Waste Wars: Lagos Residents, LAWMA Share Blame for City’s Filth

By: Kehinde Kenku

In 2016, fresh out of my NYSC year, I moved into a mini flat with my siblings in Akesan, Igando. Living in Lagos on your own is no joke — the responsibilities pile up quickly — but we made it work.

A few months in, I noticed something odd: LAWMA (Lagos Waste Management Authority) trucks rarely came to our area. When they did, maybe once or twice a month, they only stopped at selected places to collect refuse.

Curious, I asked a neighbor why. He explained that LAWMA only picked up waste from households that paid their monthly bill. Fair enough, I thought. But then I wondered why we weren’t paying.

I soon discovered that our building had been lumped together with two Face Me I Face Youhouses next door under a single LAWMA bill. The problem? Many of those residents refused to pay — even the small ₦200–₦500 fee per room.

Not willing to let my household be dragged into that mess, I went to the nearest LAWMA office. I requested that our building and a downstairs shop be separated from the others for billing. They agreed, and from then on, we paid every single month without fail.

When the Trucks Stopped Coming

A year or two later, LAWMA stopped visiting our community entirely. When they did come, they only branched at the king’s palace, collected waste there, and left.

The result was predictable — and ugly. People began dumping waste at the major bus stop, while others threw refuse directly into gutters. As a climate change advocate, it broke my heart. I hated the fact that I, too, had to resort to paying local “aboki” waste collectors to dispose of my trash — with no idea where it ended up.

 Who’s Really to Blame?

It’s true that many Nigerians do not take environmental responsibilities seriously. Some refuse to pay for waste collection, then complain about the consequences. But what about people like us who pay every month? LAWMA owed us at least the basic respect of consistent service.

Determined to find answers, I visited LAWMA’s office twice — both times, it was locked. I called customer care — the number didn’t go through. When I finally got someone, they gave me another number. That led to a staff member who seemed surprised LAWMA wasn’t coming to our area. He insisted they did, but I assured him — and anyone in my community could confirm — that they didn’t.

Weeks of back-and-forth followed. Then, in early August 2025, the same staff member called again and promised to connect me with the person responsible for our zone. A week later, that person finally visited my home.

The Big Miscommunication

My sister, our neighbor, and I explained everything to him — the years without service, the lack of outreach, and the environmental damage.

To my surprise, he said they had visited our community in the past to campaign for residents to register — even meeting with our community chairman. Apparently, our area was now under a new waste company entirely, not the old LAWMA operators we thought we still had. But here’s the shocker: none of us ever received that information.

It was clear — there’s a massive communication gap between LAWMA (and their contractors) and residents. And that gap is poisoning our city.

Shared Responsibility

From my experience, both LAWMA and Lagos residents share the blame for the city’s filth.

• LAWMA’s Failures: Poor outreach. Relying solely on community chairmen to pass along information doesn’t work. They need to do proper campaigns — distribute flyers, make public announcements, visit streets directly.
• Residents’ Failures: Many Lagosians only act when the government clamps down. For years, people dumped refuse on roads and bus stops without caring — until the government started arresting offenders. That’s not responsibility; that’s fear.

My Call to Action

I’m urging every Lagos resident:

• Pay your waste bills. It’s your duty.
• Stop illegal dumping. The road is not your dustbin.
• Engage. Ask questions, demand accountability, and keep records of your payments.

And to LAWMA and its contractors:

• Don’t disappear. If there’s a problem with a community, engage them directly.
• Communicate widely. Go beyond the community heads — speak to residents on the streets.
• Be transparent. If operations have changed hands, let people know immediately.

Nigeria is already battling climate change and an environmental crisis. The actions we take today — both as citizens and as institutions — will determine whether our cities become livable or uninhabitable in the years to come.

It starts with you. Yes — you reading this right now.