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In Nigeria, many women suffer ailments resulting from the use of firewood and data from the World Health Organization estimates that over 98,000 of these women die annually as a result.  Some of these women-especially those who are into palm kernel processing-are aware of the implications. But with no support to adopt more energy-efficient methods, they risk their health to earn a living. Arinze Chijioke reports. 

Inside an open space roofed with corrugated zinc sheets in the Garki area of Enugu State, Southeast Nigeria, smoke constantly goes up and disappears into the horizon. Metal drum containers are holding water and Palm kernel Sludge, the residue obtained from oil palm mills after the extraction of oil from palm nuts.

Nwani Catherine stands with her hands firmly holding a long, wooden stick which she uses to stir the metal drum containers, one at a time. At intervals, she uses her drenched shirt to wipe the beads of sweat on her face.

Catherine pours water into one of her drums

The heat from the three-stoned open cooking fire is unbearable and leaves her wheezing badly from firewood smoke, tears welling up in her eyes. But she has to stir for hours to get oil from the Sludge which companies come to buy and further process into detergent, soap, perfume, cream and other products.

This has been her routine since 2017, two years after her husband died and left her with the burden of catering for their four children.

Before she was introduced to the business by a friend, Catherine sold foodstuffs inside Ogbete, one of Enugu’s main markets. But it was not profitable. Sometimes, she made a profit of N200 after each day’s sale.

“I felt I needed another business to be able to take care of my children, “she said.  It is what money I earn from here that I pay their fees and our rent”.

Initially, when she started the business, she was buying the Palm Kernel sludge directly from artisanal and small-scale oil palm mills and processing it further to get other products. But with time, she could not afford to buy directly. Now, she works for a group of women who own the business.

Every day, at 6:30 am, Catherine leaves her house to ensure that she gets to the location before 7 am. Sometimes, she treks. Most of the time, she boards a bus. At the location, she separates the Sludge which often comes in different bags into 12 drums after which she sets fire to them and begins to stir.

“The Sludge is usually hard when poured into the drums, “she said. “I have to go round and stir each drum for hours to get the liquid content and also ensure that it does not burn”.

At intervals, she ambles to the stream close to the location where she gets water used in the processing.  After processing, the oil stays at the top of the drum while palm kernel cake- another by-product stays at the bottom.

The next morning, she begins her day by scraping the drums for the Cake which can be used as feed for swine and also serves as manure routinely used by smallholder farmers. It is also used to replace up to 66 per cent of chemical fertilizers in palm plantations.

She and other women who are in the processing business arrange the cakes into different bags and help load them into vehicles, earning N50 per bag. For each drum processed, the women earn N250. That is N3000 for 12 drums and N1500 for six.

Palm kernel cake used as feed for for swine and fertilizer for crop production

Whenever there is a scarcity of Palm kernels, the women go for two weeks and sometimes more without working and that affects their income. They leave the location between 5-6 pm daily.

Catherine often feels weakness in her bones and pain in her chest whenever she returns home after each day’s work. The smoke from the fire disturbs her eyes. But she rarely takes medication.

“I don’t want to get used to it and always spend my money on drugs, “she said.  “I have allowed my body to get used to the process. For my eyes, I buy Yeast and eat enough vegetables. I also drink soda water whenever it blocks my breathing”.

Africa is hardest hit

The use of open fires and solid fuels for cooking remains one of the world’s most pressing health and environmental problems, directly impacting nearly half of the world’s population- more than 3 billion- and causing nearly four million premature deaths each year, according to the Global Alliance for Clean Cookstoves.

In Sub-Saharan Africa alone, some 950 million people- about 81 per cent of the population- are said to rely on wood and charcoal for cooking, a number which is estimated to grow to 1.67 billion by 2050.

Research also indicates that the highest death rates from cooking fuel pollution occur in poorer African countries, with smoke inhalation from indoor and outdoor cooking causing between 1.6 million and 3 million deaths of children in the continent yearly.

Among the health issues arising from smoke inhalation In developing countries, including Nigeria include respiratory infections, eye damage, heart and lung disease and lung cancer, cardiovascular diseases and bronchitis which are significant causes of death in both children under five and women.

Of the 4 million global deaths recorded annually, 27% are due to pneumonia, 18% from stroke, 27% from ischaemic heart disease, 20% from chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) and 8% are from lung cancer, according to data from WHO data.

Kelo Uchendu, Policy Lead of YOUNGO, the UN Framework Convention on climate change, (UNFCCC) Children and youth constituency, said that apart from being one of the drivers of death, especially in Africa, open fire cooking remains one of the major causes of unsustainable tree harvest and is responsible for about 20% of black carbon emission.

The training process

Before Duru started the business in 2020, she was trained for two months on how to pour the chaff into the drums and what quantity to ensure that it does not waste as you turn. She was also trained on how to add fire to the product and what quantity of water to add and how to stir.

“If you pour too much water, for instance, it becomes hard for you to stir, “she said. “Some people learn everything about the business in one month while some catch up in three months,”.

When she resumed, she worked for one week and stopped because she could not bear the hit from the drums and the stress that comes with the processing. But she came back again, determined this time to work and earn money for herself and her family.

Duru stirs her drums of palm kernel chaff

The mother of five had worked as a caregiver in a private nursery school in Enugu where she was earning a meagre N5000 as salary every month.  But It was hard enough to meet her needs.

“Sometimes, I was not paid my salary in full and sometimes, they often withheld it, “she recalled.  “And it always resulted in quarrels. “I could not save up or invest in anything”.

But in her current job, she gets paid daily and earns more than three times her salary at her former school.  Depending on her strength, Duru earns between N1500 and N3000 daily. She also gets N500 as money for feeding daily.

“With the money I make, I am able to support my husband who is a commercial bus driver in taking care of the family, “she said.

Since she started the job, Duru has not fallen sick because she has become used to the business. She takes Sodar water because of the smoke she inhales Sometimes, I spend almost the entire day here.

Duru comes out here as early as 7 am to be able to meet up with her daily target. On arrival, she begins by scrapping the drums for Palm Kernel cake which she arranges in small bags.

Where the women fetch water used for production

Usually, when she returns home, exhausted, she lays down on a cement floor to be able to regain her strength. She said that several women had also stopped working after some time because they could not cope with the stress that comes with it.

Like Duru, Ngozi Godwin got into the processing business in 2020. Before then, she was into petty foodstuff trading inside Ogbete, Enugu’s Main Market. But the money she makes was hardly enough for her to pay bills back home.

A mother of five, she also worked as a cleaner as a government officer. But her monthly salary of N20,000 was often delayed. She always transported herself to the office, spending the little she had.  Sometimes, before she gets paid, she spends everything on household needs.

“It was hard for me to save, “she said. “All of that frustrated me and I had to find an alternative, especially as someone who had children,”. My sister who had been in the business for more than 20 years now introduced me to it.

Godwin pours water into the drum

She explained that although the processing business is stressful, it is more profitable and she can support her husband who is a commercial bus driver in taking care of the family. It also allows her more time to do other things for herself.

“I am often exhausted whenever I return home, but I must come the next day to work because I have to make money,” Now, I can save from the N3000 I earn daily”.

No efforts to invest in sustainable approaches

At the U.N. Climate Change Conference (COP26), African countries, including Nigeria renewed their commitment to transitioning from polluting cooking fuels. They were also determined in their call for an affordable energy transition.

However, Uchendu said that the Nigerian government often looks at the bigger picture without realistic timelines when talking about energy transition, and climate policies on strategies.

“The government is failing to understand the different small scale grass root innovations and how local women-especially those into Palm Kernel processing- can be supported with more sustainable approaches to business, thereby increasing their income, “he said. “Their activities are hardly recognised”.

He noted that these women often resort to fuelwood at the expense of their health and the environment because they lack the funds to adopt more energy-efficient methods in their processing activities.

“Energy transition has to be a coordinated effort, from the bottom to the top and this means supporting women with cleaner and healthier alternatives which will cut down the time and resources used, that is lesser input and more output, “he said.  Private entities can also come in to invest in these women and boost productivity,”.

Catherine and other women remain hopeful that more energy-efficient methods will be introduced to make their work a lot easier and less harmful to their health.

 

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By Frederick Clayton and Sonja Smith

Photography by Margaret Courtney-Clarke

Ever since independence, Namibians have sought education, employment and better lives in Windhoek, the country’s political and industrial epicentre. It’s harder to make a living in rural Namibia – southern Africa’s driest savannah – where there’s little to no infrastructure, investment or industry. With so few opportunities to work and study, thousands leave for the city every year, and the capital’s population has tripled since independence.

2022 – In Max-Mutongolume, an extension of the Havana informal settlement outside of Windhoek, toilets built by Development Workshop Namibia in 2019 for the Smart Kindergarten preschool are kept locked at all times for fear of vandalism. To use the toilets, which are painted with instructional graphics on how to use them properly, children are accompanied by a volunteer supervisor.

This influx of migration has stretched the city’s limits and worsened sanitation. Informal settlements, like Havana, have expanded uncontrollably as people arrive faster than Windhoek can provide services. These newcomers build shacks in tiny pockets of space without any regulation, arrangement or design. 

“There’s no structure, no planning; you cannot put in water pipes,” said Sebastian Husselmann, Windhoek’s chief engineer for bulk and wastewater. “How do you put a sewage network in an unplanned area?”

Conditions here are perfect for the spread of disease as overcrowding leads to the cross-contamination of faeces, water and food. “Some of them are 19, 20, 35 in one house. One toilet for 35 people – it’s not healthy or hygienic,” says Councilor Rodman Katjaimo.  

