The story of the Transit Centre at Igando, Lagos State, begins a few years before it became a temporary reception facility for Nigerians returning from difficult migration journeys abroad.
Standing within the facility, Mr Stanley Ukeugu, the International Organization for Migration (IOM) Transit Centre Manager, recalled that the centre was not originally designed for migrants. Rather, it first served as an emergency response shelter for disaster victims.
“Initially, the Transit Centre was used for emergencies, like victims of flood and any disaster,” he explained. “They usually bring them here to accommodate temporarily. I think they’ve used it once or twice before IOM came.”
For years, the facility functioned as a place of temporary shelter during emergencies, accommodating vulnerable persons displaced by disasters. But when increasing numbers of returned migrants began arriving in Nigeria, authorities confronted a different challenge.
At first, returnees were lodged in hotels.
“When the issue of migrants came up initially, we kept them in a hotel,” Ukeugu said.
However, the arrangement soon proved inadequate.
The needs of returned migrants, many of whom returned traumatised, ill, stranded or requiring immediate social and medical support after failed migration journeys, demanded more than temporary accommodation.
“We looked at this issue related to migrants; they are not solely to be handled by the IOM,” he explained. “It has to be a collective between the government and IOM so that there will be enough time to take care of their needs, including medical needs, psycho-social needs, and all that.”
Hotels, he noted, created distance between caregivers and migrants.
“At the hotel, you can’t really be closer to them to be able to identify their needs,” he said. “But at the Transit camp, we are closer to them. We don’t just move out anyhow, so, we know where they are and we can monitor their movements, but not restrict them from doing their movements.”
That need for closer care, monitoring and support laid the foundation for a partnership that now sustains the facility.
According to Ukeugu, the centre operates through collaboration between the International Organization for Migration (IOM), the Lagos State Emergency Management Agency (LASEMA), and the National Commission for Refugees, Migrants and Internally Displaced Persons (NCFRMI).
“So that’s the reason we were able to partner with LASEMA, National Commission for Refugees and IOM,” he said. “The three organisations run this place.”
While IOM provides technical support with funding from the European Union, the facility itself operates as a coordinated intervention involving government agencies and humanitarian partners.
To IOM, migration itself is not discouraged, but should be safe, informed and voluntary.
Officials maintain that migration is a matter of personal choice, and that a migrant returning to Nigeria today does not necessarily mean he or she cannot travel again.
Rather than preventing migration, the organisation says it promotes safe migration through access to accurate information, counselling and awareness to help people make informed decisions.
Yet, despite such efforts, institutionalised push and pull factors, including poverty, unemployment, labour demands and insecurity, particularly in underdeveloped countries continue to heighten vulnerability to irregular migration.
Today, the Transit Centre at Igando serves as a temporary reception point for returned migrants, accommodating them for a maximum of four days.
For every returnee, the reintegration process begins in the conference hall.
“When they come in, this is where they receive them first,” Ukeugu explained, pointing to the hall. “They come in, sit down and they are addressed and told the rules and regulations of the place and what they are expected to get, what they will be doing while they stay there. They are given all the information that they require.”
The centre, with a capacity for about 400 people, is designed not only as a reception facility but also as a temporary recovery space.
Within the premises are recreational facilities intended to ease tension and help migrants settle into the environment.
“The camp has a sports arena where they can relax,” Ukeugu said. “There is also a tennis court, a soccer field and other games.”
Beyond recreation, the centre houses a clinic where immediate health concerns are addressed.
“The clinic is just where we take care of the returnees; it is like the hospital,” he said. “We take care of little medicals; just to stabilise patients. Those that need referrals, IOM partners with other communities and hospitals.”
During a visit by journalists, only seven migrants were receiving care at the facility.
Inside the centre are separate hostels for male and female returnees, each with a capacity of about 200 persons. Every room contains four bunk beds capable of accommodating eight migrants.
“The female hostel has capacity for 200 persons, while the male hostel also has the same capacity,” Ukeugu explained. “Each room has four bunk beds that can accommodate eight migrants, and the rooms are quite large.”
Behind the female hostel lies a child-friendly space designed for children accompanying their mothers. The area contains toys, childminders, baby food and support systems to keep children engaged while parents participate in programmes or counselling sessions.
The Child Protection Network (CPN) supports the centre through trained caregivers.
“The Child Protection Network comes and supports childminders that take care of the children whenever their parents are busy at home,” Ukeugu said. “Whenever they’re having activities with their parents, childminders take care of the children. There are toys there for them and baby food also.”
