
This is the first in our 2026 series reflecting on the city’s favelas 10 years after the 2016 Rio de Janeiro Olympic Games.
On August 14, 2025, Rio de Janeiro’s City Council approved the creation of a new ‘Southwest Zone’, which encompasses 21 neighborhoods of Planning Area 4 (AP4) in what has traditionally been the city’s West Zone. The area includes elite neighborhoods built over the past half-century, such as Barra da Tijuca, Recreio dos Bandeirantes, Grumari, Vargem Grande and Vargem Pequena. These areas are known for segregationist real estate projects, in particular luxury condominiums, which grew especially quickly over the past two decades, propelled in the lead-up to the 2007 Pan-American Games and the 2016 Olympic Games.
Two months later, on October 18, 2025, City Council approved the Imagine Project, Complementary Law nº 284/2025, which authorizes the City to grant the former Olympic Park—now Olympic Legacy Park—to Rock World, the company behind Rock in Rio. According to the council, this plan includes “the creation of an amusement park, along with a leisure, sports, cultural and business complex, which is expected to become the largest in Latin America, spread over 1,180,000 m². The site will also serve as a permanent headquarters of Rock in Rio, one of the largest music festivals in the world.” The company will have up to 60 months to complete the infrastructure works and will then be able to operate the space for 30 years “through a Urban Consortium Operation, with the transfer of construction potential to other areas of Barra da Tijuca and Jacarepaguá. Rock World expects to generate over R$274 billion (US$~50 billion) and 143,000 jobs over the concession period… Before this, the company will have up to 12 months from the law’s publication to present a detailed masterplan of the entire implementation area, which must be approved by City Hall.”
Both laws reignite debates about urban planning, real estate speculation, the right to the city and the right to the favela in the region.
In addition, the city recently established its 166th neighborhood, named “Barra Olímpica,” or “Olympic Barra,” taking what had been a transition area including several favelas (such as Asa Branca, City of God, Rio das Pedras, Muzema, Tijuquinha and Canal do Anil) in Jacarepaguá, Camorim and Barra da Tijuca, and rebranding the area, bringing the status associated with both “Barra da Tijuca” and the Olympics.
Still resisting on the edge of Barra Olímpica, however, next to the Olympic Park these 10 years after the Rio Olympic Games, is the small community of Vila Autódromo. Vila Autódromo became a global symbol in the fight against violent forced evictions thanks to its decades-long and steadfast resistance, which, despite pushback from powerful stakeholders, was partially successful. When the dust (literally) settled, twenty families were able to remain in the area, all working class. That said, the recent developments in the region have rekindled concerns among residents about threats to their right to remain, whether through violent forced evictions or real estate speculation.

Sandra Maria Teixeira, 57, has lived in Vila Autódromo for 32 years. For her, Barra Olímpica was created for very obvious reasons.
“They create this neighborhood, a new one, that already brings with it a reference to [affluent] ‘Barra’ [da Tijuca]. It’s blatantly a project aimed at increasing the value of the area, which has already received investments and renovations that clearly serve the interests of real estate speculation… The project’s [economic and political interests] are very clear. You can see the fragmentation of the neighborhoods receiving investments [with this new zone]. It’s the continuation of their [speculative] project.” — Sandra Maria Teixeira
One fear residents are already experiencing is the rise in costs related to housing and the right to remain in the region. Teixeira emphasizes: “You have a valued area with greater public investment, which will justify increases in the municipal property tax and several other costs.”

For Luiz Claudio Silva, a 62-year-old physical education instructor, this rise in the cost of living is already underway: it is only a matter of time given the changes being implemented.
“Once it really sinks in, once people become aware that the zone has changed, that the neighborhood is now part of the Southwest Zone… For now, I do not think so, but in the future—perhaps very soon—it is a path toward higher taxes.” — Luiz Claudio Silva
With the new symbolic naming, residents fear that funding will be directed solely to the region’s wealthiest neighborhoods.
“Our struggle has always been against erasure. No benefits have reached us here. When those houses [built in Vila Autódromo as compensation before the 2016 Olympics] were handed over on July 29, 2016, it was agreed with the city that it had to rebuild everything it destroyed during the evictions… the sports court [for example], everything under the court injunction.” — Luiz Claudio Silva
“We were subjected to 58 court injunctions here. In this case, it was the residents’ association, the community garden, the playground… the sports court,” adds Silva, noting that the city appealed the rulings, but the courts ordered the reconstruction of public facilities for community use that had been demolished. However, even with court decisions, the City took years to begin the works, which were always unofficially monitored by residents.