This is where Hepatitis E hit hardest, accounting for 62% of confirmed and suspected cases during Namibia’s recent outbreak, which started in 2017.

2019 – An oryx suffered a common fate for many wild animals in the arid Namib desert of western Namibia. The poorly maintained fences surrounding the national park separate wildlife from the few sources of water that exist on neighboring private land. In their search, the animals will try to jump the fence, only to end up trapped and mauled to death by jackals, vultures or hyenas

In the run-up to the 2019 elections, President Hage Geingob declared living conditions in informal settlements a “humanitarian crisis” and promised to rid cities of shacks before 2024. But this hasn’t happened. In Windhoek, they are now growing at a rate of 10% each year, according to Sade Gawanas, the city’s former mayor and member of the Landless People’s Movement Party. 

Namibia’s urban and rural development minister, Erastus Uutoni, declined to comment on the government’s failure to slow the growth of informal settlements, but, in February 2023, he said Namibia faced serious sanitation problems if urbanization was left unchecked. He called on local authorities to direct budgeting toward sanitation infrastructure and upgrading the informal settlements. 

Ten years ago, Letisia Nghiondjwa, 44, moved to Havana with her husband from Okanguati village in northern Namibia “for a better life.” She makes a living selling fat cakes — fried dough coated in sugar — and oshikundu, a traditional Namibian brew. But she and her husband are two of many who have been squeezed into dangerously squalid conditions.

“We live by the dumpsite, and when it rains you cannot sleep [because of] the smell,” she says. “It’s been 10 years now, and nothing much has been done by the government to make our lives easier… We sleep in sewage.”

Across the political spectrum, ministers, politicians and councillors have called for greater investment in rural areas, and yet Namibia’s rural development and coordination budget dropped 33% between 2019 and 2022, according to CCIJ’s analysis.

2022 – Martin Bonafatius, 32, and his neighbors work to extend a communal water point to the next neighborhood in Kavango East in northern Namibia. The government installed one tap for a large community, and so residents have chipped in to buy pipes and dig trenches to extend the line. Two 100-meter pipes cost N $5800 (or about $400), as well as a free dayÕs labor from six men. The first tap was installed in the 1990s. The residents have built seven more since 2020. ÒWe donÕt want to die waiting for [the] government,Ó he says.

“Everybody over the years has just been centralizing into Windhoek,” said Archie Benjamin, SWAPO member and CEO for the municipality of Swakopmund. “The intention of the government at independence was to develop the rural areas to such an extent that people don’t feel the need to relocate, but that has not really worked out.”

The government must act soon if it wants to address this growing issue. Urbanization is creating conditions that lead to more death and disease as settlements like Havana expand, and climate change is exacerbating the problem as persistent drought conditions for the past seven years have left many in rural Namibia who depend on crops and livestock jobless.

Simon Dirkse, head of climate at Windhoek’s Meteorological Institute, was pessimistic in his assessment of Namibia’s future and the impact of more extreme weather events. “Yes, climate change is forcing migration,” he said, adding “our poverty levels and these extreme events don’t go together.”

But people need to work. Selma Mpasi, 21, who sits in the shade selling oranges by the side of the road with her two-year-old daughter sleeping on her lap, said business is slow, with fewer tourists passing these days. “Our lands are so dry,” she says. “I want to go to Windhoek.”

2022 – Two typical government toilets in a state of disrepair in Havana, an informal settlement on the outskirts of Namibia’s capital.


Namibia is one of many countries in Africa struggling with the harshest impacts of climate change, but here the issue is amplifying the lack of adequate sanitation in and around cities.

Attempts to fill the sanitation gaps

 Ndahambelela Indongo, 39, lives in Max-Mutongolume, a community inside Havana informal settlement. She used to walk for an hour into the hills to find a safe space to defecate, but after learning about the negative health effects, she built her own toilet and tippy tap – a hygienic hand-washing mechanism that uses running water.  

Indongo got her information from a sanitation center run by Development Workshop Namibia (DW), an NGO that has helped communities across the country become open defecation free (ODF) – status granted when a community shows an ongoing adoption of good hygiene practice and all its members have access to sanitation facilities, with at least 80% of residents using them.   

DW does this by using Community-Led Total Sanitation (CLTS), a collaborative, bottom-up approach aimed at achieving and sustaining ODF free status by focusing on “igniting a change in sanitation behaviour through community participation rather than constructing toilets.” Facilitators trained on CLTS help community members understand the consequences of open defecation, which they hope will lead to mobilization, a demand for sanitation and the community deciding for themselves what action they will take.  

Since its inception, DW says it has built 66 sanitation centers in public spaces that each include a demonstration toilet to incentivize residents to build their own. To date, it claims it has trained 323 local brick-layers in toilet construction, who can then offer their services to assist residents. (CCIJ has not been able to independently verify those figures.)

 In the absence of government-backed sanitation services and information campaigns, schemes like these have helped transform informal settlements and rural communities by creating a demand for sanitation and motivating residents to invest in solutions. But only 13 areas in Namibia are currently ODF. 

2022 – Roughly 90 kilometers outside of Rundu, Namibia, Mr. Hangura, 84, was en route from his far-off resettled farm to collect water for his family but got stranded with a punctured tire. While his oxen graze in the bushes, he waits for a grandson to return with a repaired inner tube, which he says could take two days.

 Organizations like DW and UNICEF cannot facilitate this kind of change nationwide, and Shuuya is realistic about what Namibia can accomplish without government support. “We are not going to be able to achieve the SDG6 goal unless something drastic happens,” he said. “We need a national campaign with proper government leadership to promote the importance of sanitation. That would really make a change.”

Reasons for hope 

Since the turn of the millennium, the number of people using basic sanitation services in Botswana has increased by 28.1%, and the country was among just a handful of sub-Saharan nations to achieve the UN’s Millennium Development Goals of halving the number of people without access to basic sanitation by 2015, doing so five years ahead of schedule.

Botswana continues to improve sanitation by actively advocating and improving legislation while promoting hygiene. In 2017, the Ministry of Land Management, Water and Sanitation Services laid out its responsibilities of “coordinating and monitoring sanitation services,” managing “on-site sanitation” and improving WASH services alongside the Ministry of Health. 

Botswana has also invested in both wet and dry sanitation. And, since 2001, the government has allocated almost a fifth of its budget to health care every year.

The nation now faces its own challenges in reaching zero open defecation by 2030, as diarrheal diseases remain a prominent concern, and there is still a stark gap between urban and rural sanitation levels. But Botswana’s government understands that prioritizing sanitation and public health underpins economic growth and better living conditions, which is reflected in deliberate strategy and policy. 

By contrast, progress in Namibia has faltered. However, there is still a chance that the country will embrace more aggressive investment and focus on improving sanitation by raising awareness and working with communities.  

SWAPO’s 2021 Harambee Prosperity Plan II allocated N$120 million ($8 million) to officially launch CLTS in Namibia and “increase WASH awareness through the community construction of latrines.” The government has also trained staff from four ministries on CLTS, while the latest draft of Namibia’s 2022-2027 National Sanitation and Hygiene Strategy combines “awareness development” and “changing social norms” with providing infrastructure.

Later in 2021, the government also launched the Namibia Water Sector Support Programme (NWSSP), one of the nation’s biggest ever infrastructure projects aimed at directly improving sanitation for 1 million Namibians, funded by a $121.7 million loan from the Africa Development Bank in 2019. Targets include reducing open defecation in rural areas to 55% by 2025 and ensuring access to improved sanitation services for all Namibians by 2030.

2019 – Though living in a country plagued by hardships, Selma Jacobs performs a traditional rain dance across the barren Omongwa (ÒSaltÓ) Pan in eastern Namibia. Of prime importance to the Kalahari bushmen/San groups are ritual dances that serve to heal the group. Here Selma goes into a trance dance while women clap their hands and chant to her altered state of existence. Birth, death, gender, rain and weather are all believed to have supernatural significance.

When the project was launched in August 2021 by Calle Schlettwein, Namibia’s Minister for Agriculture, Water and Land Reform, he urged service providers, contractors and consultants not to cut corners and appealed for “accountability, transparency and a corruption-free atmosphere to prevail.” 

This sounds good on paper, but after more than a year, the scheme’s major projects are still in the design and procurement phase. Schlettwein’s office admitted that the NWSSP had had “a slow start” and that “much more funding” would be required to meet SDG6. 

Lukas Shilongo, 21, who lives in Havana, is already skeptical. “They make campaigns, lie to us, then they forget,” he said. “They promise us water, electricity, toilets. [They don’t] come.”

Gawanas, the former Windhoek mayor, agreed that leaders had used sanitation as a campaign tactic during elections and later broke their promises. “I don’t think [politicians] want to solve the problem,” she said. “They want to keep people begging for more because it is their tool to stay in power.”  

Geingob was reelected as president for a second term in 2019. However, that election saw SWAPO’s vote percentage drop significantly from 87% in 2014 to 56% — its biggest loss of support in the nation’s history, as drought, recession and a massive corruption scandal weighed on voters.

2022 – By this time of year, in the rural Kavango East region of northern Namibia, residents would usually be plowing their farms. Now that the rain arrives two months later, their only business is to sell oranges on the roadside.

As Namibians return to the ballot box in 2024, they may be tired of begging for their human rights, too. As SWAPO’s electoral dominance fades, politicians of all parties and at every level could be forced to keep their promises on sanitation services, or risk being held accountable at the polls. 

Alfons Kaundu, a Mbunza traditional authority chief in rural Namibia, thinks that’s a possibility. “People are suffering here,” he said. “The government is not respecting people’s rights. [But] maybe the next election is going to be different.” 

