•Pathetic story of FCT suburb, Karmo-Sabo
From Sola Ojo, Abuja
In the heart of Nigeria’s Federal Capital Territory (FCT), Abuja, lies Karmo-Sabo, a century-old community grappling with the weight of modernisation, paying dearly for human cost of urban expansion.
While the skyline of Abuja grows ever higher, residents here face shrinking farmland, worsening infrastructure and the looming shadow of an ever-expanding age-long dumpsite with its health hazard and threat to human dignity and survival.
Through the voices of its people, the struggle for survival, dignity, and development comes to life with a beacon of hope in this micro-mini Nigeria. To many, Karmo is a replica of the popular Ajegunle in Lagos.
From the busy narrow roads to indiscriminate dumping of solid waste, choked residential apartments and worrisome community road networks and drainage systems, residents here are yet to feel the pulse of the Federal Capital Territory (FCT) infrastructural development. It is a case of swimming in the ocean while dying of thirst.
When Daily Sun visited the small but densely populated town, the volume of business transactions and other social activities there indeed signifiy a land flowing with milk and honey.
The custodian of tradition Karmo-Sabo, Chief Umar Gani Sarki Karmo (Gomo III), disclosed that the name Karmo, which in Gede dialect means “there is food here”, carries deep ancestral weight: “Our ancestors settled here over 100 years ago because the land was fertile.
“They were excellent farmers. When they discovered the fertility of the land where any crop planted yielded rich produce, they decided to establish the community. But today, that fertile land is disappearing.
“Developers have surrounded and taken over most of our farmlands, which were the primary source of livelihood for our people. Farming is our main occupation and now it is difficult for many to continue.
“Despite these challenges, we appreciate the development. But the loss of farmlands and farming opportunities has made life more difficult for many of our people, whose only means of survival is farming.
“The FCT Authority is constructing a standard road from Deidei, which will pass through here. Our chairman is also trying. He’s the one who tarred the road to this palace and a few other streets.
“As one of the oldest communities in the FCT, we want government to help us in the area of clean water, a general hospital a senior secondary school for our children. Most importantly and urgently, we need government to come and help us to evacuate the ancient dumpsite, which now poses serious health challenges to our people.
“Before, the dumpsite used to be far away from us. But now, development has caught up with it, and it is now in the centre of Karmo. We have made efforts, but it is beyond us due to its huge size.”
In another corner of Karmo, Haruna Dikko Gambari, a community leader and Wambayi (Amari of Karmo), also painted a picture of infrastructural neglect: “Residents face many developmental challenges, particularly in access to basic amenities like water, electricity, roads, and healthcare.
“We are currently suffering from a severe water shortage. In the past, we relied on wells for survival. However, at a point in time, there was a public water supply and that stopped a lot of us from digging wells and sinking boreholes for those who could afford either.
“Now people are used to water pumps. Unfortunately, the pumps have not been functioning for over a month. The community is suffering a lot from this lifesaving essential commodity. You can imagine that the number of people who transact business in this market town daily don’t have access to water. So we need help urgently.”
Electricity, he noted, is no better: “Even a small rain can cause a power outage and it often takes a long time before it’s restored.
“Apart from the Gede people who are the aboriginal here, we have Gbagyi, Idoma, Hausa, Yoruba, Igbo, Fulani and other ethnic nationalities living among us. It feels like a market town because of the mix.
“Yet, we lack proper hospitals or healthcare facilities beyond the current primary health care that we have. We need government support in this area.”
Perhaps, the most pressing human story in Karmo lies with residents like Ladi Danladi, who lives in the shadow of a growing dumpsite.The hazardous odour oozing out of the dumpsite, which shares demarcation with several residential houses, can be better imagined.
This is the reality of the lifestyle of low-income Nigerians living to survive in Karmo. Danladi said:
“I live here in Karimo, very close to the dumpsite. Over the years, the dumpsite has expanded and pushed further down into the community. The community has tried to push it back without results.
“We have even tried to stop people from this indiscriminate dumping of refuse here, but that too has not yielded any positive results. As you can see, the dumpsite has created an avenue for gully erosion. What this means is that if concrete decisions are not taken by the government, many residents here will be rendered homeless.
“We’ve been told that nothing can be done about the land because it belongs to the indigenous people. Some people say, if I can’t have it and you can’t have it, then let’s just leave it.
“The area is now very risky to live in. Even though we know the dangers, we have no choice but to stay here with my children. I’ve been living in this place for about four years now. But I have serious plans to relocate.
“It’s not safe for me or my children. The presence of the dumpsite raises real fears of disease outbreaks and other health hazards. We need help. Something must be done to address this long-standing problem.
“I want to make a passionate appeal to the FCT Minister, Nyewom Wike, to consider our pains in giving us water, evacuate this dumpsite and turn the place to a mini-park for children.”
Karmo-Sabo is a reflection of many Nigerian communities, rich in history, culture and resilience, yet endangered by the very forces of change that promise progress. Sarki Karmo capped it up aptly: “No community can thrive without progress.”