Nigeria’s construction sector is blind to the climate — and no one is talking about it

SOStainabilityWeekly

By Oke Epia, E-mail: sostainability01@gmail.com  | WhatsApp: +234 8034000706

Trends and threads

Nigeria is building at a pace we haven’t seen in decades. New highways, estates, industrial zones, and public works are reshaping the country’s landscape, and the construction sector is right at the centre of that momentum. But as the physical structures rise, something far less visible becomes impossible to ignore: most of the companies driving this growth are saying very little about how they intend to operate in a climate-constrained future.

This gap is not a minor detail. Construction and cement production are some of the most emission-intensive activities in the country, and their choices directly influence whether Nigeria can meet its climate commitments. Yet a search for the policies, reports, targets, or governance structures on how these companies are preparing for the transition ahead paints a picture that emerges as thin, uneven, and, in many cases, completely absent. It is a gap that raises questions about readiness, long-term competitiveness, and whether climate risk has truly entered the boardroom in a sector this important.

The SOStainabilityVisibility Scan (SVS)…

Our assessment applied the SOStainability Visibility Scan (SVS) to ten major firms across Nigeria’s building, construction, and cement manufacturing sectors. These companies were selected because they shape the country’s built environment at scale and influence a significant share of national emissions. The dataset includes multinational engineering firms such as Julius Berger, Arab Contractors, and CCECC; indigenous firms such as Cappa&D’Alberto, ELALAN, Dantata&Sawoe, RCC, and Costain; and Nigeria’s three largest cement producers—Dangote Cement, Lafarge Africa, and BUA Cement.

The methodology used is intentionally strict. A company receives credit only for what it publicly displays on its official website. No weight is given to information shared informally, mentioned on LinkedIn, or described by insiders. All data used in this scan was obtained strictly from information that each company has chosen to publish online. This approach aligns with the Climate Change Act, which places transparency at the centre of national climate governance through relevant provisions on carbon budgets, public access to climate information, and corporate responsibility to disclose environmental data. If a climate policy is not visible, it cannot influence market signals. If reporting is not accessible, it cannot support accountability. If governance roles are not disclosed, they cannot be validated.

The SVS evaluates visibility across four dimensions: Climate Policy, Climate Reporting, Target Setting, and Climate Governance, each scored from 0 to 3 for a total possible score of 12. The scores determine whether a company is Achieving Expectation, Approaching Expectation, Below Expectation, or a Non-Starter. These categories reflect visibility only, not a statement on the completeness and quality or a validation of any company’s climate claims.

Within the Achieving Expectation category are Dangote Cement and Julius Berger Nigeria. Both companies publish structured sustainability content, make reports available, and disclose identifiable governance arrangements. Dangote Cement provides annual sustainability reports and a defined sustainability leadership role, while Julius Berger publishes recent reports and outlines board-level oversight. The main gaps relate to the absence of prominently displayed, time-bound, climate-specific targets on their public-facing websites.

The Approaching Expectation category includes Lafarge Africa, Arab Contractors and CCECC. Lafarge Africa provides substantive sustainability content, including measurable CO₂-related figures, though the information is harder to access as it sits within sub-pages. Arab Contractors publishes a sustainability policy and expresses environmental ambitions, but its reporting is not recent and measurable targets are limited. CCECC has a long-span CSR report and general CSR statements, but lacks current climate-focused policies, targets and governance disclosures. These companies demonstrate partial progress but require clearer, more recent and more structured visibility.

The Below Expectation category comprises BUA Cement, Dantata&Sawoe, Cappa&D’Alberto and ELALAN. BUA Cement publishes general sustainability content within its Annual Report, but does not provide standalone climate reporting, measurable targets, or a disclosed sustainability governance structure. Dantata&Sawoe references environmental responsibility in broad terms, but does not present structured policies or reporting, and governance information is limited to HSE. Cappa&D’Alberto and ELALAN publish high-level environmental statements but lack dedicated sustainability policies, climate reports, measurable targets, or identifiable governance roles. Visibility across these firms remains limited and fragmented.

The Non-Starter group includes CGC, RCC Nigeria, and Costain West Africa. These companies do not maintain functional corporate websites with sustainability or climate-related information, making it impossible to assess their visibility or alignment with the transparency expectations of the Climate Change Act.

