The Magazine

The Impact of Oil Pollution on Ilaje Indigenous Communities

March 10, 2026
By: Adetokunbo Abiola

“When I say I didn’t catch fish,” said Fehintola Alebiosu, a 37-year-old fisherman from Ayetoro in the Ilaje community of Ondo State, in southwestern Nigeria, “the response is always the same: ‘didn’t catch fish? Beside the Atlantic Ocean? You must be joking.’ Then they look at me with doubt, believing I’m lying.”

His words reflected the lived reality of fishermen in this part of the world: the bewilderment of outsiders at dwindling fish stocks, the astonishment at the poverty faced by Ilaje fishermen, and the shock at the conditions in which they live.

To the outsider, Ilaje—made up of over 400 communities stretched across 84 kilometers of Nigeria’s coastline— should abound with fish species such as mackerel, croaker, eels, and blue fish.

In 2020, fishermen on the Atlantic Ocean caught an estimated 21 million tonnes of fish. In sharp contrast, fishing communities in Ilaje have experienced steep declines in their catches, with a 5.94 percent drop in species of fish, crustaceans, and plants. This disparity raises a critical question: what has driven such losses?

For communities in Ilaje, fish decline is the consequence of oil production in the area, and Alebiosu’s experience reflects the consequences of these oil exploration activities. Ilaje communities are made up of four core traditional entities—Ode Ugbo, Ode Mahin, Ode Etikan, and Aheri—whose people have long relied on farming and fishing and are known for their seafood. Oil companies such as Chevron, Shell, and others sidelined local fishermen when oil spills occurred.

Although Ilaje communities have contributed an estimated 60,000 barrels of oil per day to Nigeria’s national output since oil production began in the mid-20th century, they remain on the receiving end of its costs. This outcome is not accidental but the result of a cycle in which oil wealth failed to reach local communities—a pattern shaped by colonial arrangements and sustained by post-colonial policies.

Oil exploration, which has contributed to rising sea levels in Ilaje communities, has led to 70 percent territorial loss and polluted the coastal water, forcing fish to move in search of safer habitats, according to Sola Ebiseni, a prominent Ilaje politician. Oil spills and gas flaring linked to decades of extraction have severely disrupted marine ecosystems, leaving fishermen to struggle for survival in waters where fish were once abundant but are now increasingly scarce.

Alebiosu’s experiences mirror those of countless others. Oladele Kehinde, for example, saw his catch fall by 70% between 2015 and 2025. This crisis extends beyond fish scarcity alone. Oil exploitation has led to the destruction of farmlands, environmental damage, erosion, and contaminated water. The consequences permeated everywhere in Ilaje land: from key settlements such as Mahin, Igbokoda, and Ayetoro, to other coastal communities.

Owepebijo Omonuwa, a 58-year-old fisherman from Ayetoro, described a similar decline. “My fish catch fell by 50 percent in the last ten years,” he said. He worries about the future collapse of fishing due to environmental degradation, climate change, and economic pressures.

Environmentalist Eugene Nweke argues that poor governance, lack of transparency, and weak post-colonial institutional arrangements are also central to the crisis. Oil exploration did not lead to improvements in living conditions: instead, discriminatory colonial policies pushed Ilaje fishermen into poverty and debt, fuelling inequality. As fish stocks dwindled, fishermen migrated, contributing to therural-urban drift. This, in turn, led to dangerous journeys, disruption of family structures, and increased competition for scarce resources.

Still, Ilaje fishermen pushed for change. The Fishermen Association of Nigeria (Ilaje Chapter) called on the government to take urgent action to combat the environmental damage in the area and hold oil companies accountable. Activists warned that without swift intervention, the fishing business would not only collapse, but the entire coastal communities could be wiped out.

Colonial Roots of the Crisis

The roots of Ilaje’s fishing crisis trace back to British colonial rule, which prioritized resource extraction over local welfare. By granting exclusive rights to foreign oil companies such as Shell and treating oil exploration as a national revenue imperative, colonial authorities largely ignored pollution and its effects on local communities. This approach entrenched corporate operations while leaving the consequences for Ilaje’s fishermen unaddressed.

Paul Ugor of McMaster University has argued that oil exploration shifted from colonial exploitation to a neo-colonial structure where multinational oil companies colluded with unscrupulous Nigerians to amass wealth. The result was environmental degradation and the marginalization of farmers and fishermen, leading to want, poverty, and despair. In the process, the voices of people like Alebiosu were ignored.

Another enduring legacy of colonialism can be seen in the structure of the oil sector itself. Companies were granted vast exploration rights, laying the groundwork for unequal control over resources and leaving local populations with little say. In many instances, the federal government protected the rights of oil companies, sometimes through the use of force against the Ilaje community. Human Rights Watch has documented instances where abusive local security forces used violence to secure oil flows in the face of community opposition.

