of Lagos as it is fast taking the role of the capital of Black culture, and it has to take on this role with a strong identity, which is best expressed in its architecture. Lagos is a city that continues to grow despite economic and socio-cultural challenges. Placelessness even becomes more relevant as the city is fast becoming the entertainment capital of Africa, and indeed the world. Tourism in the city has also received new hype, particularly with the Detty December rave generating $75 million in 2024, and is forecast to climb to $2 billion in 2026.
The essence of placelessness in Lagos, unfortunately, is that the buildings do not all come together to tell a cohesive story. The history of the architecture of Lagos is the history of the architecture of Nigeria. In Lagos, we find buildings representing different stages of Nigerian architecture. The architectural identity of Lagos lies in a limbo shaped by socio-economic, historical, and cultural influences. The state of things can be summed up in the dichotomy between tradition and modernity, between staying true to the city’s heritage and adopting global architectural trends.
There are samples of British colonial intervention that can be found in the form of buildings and public infrastructure on Lagos Island and the Mainland. These samples tell of the colonial experience in Lagos, an experience that was different from those in other parts of the country. The Cathedral Church of Christ and the General Post Office building reflect Gothic influences, and the Jaekel house, built in 1898 at Ebute-Meta, represents British colonial architecture in its entirety as we observe in the verandas that wrap around the building, in its gable roof and overhang, as well as its symmetry and proportion. Other features that help us identify its colonial heritage include the surrounding landscape and the materiality of the building. In Ikoyi, we see buildings that tell of the development of Lagos. They are often the high-rise and mid-rise buildings with glass facades that have been criticized by researchers as a climate crime. In residential areas, we see the proliferation of features like concrete fascia that eliminate the climatic benefit that deep roof eaves offer. In the new high-end residential developments in Lagos, this trend is more pronounced.
The architectural identity of cities is essentially defined by what motivates people to build. The wealthy and upwardly mobile in Lagos build to signal their wealth. Building to impress wanes as we move down the social ladder, where at the bottom, people who live in informal settlements build with materials readily available to them. The reality today as it was in the 19th century, is that wealthy people build to impress and they will choose any architectural style, building material, or construction method that bests suits this purpose, as we see the elites of Lagos in the late 19th century favour the Afro-Brazilian style over the Saro style because it was more ornate and flamboyant. This desire of the rich to impress also extends to the post-independence architecture of Lagos, but does not find bold decorative expression, as that was dampened by the prevailing modernist international style of architecture, which was predominantly minimalist. The postmodern style, which later emerged in the 1970s allowed for more ornate expressions. The twenty first-century architecture of Lagos has been defined by the minimalist style which can be traced to the desire to import the prevailing international style of the time. Therefore, as the architecture of Lagos changes with time, we see that the underlying factors dictating the popular architectural style of each time remain largely the same.
In another sense, informal settlements in Lagos also make their contributions to the architectural identity of the city. In 2020, 66 per cent of Lagos’ population was estimated to live in slums. These slums, like Ajegunle and Makoko, develop around water bodies, which cover more than 22 per cent of the city. As such, the prevailing character of Lagos’s waterscape is the informal settlement, which makes a rather unrefined contribution to the architectural identity of Lagos. Also, the development of public infrastructure like railway stations and bus stations has created landmark places, contributing to the city’s architectural identity. The informal sector’s dominance, particularly on the mainland in the form of street markets and roadside shops highlights a fragmented urban fabric, negatively impacting cohesive zoning efforts, leading to an unregulated urban sprawl, and defining the city as chaotic.
The present architectural identity of Lagos has also been influenced by the Yoruba culture. Modern constructions, especially in public buildings, feature Yoruba motifs. Examples include the John Randle Centre for Yorùbá Culture & History designed by the founder of ‘Studio Imagine. Simply Architecture’, Seun Oduwole, and Abijo Mosque, designed by the founder of New Alternative Nigerian Architecture, Adeyemo Shokunbi. In the John Randle Centre as well as the Abijo Mosque, we see an earthen finish on the exterior of the buildings. However, beyond the façade, the ingenuity lies in the method of construction, which rests on traditional Yoruba building practices and craftsmanship. However, these cultural expressions and heritage preservation efforts remain unpopular and overshadowed by the city’s fixation on foreign aesthetics; a fixation that is partly due to the popular doubt of architecture’s ability to be rooted in tradition while constantly leaning into the future. This doubt has been creatively addressed in the Making A Difference House (or MAD House) by Tikera at the University of Lagos designed by Adeyemo Shokubi, where shipping containers have been repurposed to house a creative hub. At the MAD House also, we see the seamless combination of local materials like raffia and earth, and modern materials and finishes to create a space that speaks to the possibilities of blending tradition with modernity. Overall, the architectural identity of Lagos remains fragmented, shaped by different historical styles, and continues to be influenced by contemporary urban issues.