Namibia’s rural development and coordination budget drop was calculated using Vote 17 found in Government Accountability Reports from 2019-2020 and 2021-2022.

This report was produced by the Centre for Collaborative Investigative Journalism (CCIJ), a non-profit organisation that brings together investigative reporters, visual storytellers and data scientists to investigate key global issues affecting communities. This report was supported by the Pulitzer Centre.

 

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By Frederick Clayton and Sonja Smith

Photography by Margaret Courtney-Clarke

In 2012, a UN special rapporteur said Namibia’s sanitation deficit was due to a “lack of a common vision” and an “absence of effective coordination among the different ministries.” In 2023, these are still the biggest obstacles to improving sanitation.

Xhuka Shorty and his family are San, an indigenous group of people in southern Africa. Eight years ago, he and 16 members of his family were evicted from the farmland where they had lived and worked as labourers for generations. 

Left to survive off Shorty’s monthly pension of N$1300 ($87), they migrated to Katumba village in northwest Namibia, where they lived under the shade of a tree. One day in 2019, the government installed a toilet next to Shorty’s tree. “What am I supposed to do with this?”, he asked. 

Shorty was given a dry toilet — a type of toilet that uses no water or chemicals to move waste along. Instead, excrement drops into a tank or bag that must be emptied and cleaned. The lifetime costs of dry toilets are lower than that of flush toilets as they save on water, and some even produce fertilizer from the dried waste. In southern Africa’s driest country, where sewage connections reach just 35% of citizens, they are vital to providing sanitation.  

But they do require more work. There’s no water seal to protect from the smell, so things can get ugly quickly without daily cleaning and good ventilation. Every so often the tank must be emptied. And if the toilet is a pit latrine, then one must dig another hole and move the pot before next use. There are also things you can’t always put down the hole – such as water – and, like all toilets, sometimes they need fixing.

None of this is obvious, especially if you’ve never used one.

2022 – A self-built shower, locked with wiring, by the side of the road in Havana informal settlement on the outskirts of Windhoek, Namibia. Photo: Margaret Courtney-Clarke

In 2012, after visiting Namibia, the UN’s special rapporteur on the human right to safe drinking water and sanitation, Catarina de Albuquerque, outlined that public participation “in the design, implementation and monitoring” of toilet initiatives would be indispensable in providing the country with sanitation. She also warned that the benefits of investing in sanitation would be lost if the government failed to give equal attention to “hygiene promotion and awareness raising on the benefits of safe sanitation.”

Simply put, building toilets would not guarantee their use. People must want to use them, but to create that incentive many Namibians, who had lacked adequate sanitation for decades, would need to be educated on the benefits and instructed on proper cleaning, maintenance and hygiene.

The government acknowledges this. In fact, the government’s 2008 Water Supply and Sanitation Policy outlined that improving sanitation would be achieved by “community involvement and participation.” And yet it appears it has not followed its own guidance.

In 2012, the government constructed 10,000 dry Ecosan toilets across five northern regions at a cost of N$181.5 million ($22.4 million), but many are no longer usable because residents say they were not provided with instruction, promotion, cleaning or maintenance guidance upon installation.

Paulus Mutikisha, the headman for Ekolanaambo, a village in northern Namibia’s Oshana region and one of the beneficiaries in 2012, told the Namibian Sun in 2019, “We have never used [the toilets] because we were never trained on how to use them,” adding that some facilities were not installed properly. ”Money has been wasted, and the structures are… falling apart,” he said.

2022 – From their home in Katondo village in Kavango West in northern Namibia, Elizabeth Katota and her family walk down to the infested Okavango River each evening– as do so many families. Photo: Margaret Courtney-Clarke

In 2014, many beneficiaries of a scheme that aimed to build 6,500 pit latrines across the country returned to the bush to defecate. Residents of the Coblenz and Okondjatu villages in central Namibia complained about the stench, bemoaning their inability to keep the toilets in good condition. “We only have a few of these dry pit toilets, and as much as they are helpful, we are challenged when it comes to their maintenance,” Unjee Usora told the Namibian. “At the end of the day, the toilet is filled with faeces.”

The latest draft of Namibia’s 2022-2027 National Sanitation and Hygiene Strategy, reviewed by CCIJ, accepts that “[u]ser involvement in the choice of sanitation systems and their construction, operation and maintenance [was] limited… [leading] to sanitation facilities not being used, operated or maintained properly.”

Flush or dry, providing sanitation is not just an infrastructure project, and the government is aware of this too. It was the duty of the Ministry of Agriculture, Water and Land Reform (MAWLR) to organize “the training of communities on operation and maintenance,” according to the government’s 2010-2015 National Sanitation and Hygiene Strategy. The Ministry of Health and Social Services (MoHSS), meanwhile, was responsible for conducting “hygiene education in rural areas and informal settlements.” But this doesn’t appear to have happened.

In fact, according to the latest draft of Namibia’s 2022-2027 National Sanitation and Hygiene Strategy, MAWLR and the Ministry of Urban and Rural Development (MURD) alone built 20,230 sanitation facilities between 2009 and 2019, yet “no community involvement and participation or sanitation hygiene promotion activities were incorporated.” During those 10 years, open defecation dropped by just 2.7% nationwide, while sanitation levels in urban areas actually declined.

CCIJ asked Dr Elijah Ngurare, MAWLR’s Deputy Executive Director for Water Affairs, why Namibia had failed to engage communities in training and operation or to run a national campaign promoting hygiene. He said, “Sanitation challenges have been acknowledged and the government has now decided to scale up the process… construction, maintenance and rehabilitation is going to be the norm. This includes both rural-urban and rural sanitation.”

But the government has made implementing such strategies as complicated as possible. Rather than centralizing responsibility for improving sanitation, seven ministries, regional councils and local authorities have each been tasked with its delivery: MAWLR, MoHSS, MURD, the Ministry of Education, Arts and Culture (MoEAC), the Ministry of Environment Forest and Tourism (MEFT) and the Ministry of Gender Equality, Poverty Eradication and Social Welfare (MGEPESW) each have funding for sanitation in their budgets.

Meanwhile, local authorities – partly funded by the central government – are responsible for providing sanitation in urban areas, including informal settlements, and the Ministry of Work and Transport (MWT) is responsible for developing new and managing existing wet sanitation systems.

This division of duties and funding makes it especially difficult to monitor and track investment in sanitation, as well as Namibia’s adherence to the 2015 Ngor declaration, in which the government promised to annually commit a minimum of 0.5% GDP to sanitation and hygiene from 2020 onward.

The latest version of Namibia’s 2022-2027 Sanitation and Hygiene Strategy acknowledges that the government and local authorities “do not have a clear budget line for sanitation… As a result, the sanitation budget is… difficult to track.”

Shuuya of UNICEF Namibia said this contributed to poor coordination of the sanitation sector, something the government admitted in its 5th National Development Plan. “The sector is… not playing together,” he explained, adding he was desperate to see the Namibian government develop a separate sanitation budget so that it could monitor funding moving forward.

The consequences of insufficient governance are evident in surveying the Namibian landscape. Damaged, disused and derelict government toilets can be found across the country. Often, they are filthy beyond use, blocked by a newspaper or filled with excrement, and a considerable number no longer function.

2019- Xhuka Shorty, aged 102, and his family settled under a tree in Katumba village, now a Herero settlement in the Otjozondjupa region of Namibia, in 2015

Cutting corners

At a time when sanitation is in desperate need of a dedicated, coordinated and potentially more costly approach, those in the private sector say the government has complicated their efforts to provide more sustainable options. 

Eline van der Linden is the executive director of Omuramba Impact Investing, the sole distributor of a dry toilet called the Enviro Loo. Unlike the ventilated pit latrines preferred by the government, her toilets reduce odor by separating waste from urine and are built with a closed container that prevents groundwater pollution. Crucially, she also offers user and maintenance training upon installation — including refresher courses on cleaning and maintenance with locals who can then charge the community a fee for their services as cleaners or janitors. 

But the technology and training come at a higher price tag, which is why van der Linden no longer bids on government tenders. Her cost simply exceeds government specifications.

“[The government] thinks cheap solutions will last,” said van der Linden, who has never seen training included as part of a tender. “When they do put dry toilets down, they do it without any additional effort… No toilet system will work without educating communities on daily cleaning.”

A proper approach is not as cheap and easy as simply building toilets, but it has proven effective. In 2010, German development agency Gesellschaft für Internationale Zusammenarbeit (GIZ) supported the Omaruru Basin Management Committee (OmBMC) in central Namibia by providing 140 residents inside an informal settlement with 21 dry Otji toilets, designed by Namibian NGO Clay House Project (CHP).

CHP staff built the toilets while training local labourers how to do so too, and nurtured a sense of ownership as beneficiaries made a small financial contribution and assisted in painting and digging. Each toilet was equipped with instructions and handwashing facilities, and CHP also conducted an awareness-raising campaign to promote the use of toilets which remained in use and well maintained more than 18 months later. The OmBMC said there was even demand for 100 more. 

But more toilets required additional funding or subsidies from the Municipality of Omaruru via MAWLR. As well as their relatively high cost, the local authorities also considered them inferior to “high-class” flush toilets despite the extra maintenance, construction and operational costs of flush toilets. A 2012 CHP report on the Otji toilets concluded that “[w]ithout the support of decision-makers, it will not be possible to establish a dry sanitation system on a large scale.” 

Van der Linden says she has encountered the same stubborn obsession with flush toilets, and markets her toilets as a sustainable “in the meantime solution” for people who will one day, ideally, have flush. Her Enviro Loos, like Otji toilets, are not the cheapest on the market, but she thinks that instead of investing larger amounts in the best dry toilets, the government would rather wait to score points with flush toilets. “They do not see any benefits in dry sanitation,” she added. 