Two Paths from Colonial Rule: Algeria and Nigeria

Unlike Nigeria, Algeria fully nationalized its oil and gas sector in 1971, taking control of resources previously managed under French colonial rule. The new model ensured that oil fields were situated in the Saharan Desert, minimizing direct daily impact on large residential populations.

Nigeria, in contrast, retained the colonial frameworks that allowed the oil fields to be situated within communities like Ilaje. Federal ownership of resources, reinforced through doctrines like the Doctrine of Discovery, prioritized federal resource ownership over local rights. Limited reinvestment in communities such as Ayetoro, Yoren, and Mahin created an enclave industry detached from local development.

The results were far-reaching: destruction of aquatic ecosystems, loss of fishing gear, and reduced fish stocks. As Gboyega Oyetola, Nigeria’s Minister of Marine and Blue Economy, said recently, this trend is “unsustainable—economically, nutritionally, and environmentally.”

Ilaje History

To understand how oil production impacted real communities, it is necessary to examine Ilaje’s history. Ilaje fishermen descended from migrants of Ile-Ife around the 10th century and became seafarers along the Atlantic coast, thriving in the harsh riverine and coastal environment. For the Ilaje, fishing was not just a job; it was a way of life.

Yet in 1998, a major oil spill marked a turning point, devastating the coastal ecosystems, killing large numbers of fish, and contaminating water sources. For Ilaje fishermen, it ended any lingering sense that their livelihoods would be protected. The government and the oil companies failed to carry out adequate cleanup, pushing communities deeper into poverty and making the daily consumption of polluted water an unfortunate reality. Repeated oil spills over the years reinforced this decline.

Born and raised in Ayetoro, Oluwole Omope revealed the depth of anger against oil exploration to HumAngle in 2023. “We’re angry because this is an oil community, yet we suffer. We’ve seen cases of people dying from oil exploration, including my sister. Today, I feel pain, because she left a lot of children that are supposed to be catered for.” Like many Ilaje Indigenes, Omope saw firsthand how oil exploration affected fishing.

Omope reflected on the 1998 oil spill as a moment that ushered in widespread poverty. Growing up, oil spills were synonymous with pain and loss. In the absence of meaningful state intervention, he said, the harms of oil exploration continued unchecked, leaving communities with little recourse. Nigerian scholars Ike Okonta and Oronto Douglas described oil extraction as a “vicious ecological war,” one in which local populations became victims in the very region they had inhabited for centuries.

Against this broader backdrop, Ilaje fishermen were forced to adapt to survive. Many developed both behavioral and ecological adaptations, diversifying their livelihoods and altering their fishing techniques. Others looked toward technological fixes to cope with the impacts of oil exploration and environmental change.

Chief Sola Ebiseni warned that without government-led technological solutions to address ocean surges, communities risk being overwhelmed. “Otherwise, we are on the verge of being wiped out by the Atlantic,” he told Daily Trust Newspaper.

Still, Ilaje fishing traditions endure. Fathers and mothers teach fishing skills to their children, who skip classes to toil in the ocean, rivers, and creeks, catching fish. The Chief Fisherman manages the beach and mediates community disputes. Cultural practices such as the Malokun Festival, boat regattas, and Umale and Epo masquerades preserve Ilaje traditions and identity.

Call for Reform

Experts urged the federal government to reciprocate the resilience shown by the Ilaje by holding oil companies accountable—something the government resists. This requires several measures: strengthening oil exploration regulations, enforcing federal high court jurisdictions on oil environment issues, updating laws, ensuring compliance with laws related to pollution, ensuring timely compensation to fishermen after oil spills, investigating environmental damage, and leveraging citizen reporting.

At present, Nigeria stands at a crossroads. The country relies increasingly on fish imports to feed a growing population, yet it faces the urgent need to build a sustainable domestic fishing industry. The systemic marginalization of Ilaje fishermen and other coastal communities underscores the need for substantive reform—not cosmetic change—if sustainability is to be achieved.

As Alebiosu and Kehinde have argued, the stakes have never been higher. “We’re fighting against the destruction of our livelihood,” Alebiosu once told this writer. “We’re fighting for the survival of our culture and tradition.”

Reimagining the Future

Imagine a Nigeria where fishermen once again reap bountiful harvests from the Atlantic Ocean; where oil spills and gas flaring have ceased; where colonial and neo-colonial legacies no longer dictate environmental and economic policy; and where a thriving fishing sector strengthens cultural practices and community cohesion. In such a Nigeria, Ilaje fishermen and women could flourish once more.

Oil exploration need not remain an obstacle to fishing livelihoods. Nigeria’s greatest strength lies in its skilled fishermen—people like Alebiosu and Kehinde—whose knowledge and labor have sustained coastal communities for generations. Breaking free from colonial structures is essential to realizing that future.

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About the Author

Adetokunbo Abiola is a Nigerian journalist who writes at the intersection of climate change, technology, and health. He is also the author of Labulabu Mask, a novel, and American 419 and Other Stories, a collection of short stories.