A sector racing to build, yet failing todecarbonise

One of the clearest insights from the scan is the limited visibility across much of the construction sector. Although the industry contributes significantly to emissions through cement production, diesel-powered equipment, and resource-intensive construction processes, many operators provide little public information on how they are approaching climate risks. This creates a noticeable contrast: a sector central to Nigeria’s infrastructure expansion is not yet disclosing how it intends to operate within a climate-constrained economy.

This gap goes beyond communication. It suggests that climate considerations are not yet embedded in operational or strategic decision-making for many firms responsible for roads, bridges, industrial works, and large-scale infrastructure. As global and national expectations shift, transparency is increasingly linked to access to finance, procurement qualification, and regulatory compliance. Limited disclosure, therefore, is not merely a visibility challenge; it may indicate insufficient preparation for the emerging policy landscape and market requirements under the Climate Change Act and other relevant legislation.

The disconnect between rapid construction activity and minimal climate transparency is not incidental. Nigeria is expanding its infrastructure at an unprecedented pace, yet most companies contributing to this growth are not publicly demonstrating how they intend to manage the emissions associated with their operations. This creates a sector that is advancing quickly in physical terms while remaining static in climate readiness—an imbalance with implications for the country’s transition efforts.

These concerns become even more relevant when viewed through the lens of major national projects. The Lagos–Calabar Coastal Highway illustrates this reality clearly. While a draft Environmental and Social Impact Assessment exists for one section of the project, the full emissions profile for the entire 700-kilometre route has not yet been made publicly visible. Similarly, contractor-level climate disclosures relating to how the project aligns with national mitigation objectives are not available on company websites. This does not suggest that assessments may not have been conducted, but it highlights the ongoing challenge of ensuring that climate-relevant information is readily accessible to the public. Projects of this scale carry substantial environmental and climate considerations, yet the visibility of how these are being addressed remains limited. These are issues that require closer examination, and we will return to them in a subsequent review.

Climate policy is treated like a CSR add-on

For many construction firms, “environmental responsibility” is still framed in the language of CSR, philanthropic activities, community engagement, or broad statements about safe construction practices. The gap becomes clear when companies with clear sustainability positioning are compared to those relying on generic assurance statements.

Arab Contractors, for instance, at least signals an intention to align with global sustainability language, albeit loosely. But others remain trapped in a CSR mindset that predates the Climate Change Act. Their environmental language reads like a compliance obligation rather than a strategic commitment. When a firm’s environmental statement sits next to its photo gallery of charity donations, it becomes evident that climate responsibility is not embedded in its operational identity.

A genuine climate policy does not simply state that a company “cares about the environment.” It defines boundaries, risks, commitments, and the operational implications of reducing emissions. The absence of such a policy signals that the company is not yet planning for a low-carbon market, a dangerous oversight in a sector that should be heavily regulated.

The reporting gap that hides actual emissions

In heavy industry, what is not reported cannot be managed. And what is not managed becomes a risk, operational, financial, and regulatory. That is why the near absence of sustainability reporting across the majority of construction firms is one of the most concerning findings of this scan.

The contrast across the sector is severe. Companies like Lafarge Africa and Julius Berger publish sustainability reports that speak to clear internal processes; whether or not those processes are perfect is another matter. But for most indigenous construction firms, and even for firms operating at a national scale, there is no reporting of any kind. No emissions data, no performance indicators, no progress tracking. Some firms do not even provide the most basic environmental disclosure expected under the Climate Change Act.

This gives the impression that, internally, many of these companies may not be measuring their emissions at all. And if emissions are not being measured, then these companies cannot meaningfully participate in the national carbon budgeting process that the Act anticipates. Nigeria cannot build an emissions pathway for construction if the companies driving construction cannot even produce a baseline.

The sector’s near absence on reporting, therefore, has a national consequence: it undermines Nigeria’s ability to model, regulate, and report its own progress.

Targets: The line between rhetoric and strategy

Climate ambition becomes real the moment targets appear. Targets force companies to quantify emissions, redesign operations, rethink materials, and re-examine procurement frameworks. They drive internal accountability. That is why the absence of targets across most companies is the clearest indicator that climate action has not yet become part of the sector’s operational blueprint.

