PAUL NWOSU

Long before the bustling tech hub now known as Computer Village became synonymous with tech and enterprise, it began humbly in Otigba, by a small cluster of traders who came together to sell computer hardware and provide basic IT services. Few of today’s Gen Zs know this origin story, but it remains the foundation of what would later evolve into West Africa’s largest technology marketplace, a sprawling ecosystem injecting an estimated $2 billion annually into Nigeria’s economy and attracting buyers from across the country and the West African subregion.
In an exclusive conversation with Alpha Times, Jimmy Onyemenam, Managing Director of Bridgeways Global Projects Ltd, concessionaire of the Lagos State ICT Business Park, Katangowa, traces the remarkable evolution of Computer Village and provides rare insights into the long, complex journey behind the ambitious new ICT hub project, and the controversy that now surrounds it.
“When we came in, we were not among the original founders,” Onyemenam began. “We entered as professionals in the building industry, developers, not traders. But we immersed ourselves in their world, studying their needs, eating and living with them. That’s how we came to understand what Computer Village truly represents.”
The Lagos State Government first envisioned transforming the overcrowded Computer Village into a purpose-built ICT business park during the administration of then Governor Bola Ahmed Tinubu. Bureaucratic hurdles and land title issues, however, delayed implementation. “Around 2008, discussions on a dedicated ICT hub took a different turn,” Onyemenam recalled. “Governor Fashola, who succeeded Tinubu, reopened the project through a public call for expression of interest from developers. We applied, without any political backing, and were eventually shortlisted among the top contenders”.
The proposed site was Katangowa in Agbado/Oke-Odo, home to a massive second-hand clothes (okirika) market and an adjoining landfill that had become a settlement for thousands of squatters and illegal immigrants. Despite the daunting conditions, Lagos State remained determined to reclaim and redevelop the land into a modern ICT hub that would relocate the sprawling Computer Village from Ikeja.
The development process stretched across successive administrations, Fashola, Ambode, and Sanwo-Olu, each adding layers of complexity to the project’s realization. “Between 2008 and 2018, it was one delay after another – title perfection, land disputes, and political interests,” Onyemenam explained. “The contract was finally awarded in 2018 under Governor Ambode, but the site wasn’t handed over until early 2020.”
To mitigate the displacement of traders, the Sanwo-Olu administration insisted on the creation of a temporary market before construction could commence. Despite financial strain and rising costs, Bridgeways Global Projects built 3,000 stalls, complete with toilets, warehouses, and a management office, just as the COVID-19 pandemic hit.
Executing a project of that magnitude amid chaos came with severe risks. The company faced continuous attacks from displaced squatters and criminal elements living around the former dump site. “We were spending millions monthly on security,” Onyemenam said. “Even the Police couldn’t enter the dump area; it was that dangerous. But we pressed on, relying on local vigilantes and community hunters to safeguard the project.”
At one point, political interference nearly cost Bridgeways its concession. “When the governor invited me, it was to terminate our contract,” he recalled. “But when we presented drone footage showing the progress we’d made, he was shocked. He realized he had been misled. That encounter saved the project, at least for a while.”
What began as a model Public-Private Partnership (PPP) soon degenerated into a bitter dispute. In 2022, the Lagos State Government abruptly terminated the concession agreement, a decision Onyemenam described as “unjustified, unlawful, and politically motivated.”
According to him, the biggest setback was the refusal of the Ministry of Physical Planning and Urban Development to grant building approvals, despite repeated applications since 2018. “By law, no building can be erected in this country without planning approval,” he explained. “We applied several times, submitted drawings four different times, and addressed every observation raised. Yet, up till the purported termination, no single approval was issued.”
The delay crippled the project’s financing, as banks could not release funds without official documentation. “We had secured funding from Sterling Bank, even for traders who were to acquire shops,” he said. “But the disbursement was contingent on approvals that never came.”
To demonstrate commitment, Bridgeways proceeded with foundational works, perimeter fencing, and construction of a Police post at its own cost. “We couldn’t sit idle,” Onyemenam said. “We had to show progress, even though we knew we were being set up. Then, without warning, in August 2022, we received a letter of termination accusing us of breaching the agreement. How do you breach an agreement by refusing to break the law?”
He further alleged that Lagos State itself failed to fulfill its obligations, particularly the commitment to fund 50 percent of the temporary relocation market. “The traders paid their 50 percent; the government didn’t pay a dime,” he revealed. “We wrote several times requesting payment. From what I understand, the governor may even have approved it, but those handling the process need to explain what happened to the funds.”
Despite a subsisting Court order restraining the state from interfering with the concession, government agents allegedly stormed the site with security personnel and forcefully took possession. “Eight of my staff were arrested and detained for four days without food or water,” Onyemenam said. “That was contempt of court.”
He also alleged ethnic profiling and political undertones behind the entire episode. “I have it in writing from a Special Adviser profiling me as a non-indigene and suggesting that the project be reviewed on that basis,” he claimed. “Everything changed after the last election. I made several attempts to meet the current SA on Urban Development, Dr. Babatunde, but he ignored us. Instead, they went to the media to malign us.”
Bridgeways’ financial exposure on the project, according to Onyemenam, stands at ₦8.6 billion, covering design, engineering, and site works, figures he said were jointly verified by the state’s own valuation team. “It’s not an inflated figure,” he stressed. “Every kobo can be accounted for. But instead of addressing this, they’re spreading lies that I collected traders’ money and absconded.”
For Onyemenam, the Katangowa ICT Business Park saga reflects a broader failure of governance and good faith in public-private partnerships. “If they had simply told me politely that they wanted the project back, I would have walked away,” he said. “But to undermine a lawful contract, violate Court orders, and then smear a developer who delivered on every term within his control, that’s not just bad business, it’s bad governance.”
As the matter drags in court, the Katangowa ICT Business Park remains a symbol of a grand vision derailed. A project conceived to elevate Nigeria’s digital economy, now mired in controversy.
Yet, the story of Otigba and Computer Village endures. It is a testament to the power of grassroots innovation and the resilience of Nigeria’s tech entrepreneurs. Whether the Katangowa ICT Park will eventually rise from the ruins of bureaucracy and politics remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: the dream that began in the narrow streets of Otigba still holds the promise of Nigeria’s digital future.
There is urgent need for transparency, fairness, and accountability in the handling of public-private partnerships (PPPs), especially those designed to drive Nigeria’s digital transformation and economic growth. The allegations surrounding the Katangowa ICT Business Park project underscore the importance of institutional discipline, clear communication, and respect for contractual obligations between government and private investors.
Projects of such magnitude should not be derailed by bureaucracy, political interference, or ethnic bias. The Lagos State Government owes the public and the business community clear explanations and a credible path to resolution. Investors must be assured that Nigeria remains a country where agreements are honored, not weaponized.
Ultimately, the success of visionary projects like Katangowa ICT Park depends on trust. Restoring that trust is not just a legal necessity, it is a moral and economic imperative for sustainable development and national credibility.
*Paul Nwosu PhD writes from Lagos.