To support migrants during their stay, the facility also provides toiletries, detergents, clothing and undergarments. Female returnees receive sanitary items, while those returning from detention facilities are supplied with extra clothing because many arrive with only one or two outfits.
“We have undies,” Ukeugu said. “For females, we give them undies, while for males, we give boxers with extra clothes. We also have baby foods, baby milk, formulas, all the basic things they need to take care of both their children and also for the adults as well.”
Security at the hostels is maintained round-the-clock through stationed personnel and CCTV surveillance.
Despite the structured environment, Ukeugu stressed that the facility is not a detention centre.
Returnees, he said, remain free to leave whenever they choose.
“There have been instances where migrants will come and say, okay, I can’t, I don’t want to stay till the three days or four days, I want to leave,” he said.
In such situations, officials explain the benefits the migrant may forfeit by leaving early.
“For instance, they came in yesterday (June 2) and we have this little token we give to them for transport back home,” he said. “We say, okay, if you leave today, you may miss that transport.”
Some still insist on leaving.
“They say, okay, I don’t mind,” he said. “We have this little waiver form that we give to them to fill. They just sign it that they on their own decide to leave.”
The duration of stay, he reiterated, is usually three days and a maximum of four.
Even meals are carefully considered.
Food served to migrants reflects the staple diets of their regions of origin, while special dietary arrangements are made for those with medical conditions.
“For instance, there are people who are diabetic,” Ukeugu said, noting that meals are tailored to suit their health needs.
Beyond shelter and food, healthcare remains one of the most critical services at the centre.
According to Dr Ikoiwak Utibe, who works alongside nurse Agbo Jogreen, returnee migrants generally fall into two broad categories — those arriving directly from cities abroad and those returning from detention facilities.
She explained that medical complaints vary, though body pains, headaches, respiratory infections and skin conditions remain common.
“Some complaints are mainly associated with flying, changing time zones, jet lag, and other manifest body pains,” Dr Utibe said.
However, she noted that migrants repatriated from detention camps often arrive in poorer health conditions than those returning directly from cities.
Many, she explained, spent prolonged periods in detention or prison facilities abroad.
“The most common story is that the water over there is really salty,” she said, explaining that many returnees complain of skin infections caused by poor water quality in transit countries.
Yet, beyond physical ailments, psychological trauma often runs deeper.
“Most of their stories are really, really scary,” Dr Utibe said. “As an ordinary person, you cannot imagine putting yourself in their situation to understand what they have been through.”
She recounted stories of migrants abandoned in deserts, detained at border points, imprisoned for months, or stranded after failed promises of opportunities abroad.
“Some are carried through the desert in trucks, abandoned along the way, with nobody stopping to help,” she said. “Others are arrested at points of entry and thrown into prison.”
For Dr Utibe, the greatest challenge remains mental recovery.
“I think the psychological effect is number one,” she said. “Before we think of the physical condition, we must recognise that while physical illnesses can be treated and people recover, the mental effect remains for a long time.”
Counselling therefore forms a major pillar of support at the centre.
“I tell them this is not the end of the road,” she said. “You are back in Nigeria, you are free, no longer captive. So, leave the mentality of being caged and begin to look forward to reintegrating into society.”
Under IOM’s Assisted Voluntary Return and Reintegration (AVRR) programme, eligible returnees can also receive reintegration assistance aimed at helping them rebuild their lives. Such support includes vocational and skills training, small business support, psycho-social care and economic reintegration assistance.
According to programme statistics, over 52,200 returnees have so far received reintegration support, while more than 30,000 have benefited from psycho-social, social and economic reintegration-related assistance. Through awareness campaigns, approximately 9.6 million people have also been reached with information on safe migration.
The stories of Kenery and Sobido (not real names) illustrate some of the experiences described by health workers at the centre.
Kenery, a 27-year-old mother of one who recently returned to Nigeria after six years in Libya, said she left Nigeria in 2020 alongside her sister, whose husband facilitated what they believed was a journey to Cairo, Egypt, but which later turned out to be Libya.
According to her, their dreams of working as a nurse and hairdresser respectively were dashed upon arrival when the promised jobs failed to materialise. Instead, they were engaged as Shagalla — the Libyan term for housemaids.
“We never knew we were going to Libya where they will use us as slaves. When we knew, my sister told her husband, who directed us to return home. They said no, that we must pay. My sister’s husband paid twice,” she said.
Freedom, however, did not come easily.
It was only after sustained pressure, including the arrest of the husband of their madam (sponsor), that Kenery’s sister secured her release and reunited with her family in Nigeria, leaving Kenery behind in Libya.
