Kelechi Obinna remembers the exact moment his career collapsed into floodwater. It was shortly after 2 AM on a Sunday morning in Shagari Phase Two, Bole area of Yola Town. The young multimedia journalist had just returned home from field work, carefully storing five to six cameras and lenses worth millions of naira. He went to sleep exhausted, trusting that his rented home would protect the tools of his trade.
“When I was sleeping, the flood came. We woke up around 2 AM, everywhere was completely dark, no power supply,” Obinna recalls. The darkness amplified the terror. “You can just hear loud voices of building collapses, people crying from different sites. Before we could reach out to stand up on the bed, I noticed that our house is already flooded. Everything was soaked in water, including my media gadgets.”
For six hours, Obinna and his neighbors waited in rising water as the wind howled and buildings crumbled. Children younger than three woke to find themselves surrounded by contaminated floodwater teeming with reptiles and debris. “The wind didn’t stop. That’s how we stayed in that water until 8 AM when the rescue team came in and were able to save some of us.”
By the time rescuers arrived, everything Obinna owned had been destroyed. Cameras, lenses, academic documents, vital papers, all gone. His professional equipment, carefully maintained and essential to earning his livelihood, was lost. To this day, he hasn’t recovered documents that cannot be replaced.
Obinna’s story captures more than personal tragedy. He lost the very tools he uses to document stories like his own. A multimedia journalist rendered unable to work by a disaster that was largely preventable. His experience on that dark Sunday morning, joining more than 44,000 Adamawa residents displaced by flooding in 2024 and 2025, raises urgent questions about how human choices can undermine billions of naira in flood prevention infrastructure and leave thousands homeless despite laws designed to protect them.
The Infrastructure That Should Have Saved Them
Governor Ahmadu Umaru Fintiri’s administration has invested heavily in flood prevention. The government constructed 2.9 kilometers of stormwater drainage in Samunaka Satellite Town, extended concrete drains 2.6 kilometers from Federal Government Girls College to behind Air Force Comprehensive Secondary School, and built 700 meters of drainage in Uba Town. Flood control interventions reached 12 major markets across multiple LGAs.
When clear, these drainage systems work exactly as engineered. Concrete channels move stormwater away from homes. Culverts allow water to pass under roads. Storm drains capture runoff before it becomes dangerous. The infrastructure represents genuine government commitment to protecting citizens.
But infrastructure alone cannot prevent flooding if people treat it as a convenient waste disposal system. Across Yola, newly constructed drainages have become dumping grounds. Market vendors toss vegetable scraps and packaging into storm drains. Residents pitch household waste into channels meant only for rainwater. Construction crews allow sand and building materials to wash into drainage systems. Over months, sophisticated flood prevention infrastructure transforms into clogged, useless trenches that overflow at the first heavy rain.
The pattern repeats across neighborhoods regardless of income or education. Drainage blockage isn’t exclusively a problem of poor informal settlements. It occurs in planned residential areas, commercial districts, even near government buildings. The common thread isn’t poverty or ignorance but a disconnect between individual convenience and collective consequence. Each person who tosses waste into a drain assumes their single action is insignificant. Multiply that calculation across thousands of residents and the system fails completely.
When Laws Exist But Enforcement Falters
The Adamawa State government recognizes the behavioral dimension and has attempted to address it through policy. Governor Fintiri approved monthly sanitation exercises with task force deployment across all 21 LGAs. The Ministry of Environment activated dedicated teams to enforce sanitation laws and conduct public sensitization campaigns.
Yet enforcement remains inconsistent. During recent exercises, officials seized utensils from roadside food vendors, extinguished cooking fires, and scattered traders’ tables to demonstrate seriousness. These dramatic actions generate temporary compliance but rarely produce sustained behavioral change. Vendors return after officials leave. Markets resume normal operations unchanged. Drainages cleared during one month’s exercise become re-blocked by the next.
Her ministry has conducted extensive sensitization campaigns explaining that drainages are meant for water flow, not waste disposal. “We have created awareness enough for people, but they gave just deaf ear to all that we’re saying, and that’s why we see it coming back to the community. When we drop our waste in the drainage we experience flood. It’s just as simple as that.”
When violators are caught, consequences do follow, according to Dadah. “Once there are defaulters, we do have mobile court that would fine you there and then you pay. And if your name repeats second or twice or three times, you know, defaulting, then you’ll be prosecuted. You will be taken to court. And we have several cases there in the court on this issue of sanitation.”
The Permanent Secretary credits Governor Fintiri’s administration with providing necessary resources. “I want to commend the Governor of the state, because all that you have said, he has done it. There was mass employment, of which we are going to have enough staff to take care of this. Then the trucks for the sanitation exercise already is there for us,” she notes, pointing to sweeper trucks cleaning streets and front loaders evacuating accumulated waste heaps.