Shuuya says there’s some truth in this. Under the apartheid regime, which preceded Namibia’s independence, “flush toilets were the preserve of the colonizers, the white people,” he explains. “Blacks were provided with pit toilets and bucket toilets.”

Namibia’s Minister for Health and Social Services, Dr Kalumbi Shangula, declined to comment on the historical connection, but Shuuya argues that this helps explain why many Black Namibians still perceive even quality dry toilets as inferior.

“But then there are practicalities,” Shuuya notes. “You can only have a flush toilet when you have water.”

Windhoek rural constituency councillor and member of the opposition party the Popular Democratic Movement, Petrus Adams, has flush toilets in his town, Groot Aub, but residents don’t always have enough water to use them. “[But] open defecation,” he says, “what does it cost?” 

In a country where almost a third of citizens worry about where their next meal will come from, many can scarcely afford the 16,000 litres of extra water it costs to flush a toilet per person each year.

“Wet sanitation risks making unaffordable water even more unaffordable,” added de Alberqueue, the UN’s special rapporteur who urged Namibia to promote dry toilets in her 2012 report, warning that if people continue to perceive dry toilets as inferior, they would never embrace them. But she advised that no one size fits all, and that “communities and households must have choices about which sanitation technology suits their needs best.”

This, too, requires community engagement, and while that outreach is costly, so is the price of poor sanitation. Shangula told CCIJ that inadequate access to sanitation was leading to sickness and infection, while the risk of disease and pollution also threatens tourism and agricultural industries.

“There’s a need to establish what the cost of inaction is,” added Shuuya. “Perhaps the decision-makers don’t have the evidence to say, ‘This is what we’re losing out on by not investing in sanitation.’” 

But while the full cost of Namibia’s crisis is unknown, it is clear the government has significant work to do to address it in a timely manner.

2022 – A couple returns home after walking a kilometer out of town to defecate in the Democratic Resettlement Community.

A weak defence

By the government’s own admission, sanitation has stalled in recent years, and the various ministries tasked with improving sanitation have each failed to prioritize the sector

MURD, for example, has failed to hit its toilet targets in four of the last five years. In 2021, the ministry promised to construct 10,000 new toilets in rural areas but built only 980 before claiming the original target was “erroneously indicated” and that 1,000 was the real target. In explaining the failure to meet even the 1,000 toilets target, MURD said “late submission of activity plans and accountability reports from the regions result[ed] in late approval of budgets.”

The sector has also failed to communicate its strategy with members of parliament. A draft of Namibia’s 2022-2027 National Sanitation and Hygiene Policy acknowledged that one of the biggest obstacles were politicians and local authorities continuing to promise flush facilities as ministries agreed to promote dry sanitation in urban and rural areas.

And 14 years ago, the government outlined plans – with input from four ministries, local authorities and the office of the prime minister – to stimulate “behavioural change” with a national hygiene campaign. This was supposed to happen by 2015, yet Namibia has still not had a nationwide campaign to promote both sanitation and hygiene.

MAWLR, charged with the coordination of government sanitation services, admitted via email to CCIJ that challenges in improving sanitation included “poor sanitation practices and the non-involvement of communities,” but said limited access to water, resources and finance remained a hindrance. 

But vast sums have been allocated to the ministries responsible for sanitation. Whether those funds are actually spent on sanitation is a matter of priority, and, in 2022, MAWLR cut its Water Supply and Sanitation Coordination budget by 72.7%

Ngurare admitted that “most funding earmarked for water and sanitation in the last couple of years had unfortunately been redirected to the Neckartal dam,” Namibia’s largest dam that supports a large irrigation scheme in the south.

Shangula, the health minister, also blamed a lack of funds, arguing low tax revenues prevented Namibia from prioritizing sanitation. “You can only [improve sanitation] if you have money, and we don’t have enough for it,” he said. “The economic base of Namibia is very small.”

But, again, it may just be an issue of prioritization. In recent years, the lion’s share of Namibia’s health budget allocation has been spent on curative rather than preventative services, with little left for projects that could promote sanitation and hygiene.

And while Namibia may have a narrow tax base, according to the World Bank, it generates more tax revenue per capita than Botswana, Lesotho and almost as much as Zambia, three countries in southern Africa with better sanitation coverage than Namibia.  

Shangula denied that other countries in the region were performing better than Namibia – with lower defecation rates and better access to sanitation – despite being presented with data that ran counter to his claim. “Botswana has a similar setup with Namibia… they are struggling with the same issues we are,” he said. “I don’t think that comparison is correct.”

While Botswana also struggles with poor informal settlements, sparsely populated rural areas, water scarcity and an arid w, according to the World Health Organization and UNICEF’s Joint Monitoring Programme, 80% of its citizens have access to at least basic sanitation, more than double that of Namibia.

Even at the highest levels of government, a lack of familiarity with the data is not uncommon. In Namibia’s preparatory meeting notes to the UN ahead of the 2023 water conference, the government claimed 46% of rural communities have access to “safely managed sanitation,” but Namibia’s own census mapping report, published in the same year, states less than 27% of Namibians in rural areas have such access. Calle Schlettwein, Namibia’s Minister for Water, Agriculture and Land Reform who attended the conference in New York, declined to comment on the discrepancy.

Eleven years ago, de Alberqueque said Namibia’s sanitation deficit was not a result of a lack of finances, but a “lack of a common vision,” “prioritization” and an “absence of effective coordination among the different ministries and between central and local government.” In 2023, these are still the biggest obstacles to improving sanitation. 

But where the government has fallen short in reaching its stated sanitation goals, others are now stepping in. However, urbanization and climate change are pushing back, escalating a crisis that threatens more death, disease and contamination in the next decade.

This report was produced by the Centre for Collaborative Investigative Journalism (CCIJ), a non-profit organisation that brings together investigative reporters, visual storytellers and data scientists to investigate key global issues affecting communities. This report was supported by the Pulitzer Centre.

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Frederick Clayton and Sonja Smith

Photography by Margaret Courtney-Clarke

Every day, Natalia Shaanika, 15, escorts her five younger siblings across a busy road to a landfill site to relieve themselves. As they squat – partially hidden by scraps of corrugated iron and used toilet paper – their older sister keeps watch.

When a car comes their way, Shaanika hurries them back half-naked toward their shack. Flies swarm over a bucket of water where they each wash their hands.

“We are a family of eight in a shack in a community that has no water points or toilets,” says Shaanika, who resides in Swakopmund’s Democratic Resettlement Community (DRC), one of Namibia’s largest informal settlements, where some 20,000 people live without running water or sewerage.

2019 – A toilet in Epukiro Pos-3, a.k.a. ÒThe Lost Place,Ó a bleak encampment in a hostile environment for bushmen who have been evicted from private farms in the Omaheke region of Namibia. This region is the least populous in the country and is largely known today as a place for hunting game by tourists. However, it is also the site of the 20th centuryÕs first genocide, when tens of thousands of Herero and Nama people died at the hands of German forces. Under apartheid rule, they were then removed from their land and placed into camps based on ethnicity. As of 2021, the German government has agreed to pay 1 billion euro over 30 years for projects in communities impacted by the genocide. Up until recently, these groups were excluded from the discussions of German reparations.

These conditions mean Shaanika and her siblings suffer from frequent infections and bouts of diarrhoea, along with the thousands of other men, women and children who use the same and other similar strips of wasteland as toilets in the DRC.

Their struggle is not unique. From the outskirts of cities to the most rural parts of the country, over 1 million Namibians lack adequate access to toilets, and they are often faced with only one option: open defecation.

According to the World Health Organization and UNICEF’s Joint Monitoring Programme (JMP) 2020 data, Namibia ranks sixth for the highest rates of open defecation in the world at 47%. Less than half of the country’s 2.5 million citizens use facilities that safely separate waste from human contact, while some 5% use inadequate facilities such as open pits, buckets and hanging latrines.

The nation’s severely low levels of sanitation stand in stark contrast to the rest of southern Africa, a region where Namibia ranks the worst for sanitation coverage. Its rates of open defecation are more than double Angola’s to the north and almost five times higher than that of either neighboring Botswana or Zambia.

The consequences extend far beyond foul odor. The sheer amount of human feces deposited in and around Namibian homes makes avoiding contact and even ingestion almost impossible. Excrement litters the ground in spaces between shacks where children play with dirty hands, and flies travel freely from waste to fluids and food. As feces seep into the environment, crops are contaminated alongside vital water sources used for drinking, cooking and fishing.

These conditions put Namibians, especially children, at risk of deadly fecal-oral diseases and infections that cause diarrhoea, the second biggest killer of under-fives in the country, while sanitation-related deficiencies such as malnutrition and stunted growth are also prevalent.

2022 – A typical homemade toilet in the Democratic Resettlement Camp outside of Swakopmund, Namibia.

“If we don’t change our trajectory, things are definitely going to get worse, especially in the informal settlements and in the rural areas,” said Matheus Shuuya, water, sanitation, and hygiene (WASH) specialist at UNICEF Namibia. “We will experience more children getting sick… I’m sure we will also experience frequent outbreaks of other diseases.”

Education, dignity and safety are in jeopardy, too. Girls’ inability to manage their menstrual health on school premises that lack adequate sanitation leads to increased absenteeism, while Namibians risk rape, robberies and even wildlife attacks as they are forced to seek the privacy of the bush.