Kenery’s experience mirrors that of another returnee, Sobido, whose seven-year ordeal paints an equally troubling picture of life for undocumented migrants.
Sobido said he was only 20 years old when he travelled to Libya in 2020. By his calculations, he is now 27.
Reflecting on his experience, he warned young Nigerians against embarking on similar journeys.
“Those thinking of going to Libya should change their mind, no matter the amount they promised to pay you. Be satisfied with what you have. Me, I want to start afresh as a barber, even if it is one thousand naira I can get,” he said.
Today, Sobido said he intends to rebuild his life as a barber.
To him, survival in Libya proved difficult.
“I have seen people with documents arrested in the streets and taken to deportation camps,” he said.
Like Kenery, Sobido said a family member facilitated his journey.
“My sister took me there. I spent seven years there. I was a barber here before I left Nigeria, but barbing does not pay in Libya. So, I started learning Malaga (masonry), bricklaying in common parlance over there. Sometimes, when you complete your work, Arabu (employer) will not pay you and you cannot do anything,” he recounted.
He further alleged religious discrimination against Christians.
“If you are a Christian, you are forced to be a Muslim. If you are a Christian, you will attract hatred to yourself,” he claimed.
Disillusioned by life in Libya, Sobido said he made three unsuccessful attempts to cross the Mediterranean Sea into Europe.
On one occasion, he said he raised nearly one million naira from friends and associates in Nigeria to fund his journey through the Mediterranean route, only for the effort to fail.
He said he was detained in deportation camps on different occasions and at one point confined in an underground cell for eight months.
“We ate once daily in the underground,” he said.
After regaining freedom, Sobido relocated to Benghazi near the Egyptian border, where he attempted to rebuild his life.
“While there, my landlord accused me of seeing his wife when I was not permitted to, but he reported me at the police station that I stole about five goats, and the penalty for stealing one goat is four years imprisonment,” he recounted.
He was subsequently transferred to Kofia prison, which he described as the largest prison facility in Libya.
However, with the intervention of his working Naba (manager), whom he described as a landlord figure who prepared Tunanzu (documents), Sobido said he was eventually released and transferred to a deportation camp.
Yet, according to him, conditions there proved even harsher.
“I was taken to a deportation camp with worse conditions, including poor feeding. There, I met people who had spent one year. Some people die out of frustration; some run mad,” he said.
Kenery and Sobido were among the 182 Nigerian migrants from Libya whose return was facilitated by the International Organization for Migration under its Assisted Voluntary Return and Reintegration programme on Tuesday, June 2, 2026.
The returnees were 108 adult males and 45 adult females, bringing the total number of adults to 153.
Also among them were 10 male children and seven female children, totalling 17 children, as well as eight female infants and four male infants, making 12 infants.
In all, there were 123 females and 59 males, including two unaccompanied children. As at the time of this report, officials said efforts were still ongoing to ascertain why the two children were unaccompanied by parents or guardians.
The migrants arrived at the cargo wing of the Murtala Muhammed Airport, Lagos, at about 8 p.m. aboard a chartered flight marked Buraq 5A-BAE.
They were received by IOM officials led by the Head of IOM Sub-Office for the South Region, Alik Ibrahim, alongside personnel of the National Emergency Management Agency (NEMA) and Lagos State Emergency Management Agency (LASEMA), who immediately conveyed them for immigration profiling before taking them to the Transit Centre pending family tracing and reunification.
Ibrahim said the return was facilitated through collaboration between the Federal Government and the European Union through IOM.
According to him, the 182 returnees brought to 65,700 the number of migrants assisted under the AVRR programme since its inception in 2017.
Speaking with journalists at the airport, Ibrahim said the migrants received reception support, screening and counselling upon arrival, while eligible returnees would also receive reintegration assistance to help them rebuild their lives.
He described the return process as “a pathway to recovery.”
For many returnees, the Transit Centre at Igando remains a temporary stop lasting only a few days before reunification with family members and reintegration into society.
But for those arriving after years of uncertainty, exploitation, detention and failed hopes abroad, the few days spent at the centre often represent the first structured opportunity to begin again.
With sustained support and stronger partnerships, officials believe the Transit Centre can become more than a temporary shelter; a genuine opportunity for recovery, dignity and a pathway towards rebuilding lives.
The plight of Libya returnees has increasingly emerged as a defining feature of the broader irregular migration crisis, reflecting a widespread and deeply entrenched pattern among migrants from developing nations.
Driven by economic deprivation, limited opportunities, and the enduring promises of better prospects abroad, many embark on dangerous journeys that often lead to exploitation, abuse, detention, and eventual return under very harrowing circumstances.