THE EFFECT OF ECONOMIC GROWTH
Governor Babajide Sanwo-Olu claimed in June 2024 that Lagos has seen GDP growth of 50 per cent since he became governor in 2019. Lagos accounts for 35 per cent of Nigeria’s GDP. The economic excellence of Lagos, when placed in the Nigerian context, has imbued in every sector of the city a nuanced mix of ambition and compromise. We can trace this back to the oil boom of the 1970s and the resultant building spree led by the government. The Nigerian state, at the time, with no money problems, built monuments like the National Theatre in Iganmu, and the NECOM House in Lagos Island. Both buildings now stand as symbols of the excellence of Lagos, and more broadly, of progress and prosperity in post-independence Nigeria. Similarly, government housing estates like FESTAC Town were designed and built to meet the rising urban housing need and introduce planned urban living.
In recent times, owing to economic growth, the government has funded the development of public infrastructure that has reshaped the skyline of Lagos as we know it. Commissioned in 2013, the Lekki-Ikoyi Link Bridge stands as the first cable-stayed bridge in West Africa. While solving traffic congestion in the city, it does more than this. We find miniature replicas of this bridge in public parks and on graffiti around the city. It stands as a symbol of Lagos as the economic hub of West Africa and as a global city.
On the other hand, there is a housing boom caused by this continued economic growth. Lagos cares less how new residential developments impact the city’s spirit of place and prioritizes fitting as many apartments as possible in a single plot. New builds now struggle to meet basic living requirements like adequate room spaces, natural ventilation and sufficient lighting. When we look beyond the iconic structures that have become symbols of the city, we see a lack of intentionality towards developing buildings that fit properly into the context of Lagos.
THE EFFECT OF URBANIZATION
Analysts estimate that Lagos gains 3,000 new migrants daily. These new residents cut across several socio-economic statuses, some of them add to the housing gap, while the more well-to-do put further strain on the housing market. This situation culminates in an increase in the number of informal settlements and the increase in unplanned rapid residential developments that negatively impact the architectural identity of Lagos. Unregulated growth as a result of urban sprawl has defined areas like Makoko, Bariga and Ajegunle as densely populated areas with structures made with makeshift materials. Many of these structures leave their residents with low standards of living, pointing to the city’s inability to meet the housing needs of low-income workers. While these forms of architecture are without architects, they hold high significance to the architectural identity of Lagos, and the ambience they produce defines the places they occupy. Hence, low-cost housing using indigenous materials and methods should be explored to replace the current shanty towns and create a landscape that will contribute to shaping a new architectural identity for Lagos.
Across Third Mainland Bridge, urbanization has spurred the proliferation of modern housing typologies built for the middle and upper classes. Semi-detached mini flats and terraces, maisonettes and studio apartments have become common in areas like Lekki and Ajah, as well as on the Island in Surulere and Yaba. These new typologies show a change in the social organization of the city. The house forms signify a shift from traditional family co-living to compact, individualistic living arrangements. This trend has largely been caused by rising land prices and the daunting task of maximizing limited space in the city’s core.
These changes are inevitable in any city interested in development. They are signs of development in themselves. However, the city should not leave itself at their mercy. While we seek to be part of the international community and reap the benefits of technological advancements and globalization, the need for heritage preservation should not elude us. While the urbanization of Lagos is presently creating a polarized cityscape with sprawling informal settlements on one hand, and spontaneous modern housing developments on the other hand, it can, if approached correctly, be an opportunity to create a city rooted in tradition but constantly leaning into the future.
TOWARDS A NEW ALTERNATIVE
Today, the architectural identity of Lagos is at a crossroads. It got there on the back of urbanization and economic growth. While these major influences have led to remarkable development, they have eroded the spirit of place in Lagos. Notably, the increase in informal settlements and the rise in monotonous white and grey architecture are manifestations of the architectural identity crisis of Lagos. This problem is architectural as much as it is political, social and economic. And it requires efforts and solutions across these different areas.
This change must, however, emanate from the architectural front. Stakeholders in the architectural, engineering and construction industry, as well as the government, urban planners and academic institutions, must come together to develop a robust framework for building the future of Lagos. Effective regulations and necessary support must be put in place to ensure that the developmental trajectory of Lagos leads it to a sustainable future rooted in the preservation of cultural heritage, while efficiently meeting the needs of the time.
We may find a potential guide to an innovative architecture that creates unique places and in the design philosophy of the New Alternative Nigerian Aesthetic, influenced mainly by the works and ideas of Nwoko, which creatively combines traditional African forms and materials with modern techniques. Nwoko’s design ethos prioritizes the use of indigenous building materials and methods, the incorporation of passive design strategies, and cultural motifs, all of which contribute critically to meeting the unique climatic, economic, and social conditions of Lagos through its architecture.
Conclusively, adopting a design ethos like that of Nwoko, which created unique innovations by striking a balance between modernity and tradition, can lead Lagos to develop an architectural identity that tightly caters to urbanization and responds effectively to economic growth while preserving its rich cultural heritage. The architecture of Lagos is very important to its sustainability for the future, as well as its ability to tell a story of African excellence. This is not to be approached as another problem to solve, but a unique opportunity for Lagos to be a global destination and lead an African renaissance⎈
