By Henry Balogun, Publisher, HB Report
It was shortly after 9:00 a.m. when I stepped out, weaving through the lush lanes of Ikoyi to feel the pulse of the Lagos local government elections firsthand. What greeted me wasn’t the energy of civic engagement, but silence—almost eerie in its stillness. No queues, no buzz, just guards, polling officers, and a smattering of workers.
Ikoyi, as always, was Ikoyi. The privileged precincts hardly stir during federal elections, let alone local government ones. This morning was no different. Residents stayed tucked indoors or slipped quietly into their weekend routines. Even the hired help weren’t particularly concerned—if voting was on their minds, it didn’t show.
Crossing into Victoria Island, the mood was a carbon copy: serene, uneventful, and largely indifferent. I rolled down the windows and drove slowly past the polling units—hoping to spot engagement, conversation, even complaint. But all I saw were empty chairs and idle INEC officials, their tables neat, ballot boxes untouched.
Quiet streets of Ikoyi from the passenger view—polling stations were ghost towns.
Approaching Central Lagos—empty lanes, muted activity. A city not voting.
Central Lagos – More People, Less Voting
Now here, finally, was life. I asked the driver to drive past Catholic Mission Street and the Lagos Island Maternity Hospital, a familiar local landmark, then slow down near Freedom Park, where the scene outside told a curious story:
Children laughing, food vendors peddling snacks, car radios humming, and the people—yes, people—were out. But were they there to vote? Not quite. Most were simply living their Saturday—treating what should have been an electoral exercise as just another community day.
Outside Lagos Island Maternity Hospital and Freedom Park— the activity was vibrant, but voting was not the vibe.
From Freedom Park to Sura, this part of Central Lagos had the highest visible population activity I encountered all day—but again, it was largely recreational or social. I heard drums from a distance. On a different corner, some folks were having lunch under umbrellas. People were gathered, yes—but not around ballot boxes.
I spoke to a few residents, asking the obvious question: “Why aren’t you voting?” The answers were striking in their consistency:
“We already know the winner.”
“It’s always the same people.”
“The real election is hunger, and we’re losing that one.”
“Nothing changes with these votes. Let them carry on.”
This wasn’t disillusionment borne of injustice—it was resignation wrapped in predictability. Most believed, without hostility or outrage, that the outcome had already been settled in favour of the ruling party, their party. And so, they simply opted out.
A Lagosian Reality: Commerce Over Civic Duty
One common thread that stood out wherever I stopped—especially among artisans, traders, and okada riders—was that people were merely waiting out the clock. The 3:00 p.m. lifting of the movement restriction was the real election they were counting down to.
“Make we just wait make 3 knack,” said one food vendor. “Na after that, money go fit enter hand.”
This is Lagos. And if there’s one thing that often trumps politics, it’s commerce. Survival economics has become the loudest campaign manifesto in town. And when the people don’t believe their votes will translate into food, fuel, or opportunity—they choose to focus on what will.
Afternoon Drift: Slight Uptick, Same Story
By noon, a few more voters had trickled into polling units around the Lekki axis, but still, nothing dramatic. It wasn’t a ghost town—but it wasn’t democracy in high gear either. Participation remained limited, more common in central communities than upscale areas.
But if there’s one thing to note, and to commend—it’s the peace.
No ballot boxes were snatched. No thugs disrupted proceedings. No shouting matches escalated into chaos. The election was marked by what I can only describe as peaceful indifference. And in today’s Nigeria, where elections are often synonymous with tension, that is a blessing worth noting.
Final Thoughts: A Quiet Verdict
As I headed back through Falomo, reflecting on the day, I couldn’t help but see the metaphor: Lagos was present, but not participating. The city showed up to eat, to laugh, to live—but not to vote.
Whether driven by apathy, hunger, disenchantment, or the belief that “the results are already decided,” today’s LG election on the Island told a familiar Lagosian tale: the people may have power, but many no longer believe in the process.
Visited: Ikoyi | Victoria Island | Catholic Mission | Lagos Island (Sura/Freedom Park/Maternity Hospital) | Lekki Axis
Images captured on site by Henry Balogun for HB Report
🕊️ Incidents: None reported. No violence, ballot-snatching or voter intimidation observed.
HB Report will continue to monitor developments across other LGAs and update you with more first-hand accounts. For now, what Lagos said with its silence may be just as important as any ballot.
— Henry Balogun
Publisher, HB Report
www.hbreport.com | @HBReport