Reinard Enrich, 18, was attacked at night while defecating on a landfill in Havana, an informal settlement outside of Windhoek, the nation’s capital. “The absence of toilets has made our situation unsafe,” he said. “I was minding my own business, playing music on my phone. Two men approached me – one grabbed me by my throat, and another grabbed my phone. I couldn’t do anything, so I do not go out when it’s dark anymore.”

However, Namibia has ratified the core international human rights treaties which protect the right to sanitation, while its own constitution calls for “consistent planning to raise and maintain an acceptable level of nutrition and standard of living of the Namibian people and to improve public health.”

Namibia’s 2008 Water and Sanitation Supply Policy outlines that “essential water supply and sanitation services should become available to all Namibians, and should be acceptable and accessible at a cost which is affordable to the country as a whole.” The South West Africa People’s Organization (SWAPO) Party, which has governed the country since independence in 1990, has also committed Namibia to the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goal Six (SDG6) of ensuring all of its citizens have access to clean water and sanitation by 2030.

But according to JMP data, analyzed by the Center for Collaborative Investigative Journalism (CCIJ), stagnant sanitation levels over the past decade mean Namibia is not on course to hit these targets – not even close. While over 1 million Namibians wait for this basic human right to be granted, the government appears to be taking too few steps to address a crisis that may yet worsen due to climate change and rapid urbanization.

Despite pouring billions of Namibian dollars into sanitation in recent years, the country’s 5th National Development Plan stated that the sanitation sector has suffered from “poor coordination, lack of accountability, and spreading efforts and resources too thinly.” Though the current administration has vowed to improve sanitation access and to invest in educating Namibians on the value of good hygiene, it’s still too early to assess how successful this initiative will be.

Dr. Kalumbi Shangula, Namibia’s Minister for Health and Social Services, recognized the struggles facing Namibians. He told CCIJ that low sanitation was overburdening health services and keeping Namibians out of work, but he remained optimistic that conditions would improve. “[G]radually [sanitation] will catch up… As long as there is good will and people are talking about strategies, there is hope,” he said.

But many Namibians need more than hope.

Hilma Hamalwa, 35, lives a 30-minute walk from Shaanika in the DRC. When she realized that her neighbors were suffering from the same infections and illnesses after using the bush to defecate, she dug a hole in the ground for them — and added four slabs of corrugated iron for a little privacy.

“This is not the kind of life a human being should live,” she says.

The scope of the sanitation problem

Namibia’s informal settlements are among the hardest hit by poor sanitation. According to World Habitat, 40% of Namibians live in informal settlements. And, according to the Namibian Chamber of Environment (NCE), more than half of them lack access to any toilets at all. The NCE also estimates that at least 45 tons of human feces are deposited through open defecation each day in Windhoek’s informal settlements alone.

Havana is one of the largest informal settlements, with more than 50,000 shacks that squeeze up against one another. Men, women and children find pockets of dirt to relieve themselves on their way back from church, school or the market. Tissues, sanitary pads and excrement litter the ground.

2022 – Fish caught in the contaminated Okavango River are dried and later sold on the side of the road in the Kavango West region of Namibia. The lack of employment and scarcity of basic resources in the countryÕs rural areas pushes many people to rely on often unsafe practices to survive.

Several government toilets in Havana are in disrepair, with doors hanging off their hinges and latrines clogged to the brim. For those who have access to these toilets, many choose open defecation as the lesser of two evils.

Johannes Nghidinwa, 53, sits on the deck in front of his shack with his wife, who cradles their five-month-old baby. Their home rests in the shadows of a landfill site that has become one of many open-air communal toilets in Havana. “We are a community of thousands of people, but the toilets here are very few; you can count them on your hands,” he says. “Not a week passes by without any of us getting sick with diarrhea, fever and flu.”

For many others, especially women, the risks of using the bush at night are far too high, and they must defecate inside their own homes instead. Janet Gaes, 34, lives with her four children in Windhoek’s Otjomuise 8ste Laan informal settlement, and her shack sits on a hill overlooking a dry riverbed overflowing with toilet paper. During the day she takes her children to the riverbed, but at night they share a bucket at home.

“We do not go to the riverbed when it’s dark,” she said, washing her one-year-old on the path outside. “People get assaulted there, so at night we use the bucket to relieve ourselves. Then we throw the faeces out in the morning and wash [the bucket] again to use for the following night.”

Surpassing 70%, open defecation levels are even higher in the rural areas. According to 2020 data, almost half of Namibians are sprawled throughout sparsely populated villages that dot the horizon. Residents with water struggle to keep that water clean, and those without water often turn to river and groundwater supplies contaminated with their own excrement. Even clinics and schools lack adequate sanitation.

Mukennah Scholastika is the headmistress of a public primary school in rural Kavango East in northern Namibia, where students gather under the heat of classrooms built from corrugated iron. “We have 330 students. Until last month, we had no toilets, and they had to use the bush,” she explained.

2022 – The Ngcove Junior Primary School in Ndama, an informal settlement on the outskirts of Rundu, was built by the San (bushmen) community for their children. Up until a month before, there were no toilets on site. Now, thanks to community efforts, there are two toilets for 330 children and one for the teachers. There is no water tap on the premises, and each child is expected to bring a bottle of water to class.

“Students come late for class, and they are exposed to dangers in the bush like insects and snakes. Some go home and don’t come back again. Sometimes they even defecate in their clothes. Girls will miss school, especially when they are on their period,” Scholastika added.

She asked the parents to contribute toward the construction of two toilets for the students and one for the staff, each of which were built by the community and are maintained by the teachers. Long queues form before class starts in the morning. “We have one for the boys and one for the girls,” Scholastika noted.

2022 – Waste products, including sanitary napkins and infant diapers, are constantly being burned in the middle of Havana informal settlement. Residents keep the fires burning to manage the ongoing refuse produced in the camp and often fall sick with respiratory illness as a result of the fumes.

To avoid cross-contamination or contact with excrement is extremely difficult, but keeping clean is a challenge even health professionals face in rural areas. Nurse Sem Tetera, 23, helped to deliver a baby by the side of a road in Kavango West, Namibia’s poorest region with the poorest sanitation coverage. The new mother was rushed to his clinic, a small building with no toilets that only has water when the village chief can afford it.

“It’s a struggle working here,” said Tetera. “Most of the time we have no water, and it is a huge problem for us to work without it.”

In March 2023, Namibian Prime Minister Saara Kuugongelwa-Amadhila said the government had “identified the need to improve universal access to sanitation and hygiene in informal urban settlements and rural communities.”

2014 – A handmade toilet in the Democratic Resettlement Community was built by scraps from a nearby garbage dump to serve the needs of a then-nascent community of internal migrants. Formed in 2001, the DRC was intended to be a temporary resettlement area for people seeking work in nearby Swakopmund while waiting on subsidized housing. The camp has since grown into a permanent community of tens of thousands with no formal infrastructure for electricity or sanitation.

Indeed, proper sanitation keeps water and food free from contamination, children in school and people healthy and safe from danger. But attempts to provide adequate sanitation have yet to yield significant results in Namibia.

This report was produced in collaboration with the Center for Collaborative Investigative Journalism (CCIJ), a nonprofit organization that brings together investigative reporters, visual storytellers and data scientists to investigate key global issues affecting underserved communities.  This report was supported by the Pulitzer Center

Editorial: Yaffa Fredrick, Ajibola Amzat
Data: Sotiris Sidieris, Yuxi Wang
Design and visuals: Jillian Dudziak and Scott Lewis

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This report looks at how displaced women finding refuge inside the Abagena Internally Displaced Persons Camp, (IDP) in Makurdi, Benue State survive by working on farmlands.

In 2018, Doose Aodohemba, 25 watched as her 17-month-old baby Doowese, was killed when suspected criminal herdsmen attacked Umenge, one of the villages in Guma Local Government in Benue State.

It was a day after New Year’s Day in January. While Doose and her family slept, they heard deafening gunshots and people shouting and scampering for safety.  Quickly, she grabbed one of her children and her husband picked up a few of their clothes and they ran out of their house, leaving Doowese.

“I thought my husband already carried  Doowese,” Aodohemba said.  “When we ran a distance and did not see him, we quickly came back but saw the attackers burning our house”.

A woman inside the IDP heads to the farm with Cassava Stalks (photo credit-Arinze Chijioke)

From a distance, she watched them kill her child.

In the aftermath of the January coordinated attack on Guman and Logo LG, at least 80 people were killed while several others were injured. Residents fled their ancestral homes.  The state held a mass burial for victims of the attack.

All through that night, Doose, her husband and their remaining child trekked till they got to Makurdi, the Benue State capital, where they slept and the next morning, they came to Abagena, one of the official camps for internally displaced persons in the State.

Since then, Doose- like others who fled their homes- has not gone back for fear of being attacked. She has lost everything, her child. Her farm. Her home. Whenever she remembers his death and feels devastated, her husband-Aodohemba Tyokaa- tries to console her.

She also lost her husband’s brother, Abaa Tyokaa who was staying together with them. According to her, he had hidden himself when the herdsmen attacked the community, hoping that the dust will settle the new morning so he can carry some of their property.

“Sadly, they found him and killed him, “she said.

Benue, epicentre of conflict  

The age-long conflict between farmers and Fulani herders in Nigeria is reported to be most disastrous in Benue, where the Fulani militia are said to have attacked at least 303 times since 2005, killing over 2539 people which according to the Armed Conflict Location & Event Data Project (ACLED) is nearly one-third of all the reported killings by the herdsmen in the country.

Due to frequent clashes between farmers and pastoralists, the Benue state government passed a  law banning open grazing of cattle in late 2017. The Open Grazing Prohibition and Ranches Establishment Law required livestock owners to buy land and establish ranches, prohibiting the open movement of animals within the state. It spells out punishments, including a five-year jail term or an N1 million fine for anyone whose cattle graze outside a ranch.

