Inside Benue’s Billion-Naira Betrayal: How Lebanese Contractor Exploits Nigerian Workers On State-Funded Projects

By STELLA JOHNSON OGBOVOVEH

Bauhaus Global’s rise in Benue symbolises a deeper national crisis — one where foreign contractors profit from public contracts while Nigerian workers pay the price in blood and silence.

IN Benue State, where billion-naira contracts are meant to transform infrastructure and livelihoods, a Lebanese-owned construction firm, Bauhaus Global Investment Limited, is instead accused of exploiting the very Nigerians whose labour fuels its projects.

What began as an ordinary workday for 23-year-old Isaac Kanshio on 18 February 2025 ended in a hospital ward — and a brutal lesson in how foreign contractors operating in Nigeria’s public works sector routinely disregard labour laws, safety standards, and human dignity.

From Public Contracts to Private Suffering

Bauhaus Global, with headquarters in Beirut, has become a dominant player in Benue’s construction sector. The company currently handles some of the state’s most high-profile projects — including the ₦6 billion Makurdi High-Level Underpass, the ₦68.3 billion Wurukum–Airforce Base Road dualisation, and the ₦73.9 billion Mbawuar–Bako–Negher road upgrade.

Yet, while public officials praise Bauhaus for “delivery and quality,” its Nigerian workers tell a grimly different story — one of poverty wages, unsafe worksites, and systemic abuse.

“They Paid Me ₦15,000 After Nearly Dying”

Kanshio, a young security guard turned carpenter, was earning ₦62,000 monthly — well below Nigeria’s ₦70,000 minimum wage. On the day of the accident, he and a colleague were ordered to ride in the back of a Hilux van loaded with iron rods and heavy tools. The vehicle somersaulted on the Makurdi–Yaikyo road, leaving Kanshio with a dislocated leg and head injuries.

The company paid his hospital bills but refused to visit him or cover his recovery costs. Weeks later, Bauhaus struck his name off its payroll. When he protested, an accountant told him, “Company policy is to pay for only five months after an accident.”

Kanshio’s co-worker, Terseer Zeeku, wasn’t as lucky. His right hand was paralysed in the same crash. Bauhaus terminated his employment in June, without severance, compensation, or apology.

“They told me he was just a casual worker,” said Zeeku’s uncle, who tried to plead for reinstatement. “The manager shouted at me and walked away.”

Billions in Contracts, Pennies in Pay

While Bauhaus receives public funds worth tens of billions, investigations reveal that many local workers earn between ₦30,000 and ₦60,000 monthly, often without written contracts or health insurance.

“They treat Nigerians like slaves,” said Emmanuel Verem, a driver formerly employed by the company. “Once you’re not Lebanese, you are disposable.”

Verem claimed the company routinely deducts random “surcharges,” pays incomplete salaries, and punishes those who question management. “I was once fined ₦50,000 for a truck that ran out of diesel,” he said. “When I refused, I was fired that same day.”

No Safety Gear, No Compensation

In August 2025, 19-year-old Godwin Igoche, an accounting student, was injured when a heavy concrete slab fell on his leg at a Bauhaus site. The company sent him home with pain cream instead of to a hospital — and withheld his wages.

“I thought they were taking me to the hospital,” he said. “They gave me medicine and told me to go home. My mother had to buy drugs. I can’t even return to school.”

At multiple sites visited in Makurdi and Vandeikya, workers said they were denied safety gear — no helmets, no gloves, no boots. “If you complain, they sack you,” said one worker. “We work even on holidays. We are like slaves to these people.”

Breaking Labour Laws in Broad Daylight

Under Nigeria’s Labour Act (Sections 7, 12, and 18), every employee — permanent or casual — must receive a written contract within three months, be insured against workplace injury, and be entitled to paid leave and fair wages.

But Bauhaus allegedly flouts all of these. Workers interviewed said they had no written contracts, no payslips, and no unions. In 2024, when some tried to form one, the company asked for their names — then fired them all.

“Those who begged were rehired, but everyone got the message,” said a female former worker. “Now, no one talks about a union.”

Accountability Vacuum: Officials Look Away

Despite multiple attempts, Bauhaus management refused to comment. When confronted with a Freedom of Information (FOI) request, the company’s Lebanese project manager, Charbel Alammar, shouted, “Nothing in this is true. You can write whatever you want.” The company ignored both the request and a formal reminder.

The Benue State Government — which awarded the contracts — also remained silent. The Governor’s spokesperson, Tersoo Kula, did not respond to repeated calls or messages.

The Benue State House of Assembly’s spokesperson, Elias Audu, said the legislature was unaware of the abuses but promised to alert the Committee on Works and Housing for investigation.

Meanwhile, the Nigeria Labour Congress (NLC) in Benue pledged to “look into the allegations,” though admitted enforcement was weak because “casual labour exploitation is not yet criminalised.”

Law in Theory, Brutality in Practice

Labour lawyer Jamiu Akolade told reporters that Nigerian law recognises even temporary workers as employees entitled to protection. He cited legal precedents affirming that “contract and casual staff have the right to compensation and unionisation.”

But enforcement remains elusive. “What we see at Bauhaus reflects the gap between law and reality,” Akolade said. “Without strong penalties or political will, exploitation will continue — even on publicly funded projects.”

A State’s Complicity in Silence

Bauhaus Global’s operations in Benue expose a disturbing contradiction: a foreign firm entrusted with multi-billion-naira contracts by the state, yet accused of treating its Nigerian workforce with contempt.

As public money builds roads and bridges, it also builds private fortunes — on the backs of underpaid, uninsured, and silenced workers.

For Isaac Kanshio and many like him, the cost of development has been paid not in taxes or budgets, but in broken bones, unpaid wages, and stolen dignity.