BY GREG ODOGWU
NO adjective would suffice in describing the spectacle of a daylight riot orchestrated by a horde of scavengers against a squad from the Nigeria police, in one of the highbrow areas of Abuja, last week. I used to hear of violent clash incidents between scavengers and residents but never witnessed one before. The last one that made the news happened sometime this May, at Byazhin, in Kubwa, Bwari Area Council of the Federal Capital Territory, which erupted when a scavenger was caught stealing a pot of soup from a resident. Three lives were lost.
First of all, who are scavengers? They are waste pickers who roam the streets rummaging for discarded plastic articles, scrap metals, and sundry recyclable waste items. They are also the informal waste collectors who pound the city suburbs pushing waste-carts, helping residents dispose of their household waste for a fee. In Abuja, they are generally called “Baban bola” – a Hausa phrase that could be roughly translated to mean father of dustbin.
Professionally, scavengers are the ones who collect waste products from dumpsites and landfills for onward conversion into useful products. In other words, the street scavengers should have their permanent workstations at the dumpsites where they are involved in waste management. They pick and sort; pile and stack; and haul and transport to the recycling plants. As key players in the waste management value chain, they are very crucial in the environmental sector.
In saner climes, the scavengers are resource managers in the circular economy system. They work directly at the corporate level because there is already a seamless model of waste management, right from the domestic level to the industrial rung when the waste is recycled into valuable goods to be reinjected into society at various interfaces. Therefore, the term scavenger might no longer be appropriate in describing these waste managers. Embedded at each stage of the process, they would be known as collectors, sorters, managers, conveyors, among other job descriptions.
However, Nigeria does not provide such an ecosystem. Especially in the FCT, there is this damning image that goes with the nomenclature of waste scavenger, aka Baban bola. Truth be told, a large number of them use the title as a cover for all sorts of criminal activities. They rob and pilfer residents’ properties; they vandalise and steal government assets; and, working like gangs, they harass innocent citizens. Indeed, it has been confirmed that some of them go about as scavengers by day, then armed robbers and pickpockets by night.
There have been many citizens’ complaints regarding such incidents to the FCT authorities, leading to the government banning the scavengers from operating in the city centre. In 2018, FCT minister Mohammed Bello issued a statement to this effect.
The directive read in part: “In furtherance of the commitment of the administration to protect and secure lives and property of all residents of the territory and in accordance with section 35 sub-section 1(i) of the AEPB Act of 1997, which prohibits the collection and disposal of refuse without authorisation, the FCT administration hereby bans scavengers a.k.a Baban Bola from collecting, disposing of refuse, trespassing on refuse bins or similar activities in any part of the Federal Capital City. Baba Bolas are to operate only at the Gousa, Karshi, Bwari, Gwagwalada, Kwali, Abaji and Kuje approved dumpsites as opposed to moving from one neighbourhood to another collecting waste objects across the city of Abuja.”
It is instructive to note that the FCTA explained that it had engaged the leadership of the Baban Bola, before giving them the deadline of 2018 to cease their indiscriminate activities in Abuja. The security agencies were then directed to prosecute anyone found to be violating the directive by going ahead to ply their trade outside the official dumpsites.
Nevertheless, more than six years down the line, the government’s directive has been consistently honoured in the breach. The scavengers could still be spotted roaming neighbourhoods, including the city centre. In the suburbs, they still push their waste carts. They tramp the streets with their scrap-item sacks on their back and pickers in their hand. Likewise, the criminalities that dog their presence have continued unabated. They are fingered in uncountable cases of missing manholes on the roads and highways. In the suburbs, they brazenly pilfer people’s properties in the guise of waste-picking.
Last week Thursday presented a new episode in the Abuja scavengers’ saga. I was a witness. The FCT government under Nyesom Wike, the minister, is presently demolishing some structures (legally or illegally) constructed in some green areas in the city centre. So, while pulling down buildings at the recreation park situated at the Fumilayo Ransome-Kuti Road, Garki, a police squad was on hand to secure the demolition team as they worked. On a good day, this scenario would not ordinarily raise any concerns.
Scavengers, wielding various types of tools of their trade, ranging from scrap sacks to improvised diggers, were appearing out of the blue. Before you could say ‘Abuja’, they had gathered in their hundreds in the perimeter of the demolition site. It was like a locust army. The next thing, the police began to disperse them. But they refused to go. Stubbornly, they converged together on a phalanx to impose themselves on the demolition team. They wanted to enter the site in order to strip the buildings of valuables – i.e. iron rods, plastic wares, wood, bottles, name them. But the police refused them access. That was when things got out of hand.
The police began to fire anti-riot tear gas canisters at the scavengers. But instead of scampering away to escape the enveloping smoke as other people around the vicinity were doing, the scavengers just retreated a few yards, regrouped, and matched forward in defiance.
There was instant panic in the entire area. The filling station across the site, where I came for petrol, hurriedly shut down. Vehicles that were headed in the direction of the riot were turning back in fright. In fact, you could smell danger in the air. It was unbelievable. Scavengers – who were persona non grata in the city centre – were now exchanging fire with the nation’s security forces. They were bravely advancing, hauling missiles at the retreating police squad, who had perceived that there was fire on the mountain.
The squad commander called for reinforcement. The only saving grace was that the ‘fight’ was inside the city, just a few kilometres away from the Force Headquarters. Hence, in a matter of minutes, reinforcement arrived. A well-kitted riot squad sped to the scene and began a hot pursuit of the scavengers. That ended the siege, and residents heaved a sigh of relief. But we must learn a lesson!
It has become obvious that the FCT government is not capable of curbing the excesses of the scavengers. Granted, the security forces are constantly announcing that they have the situation under control, and intermittently parade scavengers caught vandalising government utilities. But this is not a sustainable method.
Due to the harsh economy, citizens troop to the capital city from all over, and scavenging is the easiest ‘employment.’ Clearly, the Scavengers Association of Nigeria does not have the capacity to bring sanity to the sector. The onus is on the FCT administration to change its tactics. Perhaps, it should start by learning from Lagos State which has recorded relative success by providing an enabling environment for scavengers to organise and become responsible, with a business plan and definite modus operandi.