But rather than curb the violent attacks, the passing of the anti-open grazing law increased the wave of violent clashes in the state, including the attack on Guma and Logo which have recorded the highest number of attacks in the state.

In 2018 alone, criminal herdsmen reportedly carried out 82 attacks across the state, the highest of such violence in a single year, displacing hundreds of thousands of farmers such as Doose.

Struggle for survival

Before the attack, Doose and her husband were big-time farmers in Umenge. They had a vast expanse of land where they planted Rice, Maize and Yam.

Since 1976, Agriculture has remained the predominant occupation for the people of Benue State, with over 80 per cent of the state’s population engaged in food crop production as small-scale farmers on rich arable land spanning over 300 kilometres.

Benue is one of the major contributors to food production and security in Nigeria, with women like Doose producing 80 per cent of food in the state. But sustained crises in the state have continued to impact its agricultural sector, with the food production ratio in the state decreasing by 45 per cent.

“We always harvested over 70 bags of rice, 10 bags of Maize and over 200 tubers of yam,” she said. “We did not lack anything and always had enough to eat,”. We were a happy family”.

After the attack, everything changed. Now, she works on farmlands belonging to families living around the camp. Sometimes, she prepares heaps and ridges for planting. Sometimes, she helps in the planting and also weeds.

On a daily basis, she earns between N500 and N1000 which is hardly enough for her and her three children. Three years after the attack, she gave birth to a set of twins, In September 2021.

Women inside the camp prepare meals for their children (photo credit-Arinze Chijioke)

After their birth, work slowed down, forcing her to depend on neighbours and friends for food. But she hopes to resume and continue to work to fend for her family. She said her husband always travels in search of a job.

“I don’t have any other option than to work, “she said.

When this reporter met Doose inside the Abagena camp, she was carrying Torngu and Torkuma, her twin sons. As one of them suckles her breast, she feeds the other with a meal she had received from one of her neighbours.

She is one of several women who have been displaced from their homes and are having to work on farms to earn a living. While some of them go in search of farms to work on, others search for lands where they can cultivate their own crops and sell after which they share the proceeds with the landowners. The food provided by the camp authority is hardly enough.

Money earned is hardly enough

As each day breaks inside the Abagena IDP camp, Uverashe Dena, 30 only thinks of how to feed her children. She routinely travels from the camp in Makurdi to other locations in search of farms to work on. Like Aodohemba,  she earns between N500 and N1000.

Her husband farms too. But the money they both earn is hardly enough to feed the children- seven of them.

Four years ago, the family had enough to eat and sell.

Dena says money earned is hardly enough to feed her children (photo credit-Arinze Chijioke)

They had 1500 heaps of yam and over 100 ridges where they planted corn and other crops. But the narrative changed after Dena and her family fled their home in Torkula one of the villages in Guma local government after it was attacked by criminal herdsmen in late January 2018.

“We started hearing gunshots as we were about to retire to bed, “she said. The criminal herdsmen had made their way into our village and started shooting sporadically and destroying property”.

While no casualty was recorded, Dena said several houses were completely razed by the criminals who also carted away foodstuffs. She and her family escaped without anything, except the clothes they had on them. All they had was burnt- their house. Their farm. Their crops.

“All through the night, we trekked through bushes and pathways and when we got to Makurdi the state capital, we found the camp and slept,” We have been here since then”.

Whenever she does not get a job to do, she borrows food from other women inside the camp at Abagena and gives them back when she gets money and buys foodstuffs.  Sometimes, she goes hungry to let her children eat.

From farm to IDP camp

Christiana Sharbee came to the Abagena IDP camp in January 2018 after her community, Asangaba in Guma was attacked by herdsmen. She and her husband and children were on their farm when they suddenly started hearing gunshots.

Quickly, they ended work and on their way back home, they saw people running and they ran with their children.

“I lost one of my brothers-in-law, Utaghe Sharbee,” she said. “He stayed back after we left, thinking that the herdsmen will not come and that he will pack some of our clothes the next day and bring them to us. “As he was packing some clothes, they attacked and killed him at night”.

Sharbee escaped to the IDP from her farm (photo credit-Arinze Chijioke)

She said Utaghe was helpful to the family before he was killed.

“Whenever we did not have food to eat, he always provided, I feel pained each time I remember that he is not here”.

Before the attack, Christiana’s husband, Stephen used to cut down trees for a living in addition to their farm work. He earned as much as 30,000 after each job. They lived well.

To survive and cater for her family, she searches for farms within the Abagena IDP camp where she escaped after the attack.

Work not always available

Although women inside the Abagena IDP camp survive by working on farms, Msulshima Kwaghtser, 35 said that it is not always easy to find places to work.

“Sometimes, I go a whole week without finding people to work for,” she said. “There are many of us inside the camp who want to work and earn money. Sometimes, we have to travel outside the state in search of jobs”.

Like other women, farming was all that Msulshima Kwaghtser, 35 and her family had to do. In 2018, when herdsmen struck her community in Guma LGA, she was on her farm.

Kwaghtser prepares a meal for her children (photo credit-Arinze Chijioke)

As soon as they heard gunshots, she and her family ran, leaving everything behind. Their home, their farm and their property. They burnt her house and everything inside it.

“We trekked for two days before we got to the Abagena camp,” Since then, life has been difficult for us,”.  My husband travelled to Nasarawa state to get land he can farm on and earn money,”.

With what money she earns, Kwaghtser goes to the market and buys Corn and makes soup for her seven children. This has become almost like a staple food for her and the children. Sometimes, she says they starve.

Way out?

Emmanuel Chiwetalu, a PhD student at Edinburgh University Divinity School said that finding a lasting solution for the decades of conflicts in Benue State would require efforts by community leaders and individuals across affected communities.

“The ordinary farmers have only little to do about these killings, “he said. “The councillors and local government chairmen, the communal leaders and the state government officials must do more to help”.

He also said that although the federal government and national security agencies can help to manage the situation, the local leaders must recognise the immense power they have to prevent the lingering conflict.

According to him, qualitative research on communal conflict in Nigeria has shown that local leaders have collaborated in different parts of the country to consider potential sources of conflict between groups and successfully prevented violence in their community

“This kind of local peace work is part of the means through which peace and progress can be restored in Benue communities, he said. “Having a peaceful farmer-herder arrangement will also require the rejection of some of the suspicions and stereotypes that harm their relationship”.

 

 

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Coal was first discovered in Nigeria in 1909 at Udi in Enugu, south-eastern Nigeria. The country’s first coal mine, the Ogbete mine, opened six years later. The Nigerian Coal Corporation (NCC) was formed in 1950, taking on operations of Ogbete and other major coal mines across the country. 

Coal was one of Nigeria’s primary exports for much of the 20th century. However, significant changes in the Nigerian energy market increased the utilization of petroleum as a fuel source. Further disruption to the coal industry due to the outbreak of the Nigerian Civil War in 1967 and the Nigerian Enterprise Promotion Decree in 1972, which sought to transfer business ownership to Nigerians, contributed to significant declines in foreign investment and many foreign mining companies left the country. 

The Nigerian Coal Corporation eventually went bankrupt in 2002, leaving many of its mines abandoned without proper closure. The country has considerable remaining coal reserves. Production has dwindled over the past 20 years, hitting a record low of 40,000 metric tonnes in 2012. Olajide Adelana reports.

Abandoned coal mines: Enugu’s charred past hurting its present

Enugu – A once-forested valley sits silent as a graveyard. The scars left by heavy machinery on the swaths of forest are still evident, with chunks of coal waste littering the ground. Once seething like a beehive, the now abandoned Onyeama Coal Mine in the southeastern Nigerian city of Enugu, has become a shadow of itself.  The coal mine is one of Nigeria’s derelict coal fields which was closed in 2002 when the Nigerian Coal Corporation went bankrupt. Now the area is mostly farmland.

But the land is not fertile.

Sunday Okeke, a farmer, walks along one of the narrow paths into the mine looking very upset.  The maize he planted sprouted into healthy green stalks, and there was hope for a moment –until the stalks started wilting. Unemployed and with dim prospects of getting a job, Okeke and some residents of Onyeama, who once worked in the mine resorted to farming to feed their families. This decision was their undoing as they rarely make a profit. 

“The land is not very fertile. I only plant vegetables and some crops that are not deep-rooted, because they do not require as much nutrients and fertilizers,” he says. “I tried planting maize and I am disappointed at the outcome.” 

Many farmers in the areas are unaware that mining activities in their community years ago removed the topsoil, which contains much of the moisture and nutrients that crops need. They end up spending money on fertilizers, which reduces their profit. The Onyeama mine also polluted the water used for farming and household use. Bright-orange runoff from tunnels at the abandoned mine drains into local water sources. 

Communities across Nigeria face danger and pollution from abandoned mines

As of 2017, Nigeria had an estimated 1,200 identified abandoned mining sites—sites where mining activities ceased without proper closure or reclamation and continue to degrade the environment and pose physical dangers in the form of weakened and collapsing mine shafts, sinkholes, and water-filled pits.

The 2007 Nigerian Minerals and Mining Act, requires “progressive reclamation” – reclamation activities carried out simultaneously with mining operations – in newly approved industrial mining projects. The act also calls for mining companies to establish a reserve fund for environmental protection, mine rehabilitation, reclamation, and closure costs.  Although most of the now-abandoned mines in Nigeria, including in Enugu, predate the 2007 legislation, there have been few material changes in practice since the act was passed.