But when asked why citizens continue blocking drainages despite awareness campaigns and enforcement, Dadah suggests some violations are deliberate while others stem from misplaced blame. “Some of these things is intentional. Some will tell you, no, I forgot that it is this monthly sanitation. Some will tell you, okay, you didn’t provide dustbin for us. Is the government to provide those bins, trash bins? No, you do that for yourself. So they try to shift blame to the government of which we are not supposed to accept.”
The Human Faces Behind the Blockage
Mrs. Lami Abdulhamid, a market trader in Yola who guided The Gazette News team to waterlogs bought by some people for construction theirs houses, has witnessed the cycle repeatedly. She describes how community members “fetch their trash and deposit them inside the water system, the culverts, or the drainages.”
Her attempts to maintain drainage near her market stall have made her a target of community suspicion. “For me, whenever I decide to go and clear and burn down the trashes, people within the community will start putting eye on me, saying that I am an oversabi,” she explains, using Nigerian slang for someone perceived as overly ambitious or interfering.
When flooding devastated her stall, Abdulhamid sought assistance from NGOs conducting damage assessments. The response highlighted gaps in disaster relief. “When we complained, they said no, they were only sent to check on houses, not shops. They didn’t include shops in their own list of people to give them aid.” The flood damaged her inventory significantly, but relief programs focused exclusively on residential structures, leaving market traders to absorb losses without support.
Yet not all residents view drainage maintenance as someone else’s responsibility. Saidu Isa, a resident from Yolde Pate who regularly participates in monthly sanitation exercises, accepts citizen accountability. “In my own understanding, the government have already done its own job since he was able to create the drainages so that the water be passing through. It is just left for the population to make their own decisions if they wish to take care of the water drainage.”
His philosophy is straightforward. “The government cannot be there to be doing everything for you. If the government is to create an environment, your own job is to clean everything. So when the government creates something, it is our job to take care of it, because the government is of the people, for the people and by the people.”
The Mining Controversy That Won’t Go Away
Beyond drainage blockage lies another layer of alleged environmental negligence. The controversy centers on Bole, where quarrying and mining activity has altered terrain in ways community members insist changed water flow patterns and increased flood vulnerability downstream.
Residents describe a transformation witnessed over years as mining operations expanded. Jauro Tafida, a community leader, recalls that before quarrying began in the mountains near their settlements, the land absorbed water during rainy season. Now water flows through lands and farmlands with alarming ease. Erosion has worsened dramatically as water cascades down channels carved by stone crushers and mining equipment. What were once stable hillsides that slowed water flow have become steep channels that accelerate runoff directly into residential areas below.
The Gazette News attempted to visit the alleged site but was blocked by security personnel who noted it is not allowed to advance from that point.
The flood that Sunday morning in Shagari Phase Two convinced residents like Kelechi Obinna that mining operations bore responsibility. The timing, the intensity, the fact their neighborhood had never experienced such catastrophic flooding—all pointed to something beyond normal rainfall patterns. Previous rainstorms, even heavier ones, had never produced such devastating results except for the 2013 flood caused by the breaking of the Lagdo Dam in Cameroon. The water came with unprecedented speed and force, giving families no time to salvage belongings or evacuate safely.
Yet government investigations have repeatedly absolved mining companies. The Adamawa State Emergency Management Agency and the Ministry of Environment concluded the company had no case to answer. Officials emphasized the company operates with proper permits and follows required environmental protocols. They attributed flooding to extraordinary rainfall and natural hydrological patterns rather than human alteration of terrain.
The Gazette News attempted to obtain ADSEMA’s detailed assessment by reaching out to Permanent Secretary Celine Laori, but she was unavailable and communications were not going through at the time of publication.
When asked about the mining allegations, Permanent Secretary Dadah defers to higher-level investigation. “Honestly on that, I think the governor was there himself. He saw everything for himself, and he constituted a committee to work on that.” According to the ministry’s findings, the real culprit is unauthorized construction. “Based on our own findings, it’s people building on waterways. That’s the main reason. So that’s the cause of the flood around that area.”
This shift from mining allegations to building violations represents a significant pivot in the official narrative. Residents feel their lived experience is being dismissed in favor of technical assessments they were never allowed to see or challenge. They wonder whether government is protecting mining operations because of economic interests, political connections, or legitimate evidence they simply haven’t been shown.
Independent experts confirm mining activity can indeed alter hydrology in ways that increase downstream flood risk. Geologist Mughi Adamu explained that quarrying causes multiple environmental problems including air pollution, biodiversity loss, flooding, and erosion. Unregulated operations amplify these harms significantly because local miners often extract stones without the required backfilling that stabilizes terrain afterward.
