By Jennifer Odii
Let’s talk about house rent. That figure that quietly eats half your pay cheque, wages or salary. That monthly or yearly ritual of negotiation, panic, and fervent prayer. From Lagos and Accra to Monrovia. Rent is not just high—it is now offensive. But before we clutch our pearls and blame landlords alone, it is time to ask: who’s really responsible for this economic sabotage disguised as housing?
First, let’s eliminate the myth of “greedy landlords” as the only villains. Yes, some landlords charge obscene amounts for glorified shanties and pigeonholes. But they’re just the last link in a greedy, long, and broken chain.
The truth is that the African housing market is a pyramid scheme that is supported by policy failures, crony capitalism, corrupt bureaucracy, a building materials crisis left to fester, house agents operating extortionist schemes, and the manipulation of property values that inflate your rent.
To build a house in Nigeria today, cement costs between N8,000 and N13,000 per bag (approx. $8). In Ghana, building materials have jumped over 30 per cent in a year. In Liberia, the cost of nails, roofing sheets, and timber is tethered to global currency swings. Add land speculation, multiple taxation, lack of mortgage access, and poor infrastructure, and you’ve got a perfect storm.
The result? Fewer houses built, higher cost to build, and an even higher cost to rent. This isn’t just economics; it’s the impact of the building materials crisis no one wants to solve, a failure to leverage local resources and stabilise supply chains.
Every few years, we hear the phrase “affordable housing” tossed around by government officials, developers, and donor agencies like some magic fix for Africa’s urban chaos. It shows up in glossy brochures, and international summits as if simply saying it makes it real. A shiny ribbon-cutting ceremony. A prototype flat. Maybe even a smart city announcement. But the rent on these so-called “affordable” homes is often out of reach for the average income earner.
Consider this: In Nigeria, over 80 per cent of the urban population lives in informal settlements. In Ghana, housing deficits hover around two million. Liberia faces similar shortages. Meanwhile, the minimum wage in these countries ranges between $60–$90 per month. In Lagos, a so-called affordable flat might cost N8m ($5,000) or more, when over 70 per cent of the population earns less than N120,000 ($75) monthly. In Accra, rental advances of two years are demanded upfront—effectively excluding most citizens. So, who exactly are these homes affordable for?
The truth is, African housing policy is a mirage—full of headlines, devoid of real access. The term “affordable housing” has become a smokescreen that allows governments to avoid structural reform while offering photo-op solutions.
But even beyond the visible failures of policy and economy, hidden hands are manipulating the market. Consider the investor, perhaps someone seeking ‘clean’ questionable funds, who colludes with a developer to deliberately inflate the purchase price on the official receipt. The $30,000 property is now listed as $60,000 on paper. Why does this hidden transaction matter to you, the renter struggling to pay $5,000 a year? Because that false $60,000 figure then becomes the ‘justification’ for exorbitant rent demands.
The investor, having potentially laundered money on the front end, now demands a rental yield based on a lie. Your struggle to pay rent is, in part, paying for someone else’s inflated paper trail. This isn’t just market speculation; it’s a distortion of value that directly lands as a burden on the tenants.
Adding insult to injury is the layer of exploitation introduced by unregulated house agents.
Consider this: Since the beginning of discussions around “Justice for Africans and People of African Descent Through Reparations” at the United Nations, many from the African diaspora have sought to reconnect by visiting or even living in Africa.
On one such visit, an African American, [Names Withheld], decided to experience life in Lagos. Connecting with agents through a friend, he quickly encountered a harsh reality that thousands of local renters face daily. He was hit with demands for an exorbitant array of fees: application fees, inspection fees, registration fees, non-disclosure fees, agency fees, legal fees, and caution fees. The sum of these charges alone amounted to a staggering figure—in his case, potentially enough to cover nearly a year’s actual house rent for a different tenant elsewhere in Lekki, Lagos—just for the supposed service of facilitating a transaction.
Some agents take money, innocuously labelled ‘inspection’ and ‘application’ fees, from multiple potential renters for the same property, fully aware only one can possibly secure it. The others are left hanging, their scarce funds swallowed by often unwritten, ‘non-refundable’ policies.
These agents are not just middlemen; they have become gatekeepers of misery. They add unnecessary costs to the process and profit shamelessly from those simply seeking shelter. There is no price control, no certification requirement, and no regulatory body holding them accountable, leaving tenants vulnerable to their schemes and adding another unjust layer to the already exorbitant cost of rent.
Who’s really to blame?
We must redirect our anger. Not just at landlords alone. But at governments who are perpetuating policy failures; opaque land administration systems that fuel property speculations; developers who build only for the rich and partner with cronies for land grabs; unregulated and extortionist schemes of house agents, preying on tenants; banks and financial systems that refuse to create low-interest housing finance tools; those with platforms and resources who often remain silent on systemic housing issues, focusing instead on navigating the broken system for personal gain and renters, who out of desperation or a lack of awareness, pay illegal fees without protest, accept verbal agreements and hesitate to report violations to absent or ineffective authorities.
Provocative solutions? Yes!
Declare housing a national emergency with measurable targets, not slogans.
Control material costs by supporting local manufacturing of building materials.
Fix land administration to make access transparent, quick, and digital.
Support cooperatives and community land trusts to democratise housing finance.
Redesign cities to integrate rural migrants through mixed-income zoning and social infrastructure.
Radical idea: Cap rental prices in over-supplied urban districts and incentivise landlords who lower rent. This is not a call for pity. It is a demand for structural change because our house rent isn’t just too high. It is a symptom of a failed economic and policy architecture. And if we don’t change the foundation, we’ll keep rebuilding “expensive slums” with nicer names.
The rent is due. But so is justice.
Odii, an entrepreneur and founder of Real Estate Stakeholders Support Initiative, writes from Port Harcourt via [email protected]