Section 30 of the Act stressed that, “a tax deductible reserve for environmental protection, mine rehabilitation, reclamation and mine closure costs shall be established by companies engaged in the exploitation of mineral resources.”

Reclamation includes filling depressions or hollows with soil or rock removed during excavation and planting trees to stabilize and restore the mined area. Best practices also include repairing wildlife habitats; removing office buildings, processing facilities, and transportation equipment; and sealing mine shafts and other openings. 

In Akwuke community, Enugu South Local Government Area (LGA), Enugu state, close to Okpara Mine, there is a complete collapse of mining infrastructure years after mining activities had taken place. The mining site was abandoned by the operators without efforts to address impacts on the community, residents alleged.

“Except for those who were employed when the coal mine was still active, there is no tangible benefit our community has gained from mining,” says youth community leader Sunday Nsude, pointing to an untarred road that has deteriorated due to flooding and poor maintenance.

Simon Ude, a resident, who worked as a security guard at the mine from 1996 and 2006, says he was laid off after the mine closed and given no severance pay. 

“I was not compensated and I am not the only one. I have a friend whose years of service was just 9 years and 9 months and he was also laid off without pay.”  Nigerian labour laws require compensation for laid-off employees based on the length of their employment. 

“I had to restart my life from scratch. I started a firewood business, but the income is insufficient to take care of my family’s needs,” Ude says with a tinge of regret

Since the Onyeama, Iva Valley, Ribadu, Okpara and Ogbete Mines (all located in Enugu) were abandoned, locals have had to contend with varying degrees of environmental and physical hazards. 

Mike Achio, who once worked in the Onyeama Coal Mine and now heads a community-led security team, says that the abandoned mine is now a hideout for criminals. 

“We regularly contend with criminal elements who have mastered the art of coming into the community to inflict pain on residents and escape through the abandoned mine,” he says. “Recently, we arrested some people at night peddling hard drugs, including cocaine and heroin, in the community.”

Achio, pointed out that respiratory diseases —including coal workers’ pneumoconiosis, commonly known as black lung disease —are also common among miners, due to long-term exposure to airborne coal dust.

 “Although I am lucky and have no issues with my health, many of my colleagues are not,” says Achio. “They are battling with different health problems such as chest pains and breathing problems. The majority of them were left to bear the consequences of long years of working at the mine without any help.”

Dr Onwubere Basden Jones, a medical expert specialising in cardiovascular and congestive heart diseases, says that elderly people in mining communities are likely to have co-morbidities associated with mining. 

“Years back when mining was still actively going on in these communities, there was an upsurge in the number of patients seeking medical attention for different diseases, including respiratory diseases,” he says. 

A city on the verge of collapse

Communities along the mining corridors in Enugu are also facing a range of environmental challenges, including flooding and landslides and significant erosion. Residents of Enugu-Ngwo, Amuzam, Agbaja Ngwo, and Nsude said that houses and properties have been washed away by gully erosion caused by heavy rains and landslides.

Despite these challenges, little research has been conducted on the impact of these abandoned mines on the environment. 

“A lot of people do not know the extent of the damage mining did to Enugu,” says Chinedu Nwafor, executive director of the Africa for Africa Initiative. He adds a warning about the state’s capital city of Enugu: The city is sitting on a ticking time bomb. If nothing is done, Enugu might collapse. “I don’t know why the government is yet to see this as an emergency.”

In particular, the network of underground mining tunnels in Enugu is poorly mapped so no one knows their full extent or how it may be exacerbating flooding and erosion issues. The local media have reported that the area is at risk of cave-ins. “Sometimes in the city you will notice a lot of earth movements and the land will collapse inward. This shows that that place is empty below,” says Nwafor.

Local sources including former miners estimate that the underground tunnels from Onyeama and Ribadu mines lead to Nsude (18 miles) and Abor (12 miles) respectively.

Lack of government action 

State and federal officials have paid some lip service to the impacts of abandoned mines on human health and the environment but have made little effort to address them. Ayodeji Adeyemi, a special adviser to the minister of mines and steel development, did not respond to requests for comment, despite promising on several occasions to forward queries to the appropriate desk and provide a response.

Senator Ike Ekweremadu, the chairman of the Senate Committee on Environment and one of the three senators representing Enugu State in the National Assembly did not respond to multiple emails. His assistant, Mr Uche Anuchukwu, acknowledged receipt of the inquiries made but did not reply.

Enugu state’s Environment and Mineral Resources commissioner, Mr Chijioke Edeoga denied knowledge of any challenges posed by abandoned mines in his state. He maintains that his office has never received an official complaint about the matter. 

“I am not aware. There is no official complaint from these communities to my office. “The state government cannot be blamed, as the mining sector is under the federal government. They (federal government) should be the one to put things in order.” 

 

Abandoned mining pits on farmland near a stream in the Sabon Barki area of Plateau State

The federal government is undertaking some interventions to mitigate the impacts of abandoned mines in Enugu State as part of the Nigeria Erosion and Watershed Management Project (NEWMAP), but experts say that an expansive and thorough environmental audit needs to be conducted across the entire mining corridor in Enugu to inform strategies for long-term, sustainable solutions. 

“Any palliative or reclamation done without a comprehensive environmental audit to ascertain the level of devastation and the funding required to remedy it is unlikely to be a sustainable solution,” says Nwafor. “It is superficial and amounts to poor utilization of funds.”

Residents consider the government’s efforts to be merely cosmetic. A resident of Enugu- Ngwo, who identified himself as Chinedu acknowledged the efforts but said more funding and commitment are needed given the number of affected sites. 

Nigeria’s Small-Scale Mines Leaves A Legacy Of Ruin In Ebonyi, Enugu, Plateau, Nasarawa, Others

Nigeria also has many artisanal and small-scale mines that provide a livelihood for thousands of people, most of them mining gold, gemstones, and cassiterite (a tin oxide mineral). This segment of the extractives industry employs an estimated 400,000 and 500,000 people and currently accounts for more than 90% of solid mineral extraction in the country.

However, this activity is poorly regulated by the government. Most miners operate outside the formal regulatory regime, without licenses or permits.  As a result, communities suffer from environmental degradation and negative health consequences. These mining sites are rarely properly closed or remediated, creating hazards for communities long after miners have moved on. 

In Ebonyi state, the landscape is punctuated with pockets of abandoned mining pits. Two kids while away time in one of them near the town of Ihotor-Ameka, singing as they run in circles and then collapse on a heap on the muddy soil, giggling.

Okeh Gloria, a resident, recalls the day in 2019 when her third child, 2-year-old Sylvanus, was in pain and fighting for his life. His eyes had rolled back in his head, his mouth closed. His muscles tightened and he struggled to breathe. Gloria and her husband were distraught.

Jittery, Gloria squeezed his jaws open and poured palm oil down his throat. She had seen many others in the community use this remedy and thought it might help. But Sylvanus’s condition only worsened. 

“I cried and prayed when I saw him convulsing. I could not believe what I was seeing,” says Gloria. Sylvanus was later rushed to hospital, where he stayed for six days before he regained consciousness and began his journey to recovery. The family had to pay N50,000 for his treatment.

The couple suspected heavy metal poisoning as the cause of their child’s sickness. Ihotor-Ameka has huge deposits of minerals, notably lead and zinc, and is littered with mining pits from both abandoned and active artisanal and small-scale mines. 

When the pits are flooded after heavy rains, the miners pump the water into the surrounding environment, including rivers and streams. The risk of water and soil pollution with heavy metals is high. 

“Although we could not explain it, we knew the reason for his ailment cannot be dissociated from our environment,” Gloria says. Several weeks after her son became sick, other residents began to show similar symptoms. 

“My neighbour’s son was sick and convulsing,” she says. “Two days later, he died. He was only 3 years old.”  

Water samples collected from the area and tested at the Institute for Agricultural Research, Zaria and the National Research Institute for Chemical Technology (NARICT) had a lead (Pb) concentration of nearly 408 parts per million (ppm); for reference, a U.S Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) rule requires systems to monitor drinking water if lead concentrations exceed 0.015ppm. 

Heavy metals can harm the body even in small doses. Lead exposure can be especially dangerous for children, causing damage to the brain and nervous system, stunted growth and development, behavioural and learning challenges, and hearing and speech problems. Seizures and convulsions are among the more severe neurological symptoms associated with lead overexposure. 

Diagnostic capacity is a challenge in Nigeria, including testing for heavy metal poisoning. People come down with strange illnesses that often are left undiagnosed, even after evaluations by experienced physicians. 

But this is not news. In 2010, the World Health Organization (WHO) reported a high incidence of convulsions and death in young children due to lead poisoning in five mining villages in Zamfara State. The number of children affected continues to grow

Many blame the informal and unregulated activities of artisanal and small-scale miners (ASM) who make up 85 per cent of miners in Nigeria’s extractive industry according to the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS). Artisanal and small-scale mining differs from medium and large-scale mining. There is limited available information on production, revenues, operations, and location of their activities.

“The havoc that these artisanal and small-scale miners cause is often overlooked because they don’t necessarily carry heavy machinery to the site,” says David Bade, a farmer whose land is threatened by abandoned mining pits in Yelwa community, Kokona LGA, Nasarawa State.

“They came in droves, took over our farmlands and started digging for tourmaline, a gemstone,” he adds. “Several months later, they vacated the site and moved elsewhere.”

Bade says he has noticed a sharp decrease in his harvest because his farmland is no longer fertile. As lead deposits are common in the area, it is also possible that the miners may have kicked up lead-contaminated soil and dust in their search for gemstones. 

“Before, I used to harvest up to 300 bags of maize; now I rarely get up to half of that. I have also been attacked by snakes and other reptiles that hide in the holes. I have lost two of my dogs to snake attacks.”