Only a very small number of firms publish anything resembling measurable commitments. Others rely on aspirational language such as “we strive to reduce impact” or “we are committed to sustainability,” which has no strategic value. Without numbers, timelines or baselines, there is no basis for tracking progress or integrating climate action into project planning.

Consider the nature of construction projects: material selection, energy use, site operations, logistics and waste – all have quantifiable emissions footprints. The fact that most firms publish no targets at all signals that these emissions are neither being measured nor managed. And that places them directly at odds with where infrastructure financing and procurement standards are moving globally.

The governance vacuum

Perhaps the deepest structural weakness revealed by the scan is the absence of board-level or executive-level climate governance across most companies. Only two firms show clear sustainability leadership structures with named officers. The rest either rely entirely on Health, Safety, and Environment (HSE) units or provide no indication of who, if anyone, is responsible for climate oversight.

This has profound implications. HSE is designed to manage immediate operational risks like workplace safety or environmental spills. It is not built to handle long-term transition risks, carbon budgeting, regulatory shifts, or the financial exposure tied to emissions. When climate responsibility is buried inside HSE departments, it becomes reactive and operational rather than strategic.

The absence of governance also explains the absence of targets and reporting. Without leadership, these systems do not emerge. Without leadership, compliance becomes accidental rather than institutional. And without leadership, companies will struggle to meet even the most basic regulatory expectations in the coming years.This governance vacuum is the clearest warning signal in the entire sector.

Why these gaps should concern policy makers… and investors

The visibility gaps across the construction sector are not abstract findings. They point to systemic vulnerabilities that will soon affect procurement processes, financing decisions, and regulatory enforcement. Nigeria is entering a period where infrastructure projects will increasingly require climate justification. Global lenders, development partners, and ESG-aligned investors already demand transparency from project sponsors. Companies without a clear climate posture will find themselves at a disadvantage, slower approvals, more scrutiny, lower investor confidence, and, eventually, exclusion from high-value projects.

At a national scale, the consequences are equally significant. Construction and cement are central to Nigeria’s NDCs (Nationally Determined Contributions). If the companies in this sector are silent on climate, Nigeria’s national reporting will remain incomplete. More importantly, the country risks locking in high-carbon infrastructure that will become costly to retrofit or replace later.

A climate transition cannot succeed if a most critical sector as construction, is structurally unready for the future. And the future is here already.

From silence to structure

What this scan ultimately shows is that Nigeria’s building and construction sector is standing at a crossroads. One path continues with climate framed as an HSE issue, sustainability as a paragraph in an Annual Report, and governance as a loose collection of good intentions. The other path treats climate as a strategic pillar of business planning, integrated into governance, capital allocation, and operational practice.

The companies that choose the second path will not simply be complying with the Climate Change Act. They will be positioning themselves as credible partners in a future where infrastructure, finance, and climate policy are increasingly intertwined. The ones that remain invisible risk becoming marginal in markets that are slowly but surely being reshaped by decarbonisation.

Visibility is not the whole story, but it is where the story begins. For a sector that will quite literally build the foundations of Nigeria’s climate future, remaining invisible is no longer a neutral choice. It is a decision with consequences, for companies, for regulators and for the country’s climate ambition.

Washing and hushing

Echoes from Belem: When nature should not be exchanged for cash

Nigeria’sVice President,KashimShettima, ignited a debate on climate finance when hecalled for new financial mechanisms to harness the “economic value of nature” at COP30 in Belem, Brazil.While some have hailedhis statement as a bold leap in the quest for climate finance, Nigeria’s environmental rights community considers it troubling. To them, this posturingportends a future where nature is appraised like real estate, where forests become investment portfolios, and where the people closest to the land disappear into the margins.

A coalition of civil society groups, comprising CAPPA, HOMEF, ERA/FoEN, Social Action, and the Lekeh Development Foundation, was the first to raise the alarm in a statement released in Port Harcourt last week. The groups expressed fearsgrounded in the lived experiences of decades of mineral extraction that have turned vibrant ecosystems into dead zones and pushed rural communities into cycles of dispossession. They warn that such monetization of nature has historically led to displacement: smallholder farmers and indigenous communities are pushed off their lands, local food systems collapse, and traditional roles of custodianship are eroded. Their message was simple: “commodifying the environment risks commodifying the people who depend on it, and as a country still wrestling with the legacy of resource exploitation, Nigeria cannot afford to make that mistake again.”

