For a city that markets itself as the mega city of Nigeria and the gateway to West Africa, parts of Lagos tell a different story: streets littered with dirts, gutters choked with refuse, and drains turned into open sewers.
Walk along Mushin Market Road, cross the Iyana Isolo Expressway, or stand at Five-Star Junction after a downpour, and you will see the evidence that cleanliness has become a casualty of neglect and, worse, of collective indifference.
Beyond the main roads and markets, dirt is now being stored right in front of people’s houses. In many streets, bags of refuse are displaced outside, lining the road and filling the air with foul odours. This daily reality shows how a failure of basic services turns whole neighbourhoods into dumping grounds, with serious consequences for health, dignity and safety.
he other day, I watched that indifference play out. I was at an event centre in the rain when a woman tossed a biscuit-nylon out of a bus window. The wrapper snagged on a gutter, then drifted into a drain. It was a small, thoughtless act but it is one of many small acts that add up to erosion, blocked waterways and flooding. That one wrapper can join countless others, clog a drain, and turn an ordinary rain into a local disaster. This is not only an aesthetic complaint. Poor waste management is a public-health hazard. Blocked drains mean stagnant water, which breeds mosquitoes and increases malaria risk. Rotting refuse in front of houses releases odours and attracts flies and rodents, helping disease to spread. Contaminated runoff from these waste piles flows into streets and compounds, raising the risk of diarrhoea, typhoid and cholera, especially in densely populated neighbourhoods. The burden lands hardest on children and low-income families who already face limited access to healthcare. Every flood, every outbreak, is a reminder that refuse is not merely unsightliness; it is a direct threat to lives and livelihoods.
The economic cost is also steep. Markets and small businesses lose goods to flood damage, commuters spend hours stuck in gridlock made worse by indiscriminate dumping that blocks side streets and drainage. Municipal resources are drained by emergency clean-ups and repairs that could have been avoided if collection and disposal were properly planned and enforced. Informal recycling networks exist and provide livelihoods, but without formal support they cannot scale to meet the city’s needs or significantly reduce the volume of plastic and other waste choking Lagos. The city’s image crucial for investment and tourism suffers when visitors see refuse piled in front of homes and overflowing onto the roads.
Why, then, is the conversation of a dirty muted? State agencies set policy, local governments handle neighbourhood services, private contractors execute collection, and residents generate and, sometimes, dump waste. When roles overlap or are unclear, accountability evaporates, and no one feels truly responsible for the heaps of refuse that reappear after every sanitation drive. Politicians deflect blame, contractors point to local governments, and residents point to contractors and daily business continues as usual.Equally dangerous is a civic culture that normalises dirty streets and dirty environment. Without visible consequences or reliable services, many prioritise convenience over proper disposal, especially in crowded markets and bus stops where bins are scarce. Urban design compounds the problem: inadequate public bins, poor drainage design, and construction sites left unsecured all funnel waste into the same channels we rely on to carry away stormwater. The result is predictable: erosion of the soil, blocked drains, and floods that sweep waste back into homes. external funding and partnerships can support larger infrastructure projects. When money follows results, the incentive is to keep streets and frontages clean, not to wait until crisis forces action.
These steps require courage and consistency. Leaders must be prepared to cut inefficient contracts, speak honestly about failures, and prioritise everyday infrastructure over flashy projects. Residents must reclaim their role as stewards of their environment, insisting that refuse is no longer stored at their premises and refusing to add to the problem with careless dumping.Lagos’s future depends on whether it continues to treat dirt as normal or chooses to see it as a sign of deeper neglect. A single dirt tossed into a gutter, a single bag of refuse left outside a house, is not just litter; it is the first act in a chain that leads to blocked drains and flooded homes. From Mushin Market Road to Iyana Isolo Expressway and Five-Star Junction, the evidence is clear: dirt persists where denial lives. Change will not be instant, but with clear targets, better logistics, empowered recyclers, consistent enforcement and genuine community buy‑in, Lagos can be both vibrant and clean.
If we keep shrugging at refuse stored in front of our houses and waste tossed into our drains, we will pay later with floods, disease and lost opportunity. If we act now government, operators and residents together the city will regain not only its streets but its dignity and safety, and that restoration is worth every effort.
Boluwatife, a web designer, wrote from Lagos.
