Life On The Brink

Thousands of Nigerians scratch out a living by scavenging for food across several dumpsites in Nigeria
By Ayodeji Adeyemi
Dawn had just poured over the streets of Lagos like liquid copper, when a huge truck carrying a cocktail of smelly garbage, snaked unsteadily along the road, rattled to a stop and disgorged its hideous content on a dump ground.
A colony of scavenger, with lightening speed, swooped on the virgin garbage as goldminers would dash for a deposit of gold. An old woman named Romoke was part of the scavengers as she perched on the heap of rotten dirt, viewing them with expert eyes. This was her job and her means of livelihood. Just as a skilled Lawyer would sit inside his air conditioned chamber and go through his documents, so did Romoke go through the pile of dirt. After about four hours of drudgery, sweat forming a garland across her baked face, she receded and took a break. Sitting on the ground, she struck a conversation with another scavenger. And for a brief moment, they seemed transposed to another world, forgetting all their worries. Not too far from her, a young woman, ensconced on a heap of dirt busied herself with a plate of food. The atmosphere was choking with stench as she gobbled down her meal with contentment. Yet just above her nose, a woman who had excreted cleaned herself with pieces of tattered paper. Romoke then stood up and stretched her weary back and returned to work.
Egrets perched atop the dirt searching for worms. Some pigs were having a field day rummaging the dirt for food, competing with the scavengers. After about another four hours, Romoke had managed to pack an assorted heap of nylon, rubber, paper, packs of Gala sausage. According to the mother of three, the nylons, rubber and paper would be sold, while the packs of gala would be taken home. “When I get home I will eat the Gala” she said.
Romoke works for about 10 hours a day and seven days a week. She neither has a day of rest, nor a social life and the word “vacation” is alien to her. Though she knows that her job is impacting negatively on her health, she has no other means of livelihood, at least for now. “This work allows me to have money to contribute for cooperative,” she said as tears escaped her eyes.
Age is certainly not on Romoke's side. While the younger scavengers pack three bags of booty a day with ease, the old lady only manages one bag.
Romoke sells a pile of paper and rubber at NIO and N5 per kilo respectively. She makes N500 per week. However on a very good week, when her health cooperates with her, she makes N700. “This money puts food on the table,” she says.
When she was through with her days work, she carried her booty and went to hide it in a secret corner. “Some scavengers use to steal other people’s goods,” she said, looking around suspiciously “I will sell these goods tomorrow when the buyer comes.”
Just like Romoke, Bolanle 35, scrapes a living from scavenging. she works for about ten hours a day and six days a week. But due to her ebullience she is able to gather about three bags of booty and so she earns more than her compatriot, Romoke. Even though, she makes a little over N1,000 a week it is not enough to take care of her big family, consisting of five children.
However Bolanle is quite lucky, as she would be going back to her home at Ketu. But for Ahmed Shehu, 33, the stinky waste ground is his only home. He sleeps and wakes in a makeshift structure made with nylon bags and stick, which he calls a house. The six feet tall structure is no bigger than a toilet. And the only thing inside the “house” is a torn mattress. Shehu must hope that whenever it rains, it isn’t the “cat and dog” variety or else his room would turn into a pool. His only asset is a thick blanket which he employs to cover himself because of the cold night. Mosquitoes are the least of his worries. “I have been staying here since four years,” he says through the help of an interpreter.
A dark skinned man wearing only underwear emerged from one of the makeshift house. His house is next to Shehu’s albeit much smaller. He however has an additional property more than Shehu, which is a mosquito net. The net proves valuable to him because of his old age.
Life for shehu and his colleagues, who live in an estate of makeshift houses, could not be more cruel. Filth to them is like a gold necklace which must be worn, rather than abhorred. The wasteland is their livelihood and neighborhood.
Every day is the same for Shehu. It starts with taking his bath at any available open space. Then he goes to a canteen, inside the wasteland, to eat. Thereafter work starts. Shehu has a routine of going through the vast pile of dump searching for cement bags and steel. They fetch more money than paper and rubber. On an average day he gathers three dozens of bag and a pile of steel. A dozen cement bag sells for N20 while a kilo of steel sells for a hundred naira. The Sokoto indigene however refused to disclose his daily income saying it depends on luck. “If I have luck sometimes I make more money,” he says.
Shehu works for 11 hours a day and seven days a week. Like Romoke, there is no such thing as leave for the bachelor who hopes to marry one day and leave the job. “No woman will marry me with this type of job. When I make money I will leave this job, marry and start a business.” He said.
Romoke, Bolanle and Shehu are just three out of hundreds of thousands of Nigeria who eke out a living by scavenging. To this teeming armies of scavenger, the loathed job is only way out. Even though their country Nigeria is the six largest oil producers in the world and has a foreign reserve hovering over $40 billion, it makes no difference in their lives. Indeed, they have learnt in the hard way that they cannot rely on government or anyone for help. And so, there only hope is to scavenge to keep the body and soul together, discounting the hazards, such as exposure to toxic or contaminated waste. Perhaps there fortune would be better in the next life. This is Romoke’s only succor.