Dr. Ugoji Egbujo

This month, one of the largest supermarkets in Festac, Lagos, got burnt. 

The Temple Hill Supermarket. A mysterious fire started in the evening after the supermarket had closed and ruined the multibillion naira business. Festac Town, in the heart of Lagos, has a fire service station with a multitude of staff. But they didn’t respond.

A crowd besieged them to summon them to action. But the federal fire service in Festac couldn’t move. Baffling impotence.

For two hours, the arrogant blaze ate the building and its goods unchecked. Residents ran helter-skelter and cursed. Fire service agents from Ikeja arrived at the surging inferno two hours late. 

Their short and feeble hoses couldn’t push water to the top of the two-storey building where the fire sat. It was a comprehensive disaster.

In a flash, the firefighters from Ikeja ran out of water and departed

The forsaken supermarket staff and stricken sympathisers were left to fight the fire with bare hands, buckets and gallons. Fire danced giddily and tore through the building, bringing it to its knees. Soon

goods worth many billions became a mountain of hissing ash and billowing rubble.

Who knows what it would cost to have a piece of good firefighting equipment in a gated section of a large city where over a million people live? If the Fire Station in Festac is dead, why not bury it? If the government can’t fight a blaze on a simple two-storey building, why approve the construction of buildings higher than mango trees? 

The Temple Hill Supermarket incident might have been unavoidable, but the losses suffered could have been significantly mitigated. But everybody has moved on. Festac fire service will remain moribund. Politicians will continue their jamborees. No autopsy will be done. No sanctions will be dished. No lessons will be learnt. 

Nigeria, I hail thee!