Just off the Badagry coastline lies Jegeme Island, a place of quiet beauty and layered history that reflects both the promise and the paradox of Badagry itself.

Surrounded by lagoons, mangroves and open water, the island offers a rare sense of calm in Lagos State. Yet beneath its natural appeal is a long-standing story of neglect that mirrors the wider challenges facing many riverine communities in Badagry.

A short boat ride from #Ajido jetty takes visitors away from the bustle of the mainland into a slower, water-bound world. Canoes glide across the lagoon, fishing nets dry in the sun, and the landscape opens into largely untouched beaches. For anyone looking at tourism through the lens of authenticity rather than spectacle, Jegeme Island already has what many destinations spend millions trying to manufacture.

The island’s identity is deeply rooted in migration. Its people are largely descendants of Ghanaian, Togolese and Beninoise settlers, predominantly #Ewe and #Gbe - speaking fishing communities whose movements along the West African coast date back centuries.

Oral accounts link early migrations to the 18th-century #Dahomey wars, while more permanent settlement followed in the early 1900s, when families sought safety and livelihood along the Badagry lagoon corridor.

Over generations, seasonal fishing camps became a settled community. Intermarriage, cultural exchange and long-term residence blurred borders, and many residents eventually naturalised as Nigerians. Jegeme Island today stands as a living reminder that Badagry’s history has always been international, shaped by mobility, trade and adaptation.

Yet history and beauty alone do not build prosperity. Accounts from residents and visitors underline how little government presence has reached the island. In 2006, census supervisor Obiajulu Felix recalls working in Jegeme when there was no school, no hospital, no electricity and no visible government infrastructure. Access was solely by boat, a round trip that could take close to an hour. Nearly two decades later, the perception remains that little has changed.

This neglect is not isolated to Jegeme. Nearby Ajido, another riverine Badagry community, has repeatedly featured in discussions about flooding, poor infrastructure and social exclusion.

During a visit, former Lagos governorship aspirant Olajide Azeez Adeniran, popularly known as Jandor, described being overwhelmed by the scale of deprivation – from flood risks to schools lacking basic furniture, sanitation and learning facilities. His remarks echoed what many Badagry residents have long argued: that communities rich in natural and cultural assets have been left behind by development planning.

Ironically, these same communities hold some of Badagry’s strongest economic opportunities. Jegeme Island, Ajido and similar settlements sit within a corridor that could support eco-tourism, heritage tourism and community-based hospitality. The elements are already present: water transport routes, distinctive culture, historical narratives, fishing traditions, and serene natural environments that appeal to both domestic and international visitors.

Tourism, if properly planned, could become more than a photo opportunity. Modest investments in jetties, safety-regulated boat services, renewable electricity, schools, primary healthcare and flood control would not only improve quality of life for residents but also make the area viable for visitors. Community-led tourism models could ensure that locals benefit directly through fishing tours, cultural storytelling, homestays, crafts and food services.

Badagry’s broader narrative already positions it as a heritage destination – the cradle of Christianity in Nigeria, home to the first storey building and key transatlantic slave trade landmarks. Jegeme Island adds another dimension: a living story of African migration, resilience and continuity by the water. Ignoring it is not just a social failure; it is an economic one.

As Lagos continues to search for sustainable growth beyond congestion-driven urban expansion, Badagry’s riverine and coastal assets present a clear alternative. The question is no longer whether places like Jegeme Island have value, but whether policy-makers are willing to see tourism as a tool for inclusive development rather than an afterthought.

#Jegeme Island may be quiet, but its message is loud. Badagry’s future economy does not lie only in roads and real estate. It also lies in its islands, lagoons, histories and people – waiting, patiently, to be taken seriously.