A fierce windstorm battered Ilorin and Ogele/Eyenkorin in Kwara State Sunday, shattering Eid festivities with torrential rains and chaos. Over 200 homes suffered severe damage, displacing families.
Roofs tore from buildings as winds flattened 20 structures, including schools and businesses. Communities like Eyenkorin and Ogele now resemble war zones, littered with debris.
Power lines snapped, plunging neighborhoods into darkness while storm-blocked drains flooded streets near Kuntu Bridge. Residents waded through murky water, salvaging soaked belongings.
Ogele Primary School lost its roof entirely; classrooms at Wilson School crumbled. Fifteen private schools faced similar fates, disrupting education for countless children.
Families huddled under tarps or moved in with neighbors, their voices trembling as they recounted narrow escapes. “We barely grabbed our children before the roof flew off,” shared Aisha, a mother of three.
Zubairu Abiola, Ifelodun’s vice chairman, pleaded for state aid: “Our people sleep in ruins—Governor AbdulRazaq must act now.” He recalled past state support, urging swift intervention.
Meanwhile, volunteers cleared rubble and donated clothes, their efforts overshadowed by the scale of loss. “No one should suffer like this,” muttered Tunde, a local trader coordinating relief.
The storm’s timing deepened woes—many had spent savings on Eid preparations. Now, they queue for food aid, their celebrations replaced by despair.
Health workers warn of disease outbreaks from stagnant water and shattered sanitation systems. Clinics report rising cases of injuries and respiratory infections.
Farmers surveyed destroyed crops, their livelihoods buried under mud. “This was our harvest hope,” lamented Ibrahim, staring at flattened maize fields.
Despite grassroots efforts, anger simmers over delayed government response. “Where are our leaders?” demanded Halima, clutching her toddler near a collapsed shop.
Critics highlight neglected infrastructure, noting recurring storms expose poor urban planning. “Drainages clogged for years caused this,” argued engineer Funke Adebayo, urging systemic reforms.
Governor AbdulRazaq’s silence fuels frustration, though aides hint at “imminent relief plans.” Meanwhile, lawmakers debate emergency funds amid growing public scrutiny.
Teachers improvise outdoor classes under trees, determined to keep students learning. “Education can’t wait for roofs,” said Mrs. Okoro, chalk in hand.
Youths patrol streets nightly, fearing looters might target exposed homes. “We protect each other now,” declared 19-year-old Yusuf, flashlight in hand.
The storm’s scars stretch beyond bricks—families grieve lost heirlooms, children whisper of terrifying winds, elders mourn eroded community bonds.
As Kwara rebuilds, calls grow for climate-resilient housing and early warning systems. “Nature’s wrath meets human neglect,” sighed activist Chidinma Nwosu. “We must change or keep suffering.”
Survivors cling to hope, stitching lives back together. But without urgent action, the next storm could erase their fragile progress.