Teixeira points out that one of the impacts felt in the region—also frequently chosen to host large events and festivals in the city—is on the availability of public transportation. “We are always having to deal with the impact of this. During Rock in Rio, we are left without public transportation. We have to walk as far as [the condominium] Rio 2, which is pretty far. They take away the few bus lines [that serve the area], preventing them from passing through. They assume that [since] this is a valued area, everyone has a car. All it takes is issuing an authorization and everything is taken care of,” she criticizes.
For Vila Autódromo, there are also psychological impacts: the new neighborhood bears the name of the event responsible for the successive forced evictions of 700 families—neighbors of those who stayed. Their friends were relocated to other parts of the city or were simply left homeless.
“Regarding our address… it used to be ‘Jacarepaguá’. And now, you have to say ‘Barra Olímpica.’” — Luiz Claudio Silva
Throughout its history, Vila Autódromo has been subjected to several notorious eviction tactics employed by City Hall: Trojan Horse, canceled services, environmental arguments, misinformation, divide and conquer, concealed threats and lost belongings.
“We are still classified as a special area of social interest. We know that, when it comes to forced evictions, they use a range of strategies. I’m not sure what the future holds for us.” — Sandra Maria Teixeira
When asked about local participation in decision-making processes, psychologist and Vila Autódromo resident Michael Soares do Nascimento, 38, said that residents were not consulted about the city’s new zoning.
“Here in Vila Autódromo, we only found out after everything was done. I only learned about it because I read a news article online: ‘Wait, did something change?’ We have no participation in politics, nor access to any information.” — Michael Soares do Nascimento

As part of Vila Autódromo’s history, residents fought against forced evictions carried out by Mayor Eduardo Paes during his first terms in office (2008-2016). His administration was responsible for removals of dozens of the city’s favelas due to mega-events, always through non-participatory processes that placed the interests of real estate above the population. This fear—that all of this could happen again—remains present among residents of favelas in the new Southwest Zone, as evidenced by recent attempted evictions of the Santa Luzia and Vila da Lagoa communities, both carried out by City Hall under Eduardo Paes, now in his fourth term (2024-2028).
For Vila Autódromo, the future remains uncertain, the psychologist says. What he is certain of, however, is that the government has no public policies aimed at guaranteeing the right to remain—which includes adequate public investment in sustainable upgrading—for the favelas of the new Southwest Zone, such as Vila Autódromo, City of God, Rio das Pedras, Muzema, Tijuquinha, among others.
“We have no idea. We’re in the dark. We don’t know what’s going to happen. We’re hoping and praying that things remain peaceful… But… there are no proposals [for policies to guarantee affordable housing in a possible scenario of real estate speculation].” — Michael Soares do Nascimento
For Sandra Teixeira, the Evictions Museum launched months prior to the 2016 Rio Olympic Games and maintained by the favela’s residents, contributes significantly to a collective memory that sustains resident struggles against removal policies of any kind. However, she says she has little optimism for the favelas in the region, given the historical actions of the State and the real estate market.
“Here in Vila Autódromo, what we’ve been doing since 2016—when around 700 families were forced to leave—has been working through the Evictions Museum, strengthening the area and local identity. We’re trying to protect our neighborhood [from speculation]. As for public authorities, it was the government itself that impacted and tore our community apart. What can we expect from them? There are certainly no good expectations—it’s not a good relationship.” — Sandra Maria Teixeira
About the author: Igor Soares was born and raised in Morro do Borel and has a journalism degree from the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro (UFRJ). He currently contributes to #Colabora and works as a freelancer. He has experience covering topics related to cities, human rights, and public security, having previously worked at Estadão, Portal iG, and produced reports for Folha de São Paulo.
