In Nigeria’s Niger Delta, communities are fighting to restore and protect their disappearing coastal forests.
Crude oil fumes hang in the thick air. What had been a lush, green tangle of roots and branches has become a graveyard of ashen stumps whose roots were choked by pollution. “The Waters we used to fish in are now dead water,” says Ebi Tamuno, a fisherman from Bonny Island. “The mangroves protected us — so who will protect them now?”
The Niger Delta in Nigeria is a densely inhabited area in South-South Nigeria on Africa's West Coast, home to one of the world’s most extensive mangrove forests. Six true mangrove species are found in the Niger Delta, with Rhizophora spp.—the red mangrove dominating over 90% of the landscape.
Mangrove forests support unique biodiversity on both land and in the sea, including fishes, birds, mammals, and threatened megafauna. Research has also shown that mangroves are among the most carbon-rich forests in the tropics, sequestering up to four times more carbon per hectare than tropical rainforests. This makes them powerful allies in the fight against climate change. Mangroves in the Niger Delta are being lost at an alarming rate. The current leading cause of mangrove loss in the Niger Delta is crude oil spills and artisanal refining. Other factors have also been reported to cause the loss of mangrove forests in the region which includes: urbanisation, conversion of mangrove forests for agriculture and aquaculture, construction, deforestation, overpopulation, the invasion of nipa palm in the mangrove ecosystem, oil industry pollution and climate change. "When we lose mangroves, we lose everything," explains Dr. Nenibarini Zabbey, coordinator of the Centre for Environment, Human Rights and Development. "The carbon storage, the fisheries, the protection are all gone."
Yet despite decades of degradation, communities across the Niger Delta are rising to protect and restore these vital wetlands. Local communities are combining traditional knowledge with modern conservation techniques to save these critical ecosystems.
Nigeria boasts the largest mangrove ecosystem in Africa and the third largest in the world, covering approximately 10,000 square kilometers along its coastline. Mangrove forests enhance fisheries production by supporting resilient and productive food webs. The mangroves provide nursery grounds for marine life, serving as the foundation of local fishing economies that support more than 30 million people across the region. They also function as natural barriers against coastal erosion and storm surges, increasingly important as climate change intensifies extreme weather events.
Since the late 1950's when oil was discovered in Niger delta, oil exploration and exploitation in that region have caused significant environmental problems, including oil spills, pollution, and habitat destruction. According to Nigeria's Oil Spill Monitor, more than 12,000 oil spill incidents have been recorded, though experts believe many more go unreported. The black crude coats mangrove roots, suffocating them and destroying the habitat. Gas flaring releases toxins into the air and contributes to acid rain, further stressing the ecosystem.
Climate change has compounded these challenges. Rising sea levels alter the delicate balance of freshwater and saltwater that mangroves depend on. This has caused changes in the rainfall patterns which affects the sediment flow that nourishes the trees. "We see the waters rising every year," says Chief Boma Briggs from Bonny Island. "Places where my grandparents farmed now underwater."
But across the Niger Delta, indigenous knowledge systems have protected sections of mangrove forest for generations. Local taboos and cultural practices have preserved sacred groves and restricted harvesting in certain areas. Traditional fishing methods evolved to maintain ecological balance. "Our ancestors knew that if you destroy the mangrove, you destroy yourself," says Chief Briggs. "We had rules about which trees could be cut, when fishing could happen, how much could be taken."
These traditional systems are now being integrated with scientific conservation approaches in community-led initiatives across the region. In Andoni Local Government Area, a women's cooperative has established a mangrove nursery that has successfully replanted over 20 hectares of degraded forest. The women collect healthy propagules (mangrove seedlings) from intact forests, nurture them in protected nurseries, and strategically plant them in areas damaged by oil spills or clearing.
"We started with just ten women," Osaroejiji recalls. "Now we have more than fifty women working together. We teach our daughters the importance of the mangroves, how to care for them. This knowledge almost disappeared, but we're bringing it back."
The restoration process is labor-intensive and requires patience. Workers must carefully clean oil-contaminated mud before replanting can begin. They monitor water quality and adjust their techniques based on local conditions. "Each site is different," explains one community volunteer. "Some places need more freshwater, some need different species. We learn by doing."
In Ogoniland, communities have partnered with international organizations to implement more advanced restoration techniques. After decades of devastating oil pollution, the United Nations Environment Programme conducted a comprehensive assessment that led to recommendations for cleanup and restoration. Though progress has been slow, community monitors now track recovery at restoration sites, documenting the gradual return of crabs, mollusks, and fish - indicators of ecosystem health.
Community radio programs share best practices for mangrove conservation in local languages. Schools incorporate mangrove education into their curricula, with students participating in planting days. "The children are now teaching their parents," laughs a local teacher. "They come home and scold them if they see them cutting mangroves."
Challenges remain significant. Ongoing oil spills from aging infrastructure continue to threaten restored areas. Military forces sometimes clash with community monitors. Legal frameworks for community management of resources remain weak. And economic alternatives to mangrove harvesting are still insufficient in many areas.
"We need government to enforce environmental laws," argues Tijah Bolton-Akpan, executive director of Policy Alert. "Communities are doing their part, but companies continue to pollute with little consequence." The Nigerian government has established the Hydrocarbon Pollution Remediation Project (HYPREP) to implement cleanup recommendations, but progress has been criticized as too slow and lacking in transparency.
Innovative funding mechanisms are emerging to support community conservation efforts. Carbon credit programs, which quantify and sell the carbon sequestration value of mangroves on international markets, show promise. One pilot project in Akwa Ibom state has generated funds that support both restoration work and alternative livelihood development.
"Before, we only saw value in cutting the trees," says a participant in the carbon project. "Now we understand the living forest is worth more." The project has helped finance sustainable fishing equipment, aquaculture ponds, and beekeeping initiatives that reduce pressure on mangrove resources.
International recognition is growing for these community efforts. The Mangrove Action Project has documented Niger Delta restoration techniques as a model for other regions. The United Nations Development Programme has provided grants to scale up successful initiatives. But community leaders emphasize that the work must remain rooted in local ownership and knowledge.
"We are not waiting for government or oil companies to save our mangroves," insists Gbujie Daniel Chidubem, a young climate activist. "We're taking action ourselves because these forests are our heritage and our future." His organization, Team 54 Project, mobilizes youth volunteers for restoration work and advocacy campaigns.
Dawn breaks over a restored section of mangrove forest in Bayelsa state. Birds call from the branches, and the muddy banks reveal the tracks of returning wildlife. Michael Uwemedimo, a documentarian who has recorded the restoration process over several years says, "When we began filming, this area was dead - just black mud and stumps. Now listen to the life returning."
The children of the Niger Delta may inherit a coastline different from that of their grandparents. But through the determined efforts of community guardians, the essential mangrove ecosystems that have sustained life here for millennia have a fighting chance. "We are the mangroves, and the mangroves are us," says Ebi Tamuno as he guides his boat through the channels. "As long as we remember this, there is hope."
The story of Nigeria's mangrove guardians offers lessons for coastal communities worldwide facing similar threats. By valuing traditional knowledge, engaging communities as conservation leaders, and creating economic incentives for protection, restoration becomes possible even in the most degraded environments. As the world grapples with climate change and biodiversity loss, the Niger Delta's community conservationists are lighting a path forward - one mangrove seedling at a time.