Nature, Culture, and Conservation: A Day at Lekki Conservation Center

The air was softer, cooler, heavy with the smell of damp earth and palm leaves. The sounds of traffic faded into the background, replaced by birds calling to one another and the low croak of a frog somewhere in the distance.

“Welcome to the forest,” our guide said with a smile, motioning us toward the wooden boardwalk that disappeared into the greenery.

The Boardwalk

The boardwalk stretched ahead like an invitation. Each plank creaked as we walked deeper into the forest. Tall palms leaned overhead, their fronds creating shifting patterns of light and shadow. I caught my reflection in a puddle and laughed at how wide-eyed I looked, already feeling like I had stepped into another world.

Then came the monkeys.

Two Mona monkeys appeared on the railing, watching us as if we were the entertainment. One clutched a piece of fruit, the other tilted its head, clearly curious about whether we might drop a snack. A woman in our group quickly pulled her bag closer to her chest. Everyone knows Lagos monkeys have a reputation for mischief.

“Don’t feed them,” the guide reminded us with a chuckle.

The Canopy Walk

The calm of the boardwalk was nothing compared to what came next.

The canopy walkway stretched above the forest like a challenge. Seven suspension bridges swayed in the air, connecting platforms high among the trees. I hesitated before taking the first step. The rope netting moved with every shift of weight, and the wooden planks gave a protesting creak.

“Don’t look down,” someone whispered behind me.

Of course I did.

Far below, the forest floor seemed impossibly distant, but the view made my nerves worthwhile. From up there, the forest opened like a giant green quilt stitched together by palm fronds and bamboo clusters. A butterfly drifted past, as if to remind me that the walkway was its domain, not mine.

Halfway across, my fear melted into exhilaration. My grip on the ropes loosened, and by the time I stepped onto the final platform, my laughter was louder than my heartbeat.

Nature Meets Culture

I had expected trees, birds, and wildlife, but I didn’t expect stories.

At one resting spot, our guide pointed to a towering iroko tree and explained how, in Yoruba tradition, trees like this are considered sacred, believed to connect the living to the spiritual world.

Nearby, a wooden carving carried markings in the style of Yoruba art. It felt less like decoration and more like a reminder that here in Lagos, culture and nature aren’t separate. They grow into each other.

The Elder of the Forest

Every visitor to Lekki Conservation Center hears about the giant tortoise, and sure enough, we found him slowly making his way across a grassy patch.

His shell was marked with deep lines, as if time itself had carved its story there. Our guide claimed he was more than a century old. A little girl whispered to her mother, “He’s older than Grandpa,” and the tortoise blinked slowly, unfazed by our attention.

Watching him, I couldn’t help but think of how fast Lagos moves and how out of place such slowness would feel anywhere else. Here though, it felt natural, even comforting.

Lunch in the Shade

We ended our walk at the picnic area, where wooden benches sat beneath wide canopies of trees. Peacocks strutted across the lawn with casual confidence, their tails dragging like royal robes. Someone in our group opened a container of suya, and within minutes, the smoky smell drew curious stares, not just from us but from a brave monkey that tested its luck one last time.

We laughed, shared food, and let the cool breeze wash over us. The chaos of the city felt far away.

Back to the Noise

Leaving the center felt like waking from a dream. The moment we stepped onto the road outside, the honking of horns and the calls of street vendors rushed back. Lagos was back to being itself, full of sound and motion.

But something inside me had shifted. I had crossed a walkway above the trees, listened to stories rooted in centuries of tradition, and stared into the wise eyes of a tortoise that had lived through generations.

That is more than just sightseeing. It is a reminder that even in a city that never slows down, there are places that invite you to breathe, listen, and see differently.

If you ever find yourself in Lagos, overwhelmed by its restless energy, spend a few hours at Lekki Conservation Center. Walk the boardwalk, face the canopy walkway, sit in the shade, and let the forest speak for itself.

Because sometimes the real story of a city is told not in its noise, but in its silences.