Junk'd!
I was already in MY farm, sitting outside MY house sipping some porridge that had been handed to me by MY wife while watching MY kids run around the yard… “are you listening?... do we have an understanding?” dad was pensive. “umm aah yes.” Quickly, I’m back to earth. “I promise, I will.”
I spend most of my spare time hanging around the shopping centre, and this has incensed him. I could pick up some habits there, habits that would not be conducive to my continued living in his house. He called me in one evening for a chat bent on hammering some responsibility into me. “There is that disused piece of land behind the house; I want you to spend your free time there, tilling it.” He went on. “Plant what you want and if you do a good job, I may give you a whole acre at the far end of the farm.”
I was up at first light the next day surveying the site, as if, for the first time. Only it wasn’t. It was possibly the busiest and most visited on our farm. It was our garbage dump. Years of use had gradually filled a large hole and now, a complete collection is who’s who in the non biodegradable world lay strewn all over the yard. Polythene bags, batteries, bottles and a good old Sandak shoe sticking out of the soil like a tailfin. With future thoughts nudging me on, I plunged into the task and in five minutes, I had the first of numerous breaks to clean up a bloody mess left in my foot by a rusty nail that pierced through my gum boot. It suddenly dawned on me how much junk we churn.
A week further on and I was still hard at task. I had vision. My shopping centre hangout club mounted a rescue mission by sending a decoy but she bore no resemblance to MY dream porridge maker. I made some neat looking seed beds, and then invited my mum for a grand tour, taking the opportunity to borrow 100 shillings to buy some seeds. I after much thought, and in consultation with the juju cum weather man, I planted some carrots, potatoes and cabbage and to add a bit of colour to my dad’s eyes, I ringed the whole yard with jasmine flowers.
A month went by; the crops had sprouted in neat rows. I spent most days inspecting my labour and gradually, conducting tours to impressed villagers. This was not to last. Midway through the second month, the crops turned pale and dried up. None of the early morning watering would spring life back into them. The Agricultural Officer inspected the crops and concluded that years of garbage had altered the chemical composition of the soil and the roots chocked up on some still deeply embedded plastics. My dream withered and dried up.
All this comes back to mind as I watched a remarkable documentary on Eco-Journal (KTN) last week. It showed the recycling process in Germany where nothing goes to waste. Quite to the contrary, our recycling is largely an individual effort. The government plays no active role. If we go by statistics, one person generates a ton of garbage a year… though I can gladly point out some neighbours who beat that in a month... if Nairobi has three million souls, one ton each and for arguments sake, say five years? You can only begin to appreciate the mountain of trash. Let’s do something about it.
I spend most of my spare time hanging around the shopping centre, and this has incensed him. I could pick up some habits there, habits that would not be conducive to my continued living in his house. He called me in one evening for a chat bent on hammering some responsibility into me. “There is that disused piece of land behind the house; I want you to spend your free time there, tilling it.” He went on. “Plant what you want and if you do a good job, I may give you a whole acre at the far end of the farm.”
I was up at first light the next day surveying the site, as if, for the first time. Only it wasn’t. It was possibly the busiest and most visited on our farm. It was our garbage dump. Years of use had gradually filled a large hole and now, a complete collection is who’s who in the non biodegradable world lay strewn all over the yard. Polythene bags, batteries, bottles and a good old Sandak shoe sticking out of the soil like a tailfin. With future thoughts nudging me on, I plunged into the task and in five minutes, I had the first of numerous breaks to clean up a bloody mess left in my foot by a rusty nail that pierced through my gum boot. It suddenly dawned on me how much junk we churn.
A week further on and I was still hard at task. I had vision. My shopping centre hangout club mounted a rescue mission by sending a decoy but she bore no resemblance to MY dream porridge maker. I made some neat looking seed beds, and then invited my mum for a grand tour, taking the opportunity to borrow 100 shillings to buy some seeds. I after much thought, and in consultation with the juju cum weather man, I planted some carrots, potatoes and cabbage and to add a bit of colour to my dad’s eyes, I ringed the whole yard with jasmine flowers.
A month went by; the crops had sprouted in neat rows. I spent most days inspecting my labour and gradually, conducting tours to impressed villagers. This was not to last. Midway through the second month, the crops turned pale and dried up. None of the early morning watering would spring life back into them. The Agricultural Officer inspected the crops and concluded that years of garbage had altered the chemical composition of the soil and the roots chocked up on some still deeply embedded plastics. My dream withered and dried up.
All this comes back to mind as I watched a remarkable documentary on Eco-Journal (KTN) last week. It showed the recycling process in Germany where nothing goes to waste. Quite to the contrary, our recycling is largely an individual effort. The government plays no active role. If we go by statistics, one person generates a ton of garbage a year… though I can gladly point out some neighbours who beat that in a month... if Nairobi has three million souls, one ton each and for arguments sake, say five years? You can only begin to appreciate the mountain of trash. Let’s do something about it.
4 comments:
"...a complete collection is who’s who in the non biodegradable world.."
That line made me laugh!
On a serious note you post addresses some very real and important issues.
Kenya's attitude to waste disposal has always fascinated me...on the one hand I feel we understood early on, way before the West, the notion of recycling and we are good at it. Especially the recycling of beer and soda bottles.
Yet on the other hand, when driving through Nairobi you can't help but notice the amount of litter that is spread acroos the pavement.
I think part of your post touches on one reason why this is so; recycling is very much an individual choice in Kenya. We are lucky that we have kiosk owners who insist on 'a bottle for a bottle'.
But individual effort can only go so far. There does need to be some input from the GOK and soon. Even if they start off by placing more litter bins in towns and cities.
Evrytime I am in Nairobi, I am mortified by the mountains of junk in the streets and the so-called dumps. What a waste of good fertilizer and recylables.
On the other hand, most Kenyans do not throw things that they can use away, like plastic bags, tins cans, glass jars etc. What we need is a marraige of the two.
Meanwhile, how did the dream end?
thanks mama's and uaridi... i moved to the big city and quit farming. i think i wasn't cut out for it.
I hear you on the issue of recycling. Something needs to be in place to encourage it. Here in Massachusetts, you get 5cts for any bottle (glass or plastic) or can returned to a redemption center. Only catch it, not all brands are taken. For those that are not, you have the option of leaving in a recycling bin for trash day. In some other states, there is no 5cts refund, so when I get visitors from those places and they see me holding onto cans, they wonder what is wrong with me.
In my line of work, we now have to identify what each component in the products we make consists of. This enables the end user have a better idea on how to dispose it. The Europeans (and Germans as you point out) are more advanced in this than the US. My understanding is something like a car will be stripped away piece by piece, and each component will be placed in the appropriate section for recycling. There is no wholesale dumping. Thus the regulations to categorize components.
Good post!
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