Adding complexity is the question of illegal operations separate from permitted mining companies. Commissioner for Mineral Resources in Adamawa State, Ibrahim Haruna last year called for collaboration with security agencies to tackle illegal mining, noting unlicensed operators have been attracted by the global transition toward solid minerals. These illegal operations lack environmental oversight and extract materials using methods that maximize short-term profit while ignoring long-term environmental consequences.
Governor Fintiri himself on Wednesday, July 30, 2025, visited the Bole mining site to assess root causes, suggesting official concern about the connection even as his administration’s investigations cleared the company. This apparent contradiction highlights the complexity of determining causation when multiple factors contribute to flooding and when political, economic, and environmental considerations pull in different directions.
The Price of Prevention Versus the Cost of Disaster
When flooding devastates communities, government spends enormous sums on emergency response, displacement camps, medical care, and reconstruction. Thousands of families lose homes, possessions, crops, and businesses. Markets shut down. Roads become impassable. Schools close.
Prevention costs a fraction of what disaster response requires. Maintaining clear drainage systems involves regular cleaning that could be accomplished through community labor organized during monthly sanitation exercises. Enforcing proper waste disposal costs far less than evacuating thousands and housing them in camps for weeks or months.
Yet prevention remains chronically underfunded because its benefits are invisible. When drainages work properly, nothing dramatic happens. The absence of disaster generates no headlines and earns no political credit. Politicians struggle to campaign on problems that didn’t occur because systems functioned as intended.
For Kelechi Obinna, the economic calculation is painfully personal. He lost millions of naira in professional equipment that took years to acquire. Insurance is rare among Nigerian multimedia journalists, especially younger professionals building their careers. The government relief assessment that visited his area focused exclusively on residential structures, not the professional equipment and business assets that flood victims like him lost.
Months after the flood, Obinna continues working to rebuild his career from nothing, borrowing equipment when possible, accepting smaller assignments he would have declined before, watching opportunities pass because he lacks the tools to pursue them. His academic documents remain missing, creating additional obstacles. The flood didn’t just displace him temporarily—it set his career back years, perhaps permanently compromising his trajectory in a competitive field where equipment quality often determines which assignments a journalist can accept.
Breaking the Cycle
Adamawa’s flooding is not a one-time disaster but a recurring pattern that devastates communities with grim regularity. Major floods occurred in 2022, 2023, 2024, and now 2025. Each time, familiar scenes repeat. Water overwhelms neighborhoods. Families evacuate. Government activates emergency response. Politicians promise better preparedness. Then the cycle begins again when the next rainy season arrives.
This predictability makes the persistence of flooding even more frustrating. Unlike sudden earthquakes or unpredictable disasters, flooding in Adamawa follows known patterns. Rainy season comes every year. Water accumulates in predictable watershed areas. Drainage systems either function or fail based on their maintenance.
Solving this crisis requires addressing multiple failures simultaneously. Infrastructure maintenance must receive resources proportional to construction. Enforcement capacity must increase to make non-compliance costly enough to change behavior. Waste management infrastructure must expand to make compliance convenient. Public education must explain the specific mechanisms connecting individual actions to community consequences. Mining operations must face rigorous independent environmental assessment before permits are approved and continuous monitoring after operations begin.
The uncomfortable truth is that responsibility cannot be assigned to any single actor. Government built infrastructure but failed to enforce its protection. Citizens use public systems irresponsibly despite understanding consequences. Mining operations may be altering terrain in harmful ways or may be operating within regulations while communities misattribute natural disasters to their activities.
The floods will continue as long as the factors causing them continue. Infrastructure will remain inadequate if maintenance is neglected. Drainages will stay blocked if enforcement is sporadic. Mining will contribute to flood risk if environmental oversight is weak. These are choices, not inevitabilities.
Kelechi Obinna, still rebuilding his journalism career months after losing everything, understands this better than most policy makers. He survived that terrifying night when buildings collapsed around him and children woke in contaminated floodwater. He knows the rain will come again. He knows the patterns that allowed his neighborhood to flood remain unchanged. He knows government promises often exceed government performance. But he also knows that change is possible if enough people demand it persistently enough.
Whether Adamawa’s next rainy season brings another displacement camp or finally breaks the cycle of preventable disaster depends on choices being made right now by people who control small pieces of a large system that is failing everyone.
This report was produced by the editorial team at The Gazette News | Latest News In Nigeria & the World in line with our commitment to accuracy, fairness, and responsible journalism. Information in this article is based on verified sources available at the time of publication. The Gazette News | Latest News In Nigeria & the World may update the story as new facts emerge or additional context becomes available.
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