One dead, 26 rescued as Lagos building collapses in Oyingbo

A two-storey building in Oyingbo collapsed in the early hours of Monday, October 27, 2025, killing at least one person and trapping others under rubble — a grim reminder of how easily Nigeria’s urban infrastructure can fail. By 12:20 a.m. West Africa Time, emergency calls flooded the Lagos State Fire and Rescue Service (LFRS), triggering an immediate response from the Sari-Iganmu Fire Station. Within hours, Margaret Adeseye, Director of LFRS, confirmed 26 survivors pulled alive from the debris, but the human cost was already clear: one body recovered. The twist? A Channels Television report claimed two bodies had been found. Official sources didn’t confirm it. And that uncertainty — the gap between media and authority — is itself part of the story.

What Happened at 54 Cole Street?

The building at 54 Cole Street wasn’t just any structure. It was a residential building in one of Lagos’s oldest, most crowded neighborhoods — packed with families, small businesses, and rented rooms. Residents said the walls had been cracking for weeks. Neighbors reported hearing groaning sounds late at night. Some even complained to local officials. But nothing changed. When the collapse came, it happened while people slept. "It gave way while residents were still inside," Adeseye said in her official update. No warning. No evacuation. Just silence, then dust, then screams.

Rescuers worked through the night with bare hands and metal rods. By morning, 26 survivors — seven men, four women, four children — had been pulled out, many with broken limbs and internal injuries. They were rushed to the Federal Medical Centre in Ebute-Metta and General Hospital, Odan, two of Lagos’s oldest and most overburdened medical facilities. The first patient arrived at 3:15 a.m. The last at 4:47 p.m. The hospital’s trauma unit, already stretched thin, had to turn away three ambulances because they were full.

A Pattern of Failure

This isn’t the first time Lagos has watched a building crumble with people inside. In September 2025, a four-storey structure under construction in Yaba collapsed, killing seven. Before that? November 2021. The Ikoyi luxury apartment block that killed 42. Same story: illegal floors, fake permits, ignored warnings. The LFRS report bluntly called it "a pattern of structural failures linked to weak enforcement of regulations, sub-standard materials, and inadequate inspections."

Experts say the problem isn’t just corruption — though that’s part of it. It’s also desperation. Lagos has over 15 million people crammed into a city designed for half that. Land is scarce. Rent is high. Builders cut corners because tenants will pay for anything with a roof. And regulators? They’re understaffed, underpaid, and sometimes complicit. One former building inspector told a local journalist last year: "I’ve seen permits signed with fake stamps. I’ve seen inspectors paid in cash to look the other way. What do you expect?"

Who’s Responsible?

As of October 27, authorities hadn’t named the building’s owner, contractor, or even when it was built. That’s not unusual. In Lagos, many structures are owned by absentee landlords or shell companies. The building at Cole Street was reportedly approved for two stories — but many in the neighborhood believed it had been illegally extended. One resident, who asked not to be named, said: "The landlord added a third floor last year. He said it was just a storage room. But people lived there. I saw their mattresses on the floor."

Meanwhile, the Lagos State Fire and Rescue Service continues searching for more survivors. "We’re not stopping," Adeseye said in a press briefing at 4 p.m. October 27. "There are still people missing. We’re using thermal imaging and listening devices. We won’t leave until we know for sure." But the chances of finding anyone alive after 16 hours under rubble? Slim. The heat. The weight. The silence.

What Comes Next?

The state government has promised an investigation. But history suggests little will change. After Ikoyi, there were promises of new laws. After Yaba, there were press conferences. After every collapse, officials vow to "strengthen enforcement." And then? Nothing. The same contractors keep getting permits. The same inspectors keep turning a blind eye. The same families keep renting unsafe rooms.

What’s different this time? Maybe the number. Twenty-six survivors. One confirmed death. But possibly two. And the fact that this happened in Oyingbo — a place where middle-class families live, not just the poorest. This wasn’t an informal settlement. It was a residential building in a commercial zone. People with jobs. With bank accounts. With children in school. When it happens to them, the city can’t ignore it.

Still, the real question isn’t who built it. It’s who let it stand.