By Edward Githae | Ethical Business
The call to curb waste is no longer a whisper; it is a siren, growing louder each year as the planet strains under humanity’s relentless consumption. Across East Africa, a region balancing rapid economic growth with fragile ecosystems, the urgency is even sharper. Yet while the idea of waste reduction is well-worn, real, sustained progress remains elusive, and the consequences are mounting.
At the heart of the problem lies a stark statistic: humans are devouring resources 1.7 times faster than Earth can regenerate them. From the markets sprawling across Nairobi’s Gikomba area to the tsunami of single-use plastics choking Lake Victoria’s shores, East Africa is grappling with the fallout of global consumer culture, localized through informal economies and urban sprawl.
Hidden dangers beneath our feet
In cities like Nairobi, Kampala, and Dar es Salaam, waste rarely just “goes away.” Instead, it piles up in landfills, out of sight but not out of mind. Dandora dumpsite in Nairobi, East Africa’s largest, has long symbolised this crisis. Meant to close years ago, it continues to receive over 2,000 metric tonnes of waste daily, sprawling across 30 acres.
But Dandora’s problem isn’t just size; it’s toxicity. Landfills like Dandora leak methane, a greenhouse gas that traps heat 25 times more effectively than carbon dioxide over a century. These emissions quietly but ferociously fuel climate change, while surrounding communities suffer from respiratory diseases, water pollution, and soil degradation.
Dreams deferred: The case of Dandora’s energy potential
Back in the late 2000s, optimism buzzed around Dandora. In a bid to turn trash into treasure, Nairobi County proposed capturing landfill gas to generate electricity. The plan, modelled after successful waste-to-energy projects in cities like Durban (where the Mariannhill landfill produces power from methane), seemed like a win-win: clean energy and landfill management.
Twenty five years later, the dream remains largely that; an unfulfilled promise. Corruption, poor coordination, funding shortages, and shifting political priorities stalled the project repeatedly. Equipment to capture methane was never fully installed; feasibility studies gathered dust. Meanwhile, informal waste pickers, who make precarious livelihoods scavenging at Dandora, were never meaningfully included in planning conversations, creating tension between formal and informal systems.
The regional struggle
Dandora’s tale is not unique. Across East Africa, grand visions for waste management often hit the same roadblocks. In Uganda, Kampala’s city council struggled for years to modernise Kiteezi landfill, initially earmarked for closure in 2009. Instead, Kiteezi continues to operate over capacity, with residents nearby complaining of toxic run-off into waterways feeding into Lake Victoria.
In Tanzania, Dar es Salaam’s efforts to formalize waste collection and recycling under the Sustainable Cities Program saw some success, but scaling up remained a problem. Informal waste collectors – responsible for a significant chunk of recycling – are still often excluded from formal systems, leading to inefficiencies and social friction.
Bright sparks amidst the gloom
Yet not all stories are of failure. About 40 kilometres northeast of Nairobi, a subtle shift is happening at the Kang’oki dumpsite in Thika Town. Managed by the Kiambu County government with support from UN-Habitat, Fukuoka University in Japan, and the Kenyan national government, Kang’oki has emerged as a rare regional example of how dumpsites can be sustainably managed.
Using the “Fukuoka Method,” a semi-aerobic landfill management system pioneered in Japan, Kang’oki drastically reduces the production of harmful gases like methane. Through careful layering, piping, and drainage, the site minimizes environmental damage while also extending the life of the landfill.
Importantly, Kang’oki also integrates waste sorting and recycling efforts, offering better safety conditions for waste workers and helping create a model that other counties, and even neighbouring countries, can study and adapt. For East Africa, where dumpsites often spiral into toxic wastelands, Kang’oki represents a hopeful counter-narrative: with the right partnerships, political will, and community involvement, better outcomes are possible.
Still, innovation is sprouting through the cracks. Kenyan startups like TakaTaka Solutions have pioneered near-total recycling models, collecting waste from households and businesses, sorting it intensively, and recycling over 95% of it. In Rwanda, Kigali’s Umuganda system, mandatory monthly community clean-up days, has helped instill a cultural pride in cleanliness, though critics note it needs to be coupled with systemic waste infrastructure to remain sustainable.
Meanwhile, Uganda’s Eco Brixs transforms plastic waste into eco-friendly construction materials, creating jobs for marginalized communities while tackling plastic pollution head-on. In Ethiopia, Addis Ababa’s Reppie waste-to-energy plant, Africa’s first, was launched with fanfare in 2018, aiming to incinerate 80% of the city’s waste and generate 25 MW of electricity. Although it has faced operational challenges, it remains a landmark attempt at shifting waste from burden to resource.
Facing the true root: A behavioural crisis
Yet for all these efforts, the scale of the problem dwarfs the solutions. A 2024 UNEP report warns that without drastic changes in how we produce, consume, and dispose of goods, municipal solid waste’s impact on climate, biodiversity, and human health will nearly double by 2050.
Worse still, recent studies suggest most climate solutions focus only on symptoms – like switching energy sources – without addressing deeper drivers: overconsumption, unsustainable growth models, and human behaviour itself. As a recent behavioural science report put it, we are living through a “behavioural crisis,” where systemic change is stymied by deeply ingrained habits of disposability and hyper-consumption.
Game plan?
For East Africa, the road forward demands a two-pronged approach: invest in scalable, inclusive waste management systems while also tackling the cultural and behavioural roots of overconsumption. Solutions must be community-based, empowering informal sectors rather than displacing them, and genuinely circular – reducing waste at the source, not just managing it after the fact.
Policies banning plastic bags, like Rwanda’s trailblazing move in 2008, followed by a similar measure by Kenya, are powerful symbols – but they must be matched with education, innovation, and above all, political will.
The clarion call is clear: the region, like the rest of the world, must waste less – and act fast. The future depends on it.