Connecting the dots: A shared struggle for inclusion

Meanwhile, in Belem across the Amazon, indigenous protesters blocked the COP30 entrance, demanding protection for territories threatened by extractive megaprojects. Their frustration mirrored the same pattern: decisions about land being made by people who may never set foot on it. While their story unfolded on a different continent, it cast a revealing shadow over Nigeria, reminding everyone that exclusion is not an accident but rathera deliberate choice.

Environmental finance frameworks are often negotiated in conference rooms, far removed from the villages they aim to transform. Policies are drafted with good intentions but lacking the lived insights of riverine communities, forest custodians, and agrarian households who understand their environments not as abstractions but as memory, identity, and livelihood. When financial models speak louder than community voices, rural people are reduced to footnotes rather than partners. These two moments, echoing from COP30, are not separate stories: Nigeria’s civil society criticizing the alleged commodification of the climate, and indigenous people asserting their rights through protests at the Belem talks. They are deeply connected, bound by a shared concern: who gets to decide, and who pays the price.

Monetizing nature is not just an economic shift; it is a political one. It risks deepening the silence around communities already struggling to be heard. It risks reinforcing the idea that people who do not wield financial power do not deserve environmental power either.But the greatest risk is moresubtle:once nature is assigned market value, those without market influence lose their ground and can only count on resilience. Their ancestral relationships become irrelevant in a world obsessed with returns on investment. The grandmother who knows the medicinal secrets of a forest becomes less important than the investor whose portfolio depends on carbon credits extracted from that forest.

Nigeria must imagine a different path

This moment demands an approach that recognizes rural communities not as passive beneficiaries of climate finance but as co-authors of national climate action. Their knowledge must actively shape climate policy. Their voices must influence negotiations before agreements are signed, and not after. Their rights must be more than ceremonial acknowledgments in policy documents.Nigeria’s rural and indigenous communities (for instance, in the Niger Delta or forested regions) must be recognized not merely as beneficiaries of tokenistic finance, but as rights-bearing stewards. If nature-based finance becomes the dominant paradigm, there’s a risk that people lose more than they gain.

The future Nigeria deserves is one where climate strategy is not designed for rural people but with them. A future where environmental stewardship is not outsourced to global markets, but restored to the communities that have practiced it for generations. A future where nature is valuedbut never priced in ways that erase the humanity woven into every tree, river, and shoreline.

Nigeria stands at a crossroads. One road leads toward a shiny but fragile illusion that markets alone can save us. The other leads toward a grounded, people-centered future -slower perhaps- but more stable, more just, and more sustainable.If we are bold enough to choose the second road, then we must center the rural communities that have carried the weight of environmental loss for far too long. Their stewardship is not a financial asset. It is a national treasure. And the future we are trying to build cannot stand without it.

Spotlight

Niger Delta Host communities: To whom much is given….

Accountability is a double-edged sword. It can cut both ways. More often than not, issues of the Niger Delta are discussed from the perspective of supply-side accountability. It was therefore refreshing to hear a different tone – a calling out of communities and their leaders on the hot topic of accountability. 

Last week, the chairman of the House of Representatives Committee on Host Communities, Hon. DumnameneDekor, reportedly expressed reservations on how some communities have utilised or failed to utilise billions of naira deposited inthe Host Community Development Trust (HCDT)funds. He lashed out that a few years after the operationalisation of the funds, some communities have been unable to execute any project. This iseven though some N373 billionhas been made available for the funding of projects under the HCDT legislated by the Petroleum Industry Act (PIA).

Dekorcautioned that the parliament would not fold its arms and allow such situation to persist. He suggested that changesin the leadership of some of the trusts which have received funding but yet to execute projects may be a solution. This may sound like a plausible solution but isn’t the issue more complex than leadership? The structure of the trusts provides for some checks-and-balances to make for good governance, inclusive participation, community oversight and other leadership accountability mechanisms that need to be thoroughly examined. Seeking change of guard alone may not solve the systemic problem of corruption and community compromise that is now stalling remediation and development efforts in oil-bearing communities. But the call for community accountability is certainly a good start. Let the conversation be broadened.