By Adelodun Adetoyese
I recently read an incredibly moving and thought-provoking message online—one that resonated with me so deeply that I felt compelled to write about and disseminate it to a wider audience. The original message was full of truth, and I think it should be raised to a level that permits deeper contemplation and comprehension. This is my effort to inform, enlighten, and motivate genuine change and not to take credit.
I have always had a strong and unwavering belief in the indoctrination process. Not the sort that deprives people of critical thinking, but the kind that imparts values that last. When properly executed, indoctrination changes rather than just influences. Our daily decisions are shaped by it, as it gets ingrained in our DNA.
One such development happened during Governor Babatunde Fashola’s Keep Lagos Clean campaign in 2008. That movement evolved into a philosophy, not just a slogan. It taught me to respect my surroundings, and since then, littering has become something I physically cannot do. I keep receipts, wrappers, and empty sachets until I find an appropriate bin. On rare occasions, I may place biodegradable debris, such as fruit peels, in gutters, but never plastic or anything non-biodegradable.
And that leads to the heart of this reflection: a rising dissatisfaction and unhappiness that I carry with me every day. Why do so many Nigerians display such flagrant disdain for the environment? Why is littering so widespread that we no longer notice it?
Every day, I see people—well-dressed, educated, sometimes affluent—nonchalantly tossing garbage out of their car windows. I see commuters in Danfo and BRTs throw out nylon bags and plastic bottles like they’re flicking away a fly. There’s no shame, no second thought, just reckless abandonment. The streets bear the burden of this normalized carelessness.
The most common excuse I hear is: “The government has not provided enough bins.” While this is a legitimate claim to some extent, it does not excuse lawlessness. Do we need to be spoon-fed morality? Is it really that hard to hang onto a piece of trash for a few more minutes? I’ve done it several times. It’s a little nuisance, not an insurmountable chore. It needs willpower. It takes pride in one’s surroundings.
Even those who try to do the right thing often fall short. Ever noticed how garbage tends to surround public bins more than fill them? People dump trash around the bin instead of inside it, as if the pavement is a valid alternative. And when the bin is full? They pile more on top, creating a fragile tower of waste that topples with the wind or rain—spreading the mess even further.
The fact is that relatively few people believe that “This bin is full.” “Let me take this home and dispose of it appropriately,” or “Let me find another one.” Rather, we accept the bare minimum and give ourselves props for making the attempt. “I tried, at least.”
This is what I call the bare minimum mindset. It’s a poisonous mentality that has permeated practically every aspect of Nigerian life. We expect the government to cure everything while we keep destroying our own environment. We are quick to improve our private areas, including our homes, offices, and vehicles. However, when we enter common public areas, we lose our sense of duty.
“It’s not my business; it’s not my property; what’s the government doing? The government should clean it and nd many more excuses.
Therefore, our environment is damaged, our streets are filthy, and our gutters are clogged—not because we are incapable of changing, but rather because we lack the will to do so. This goes beyond simply disposing of waste. It has to do with our identity. It has to do with our values.
The way a society treats its surroundings reveals its essence. And, if we’re being honest, Nigeria’s spirit is wailing beneath the weight of apathy and indifference. Compare our streets to those of countries where residents take personal responsibility for public cleanliness. The contrast hurts. It’s not just about infrastructure; it’s about culture. This is about the heart.
Yes, living in Nigeria is already difficult. But must we add filth to the misery? Must we pollute the earth we walk on? Consider the basic joys of clean streets, fresh air, and unclogged gutters. Imagine how much better this country could be if we all worked a bit harder.
If you’re reading this and are guilty of negligent littering, I’m not here to pass judgment. But to make a plea. Begin by keeping your trash until you find a bin. If the bin is full, do not dump it on top of it; instead, secure it, carry it home, or find another bin. If you observe someone littering, please speak out. Carry a spare bag. Set an example for others.
When you make these small actions a habit, they become automatic. They cause a rippling effect. They exert an effect on others. They instigate change.
Please, Edakun, Ejoo… Let’s stop pointing fingers and start taking responsibility. Let us stop treating Nigeria as if it were a hotel where we were only staying for a short time and instead consider it as our permanent residence. Because that’s exactly how it is.
