The beach shrinks every year in Ayetoro, in southern Nigeria, and what is left is peppered with the remains of homes swallowed by the ocean – some years ago, some just months prior.
"We are walking on people's houses," said 35-year-old Thompson Akingboye, moving along a narrow strip of sand only accessible by boat.
Nicknamed "The Happy Place," Ayetoro – home to around 10,000 people – was founded in 1947 by a group of people seeking to create a society based on the communal sharing of assets.
But its days seem numbered, as the community becomes one of Nigeria's most visible victims of coastal erosion. Families whose homes are destroyed are constantly rebuilding further inland, only for the water to strike them again.
Coastal erosion in Ayetoro has steadily increased since the early 2000s. The story is the same in 19 other communities in Ilaje district. Aided by climate change, the Atlantic Ocean is encroaching and sweeping away everything in its path.
The town's coastline receded by an average of 15m every year between 1987 and 2022 according to a study by spatial planning specialist Barnabas Ogirima James.
In 2024, the journal Scientific Reports estimated that the current rate of sea-level rise along west Africa's Gulf of Guinea is approximately 3.9mm per year – about 10.5% higher than the global average.
"I took this photo 14 years ago. Today, if you stand in the exact spot where I was, you'll see there are no buildings left," said Oluwambe Ojagbohunmi, the traditional king of Ayetoro, outside his palace.
In old photographs, a telecom tower stands surrounded by houses. When AFP visited in August, the tower was still there – now encircled by water and the remnants of swallowed-up buildings.
"My palace once had 100 rooms. Only about a dozen remain," the king, dressed in a white tunic, told AFP.
His bedroom is now in part of the building closest to the ocean. At night, the sound of waves crashing against the walls disturbs his sleep.
"This is our land. Where can we go? It's complicated," he said.
Refugee in my own community
In April, a storm saw the sea levels swell, trapping the palace occupants indoors for a week.
"I've become a refugee in my own community. Since losing my father's house in 2019 – swallowed and destroyed by the ocean – the only thing I managed to save was my university degree certificate," said Akingboye Thompson, a fisherman and personal assistant to the king.
Some families have moved more than three times, he added, standing in Ayetoro's streets, which are littered with plastic waste brought in by waves.
The houses are built from wood and iron sheets, often connected by raised wooden walkways.
According to Oluwasegun Babatunde Esan, a landscape architecture researcher at the University of Lagos who collaborates with Harvard University, part of the problem lies in what happens on land.
In rapidly urbanising Nigeria, floodplains, swamps and coastal areas that take in ocean surges or floodwater are often cleared out for human settlement – worsening erosion along the 850km coastline.
"There is growing demand for land, whether for housing or industrial activities," Esan said – but it needs to be strictly regulated. He also recommended developing more natural barriers by planting mangroves and coconut palms.
Fragile social services
Ayetoro occasionally receives relief materiels from government agencies and NGOs, though the community considers it insufficient.
The community's sole health centre has been lost to the waves.
"Sometimes the water reaches window level, yet we have to keep working. We help women give birth under these conditions. We have no choice," Omomiye Oluwaseun, a 26-year-old healthcare worker, said.
With brackish waters constantly inundating the community, "people suffer from high blood pressure and water-borne diseases like typhoid and diarrhea because of the water they use," Oluwaseun said.
"The sea has already contaminated the water supply, yet they use it for cooking because it is the only water available to them."
The ocean has also snatched away the stability that is supposed to come with each school year, said teacher Sunday Akinjoye, 45.
"Schools have been relocated several times, just like their homes. It takes a psychological toll on them. Their ability to concentrate on their studies drops drastically," he lamented.
No matter what they do, the mighty Atlantic continues to gain ground. – AFP