This is not unexpected, says Ibrahim Yahaya, an official of Nasarawa State Ministry of Environment and Natural Resources. “Mining can severely alter the soil and reduce its fertility. When miners dig into the earth for these minerals, they inadvertently dump the excavated materials on the topsoil. This is called over-burden and it makes it more difficult for crops to access nutrients,” he says.

Soil samples collected from Bade’s farmland and tested at the Institute for Agricultural Research and the National Research Institute for Chemical Technology showed levels of metals that are poisonous to plants, including 1,350 ppm of copper. According to the U.S. EPA, normal soil has a copper content of 1 to 200 ppm. The concentration of zinc in the soil was 2,090 ppm, also much higher than normal levels. The concentration of lead was 1,560 ppm; the EPA recommends avoiding growing vegetables in soil with lead concentrations of more than 400 ppm.

How large companies enable informal mining 

Artisanal and small-scale miners operate as part of a broader mining ecosystem in Nigeria. With limited access to capital, they are often financed by sponsoring companies that take a large cut of their profits. The sponsors have mastered the art of profiteering from Nigeria’s weak mining regulations and enforcement. In the states visited, the number of artisanal and small-scale miners continues to grow due to the availability of a ready buyer.  

Some larger mining companies have reportedly given artisanal miners access to concessions that they are not actively mining. A Nigerian Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative (NEITI) audit report covering activities in the extractive sector from 2007 to 2010 found that only 30 per cent of the companies holding mining titles were engaged in active quarrying, mining, and exploration.  

In Ebonyi State, most big mining companies with or without licenses grant access to their mining site to artisanal miners, often members of the local community. The company pays a negotiated fee to the landowner and local authorities but retains exclusive rights to the mined commodity. One source noted that many of these companies are Chinese. 

“They send scouts to the community to negotiate with individual landowners who believe they have mineral resources underneath their properties. Afterwards, they agree on fees to be paid to the landowner and local authorities in the area, often the traditional heads,” says Chikezie, a miner in Ameka.

The government has signalled intentions to formalize the sector, improve revenue collection, and increase the contribution of solid minerals to the country’s gross domestic product (GDP). But progress has been slow and uneven, complicated by a lack of geological information and limited government capacity. Mine closure and remediation do not appear to have featured heavily in discussions about formalization. 

One small-scale granite miner in Umuogharu, Ezza North Local Government Area of Ebonyi State, who declined to give her name for security reasons, said the state government is aware of their informal mining activities.

“We pay the necessary levies and go about our activities,” she says, adding that discussions on abandoned mines and proper mining site closure were rare in their interactions with the state government.

In Wamba community, Nasarawa State, large mining corporations and the locals agreed on a sharing formula for the proceeds from mining activities.

One of the locals, Kasim Usman said, “When they (mining company) came in 2019, we agreed that a certain percentage of the mineral resources mined would be given to the community. One-third is paid to the local government as royalty, one-third is paid to the owner of the land owner where the resources were mined, and one-third is paid to the community.”

Neither the mining companies nor the artisanal miners take responsibility for the proper closure and reclamation of mining sites. They simply move on to another location.  The exploitative behaviour of these large-scale companies is often the root cause of community corruption and violence, and it results in a massive loss of revenue to the government. In turn, poor revenue from the sector makes budgetary allocations and funding for the reclamation of abandoned mines difficult for the government.

Lives lost, livelihoods affected in Plateau, Nasarawa, others

In Plateau state, years of complaints by mining communities about the wreckage caused by abandoned mining pits have fallen on deaf ears. Belied by its beautiful scenery, abandoned mining pits in Jos city are now potential death traps for residents of the area.

Tin was discovered in Jos plateau at the turn of the 20th century and colonial mining began soon thereafter. These tin mines were largely abandoned following the 1972 nationalization policy, which broke the monopoly of foreign interests, particularly of British firms. Decades later, tin mining communities are still struggling with the negative effects of mining on human health and the environment. 

Today, informal artisanal and small-scale miners operating on meagre profit margins work in these abandoned mines. This carries a unique set of risks and dangers. 

In December 2019, an inactive mining pit in Zawan community, Jos South LGA, collapsed, killing six people who were illegally prospecting for tin and other minerals. Eyewitnesses said that more than 50 people were in the pit before it collapsed. 

In Sabon-Barki, Jos South LGA, residents are fearful when it rains because of how abandoned mining sites channel floodwaters. In April 2021, a 4-year-old girl was swept away after a heavy downpour.

“She was returning from school alongside her brother when the flood carried her from Dadin Kowa to Muchogopyeng,” says Belinda Yusuf, a resident of the area.

In Keffi, Nasarawa state, the Five-Star Mining Company allegedly vacated its mining project without reclamation after an outcry by residents of the area over the incessant blasting of rocks. The abandoned site sits behind Keffi Secondary School.

“Each time they blasted the rocks, strong vibrations reverberated throughout the entire area,” says resident, Garakuwa Zubairu. “Our buildings began to crack from the foundation.” 

He said residents complained to the company and asked them to reduce the blasting activity but to no avail. The company maintained that it was licensed by the federal government to carry out its activities. They brought their complaints to state government authorities, who inspected the site and directed the company to stop work. The company then vacated the site without doing reclamation work. 

Abandoned silver mining pits in Keffi area of Nasarawa State

Checks at the Corporate Affairs Commission (CAC), showed that the company is inactive and was incorporated on January 6, 1993.  The company is headquartered in Calabar with Janet Okok, Effiong Effiong, George Effiong, and Nkoyo Effiong on the board of directors. 

Slow progress on reclamation

Government remediation efforts date back to 1955 when the federal government reclaimed abandoned mining sites managed by Northern Regional Government at the time. The reclamation of several other abandoned sites followed in 1980. 

In 2017, the Ministry of Mines and Steel Development (MMSD), which oversees the solid minerals subsector in Nigeria, said it would spend N1.67tr to reclaim more than 1,600 abandoned mine sites across the country. 

A total of 32 mining sites were reclaimed between 2007 and 2019 for N2.39 billion naira or about N75 million per mine – less than the amount originally projected.  (In 2014, a ministry official named Salim Adebgoyega,  had put the reclamation cost per abandoned mine at N80m to N100m, depending on the size of the site.*

Progress has been much slower than expected. The ministry initially projected that 100 sites would be reclaimed annually between 2007 and 2020. An inventory of abandoned mines and quarries commissioned by the ministry in 2017 to evaluate the environmental and social risks associated with past mining activities is yet to be released officially. The Environmental Protection and Rehabilitation Fund (EPRF) called for in the 2007 Nigeria Mining Act is not fully operational.

The ministry did not respond to a Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) request submitted on September 29, 2021, asking for specific details about progress on mine remediation and closure – including a list of all abandoned mining sites identified by the ministry, reclaimed abandoned mining sites, the cost of the reclamation of the sites, and the status of the EPRF. The ministry acknowledged receipt of the request and asked for ample time to compile the required information, adding that the process of revalidating abandoned mines and quarries was ongoing.

The federal government has allocated significant funds to the reclamation of abandoned mines but has achieved little in terms of value for money. Analysis of the ministry’s budget showed that at least N2.43bn was spent on activities related to reclamation between 2015 and 2020. A further breakdown revealed that N1.90bn was budgeted for the actual reclamation of an unspecified number of abandoned mines during the same period. In 2018 and 2019, the government spent N78.3m on revalidating abandoned mining sites nationwide and a whooping N463m on logistics support for a special mines’ surveillance task force in 2020.

One of the reclaimed sites in Barkin Ladi area of Plateau state is still prone to flooding and ecological problems years after the purported reclamation in 2017. Residents who spoke with this newspaper were critical of the work done.

“We cannot farm on these sites. The land is not fertile. No bioremediation was carried out,” says Dafum Chung, a resident. “They just came to sand-fill the site and went away. Although the gully erosion subsided, the problem of flooding is still persistent.” 

He adds: “I used to farm close to my house until flooding and erosion caused by mining destroyed my farmland. Although I have relocated to another area to continue my farming, my friends who still farm there are always complaining of poor harvest.”

The Ministry of Mines and Steel Development acknowledged receipt of a FOIA request for procurement records, including budgetary allocations and lists of contractors engaged but the request was not fulfilled by publication time.

Can communities sue?

Nigeria has a federal system of governance but states have limited power. Mining is on the exclusive legislation list – a list of issues over which the federal government has exclusive legislative powers. This means states cannot advance their legislation governing mining-related issues, including mine closure. State governments cannot enforce federal legislation.   

“You really cannot blame the state governments,” says Abiodun Baiyewu, Nigeria’s country director at Global Rights. “The federal government is quick to remind you that the benefits of the minerals primarily belong to the commonwealth at the federal level. It was not until 2017 that benefits started to trickle down to the local communities. Even so, the benefits have been negligible because the government still earns so little from solid minerals due to massive haemorrhages in revenue.”

However, one potential avenue for states to regulate their mining sectors remains unexplored. Section 19 of the Mineral and Mining Act of 2007 provides for a state-level governance apparatus for mining, known as Mineral Resources and Environmental Committee (MIREMCO). To date, this apparatus is yet to be fully explored. 

Communities that have been negatively impacted by abandoned mines have limited avenues for recourse, including through national legal systems. Chinedu Bassey, a program manager at the Civil Society Legislative Advocacy Centre, argues that several international human rights instruments to which Nigeria is a signatory are yet to be properly legislated in the country. These include the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights (UNGPs). Ten years after endorsing them, Nigeria is yet to develop a national action plan to implement the principles, which allow aggrieved communities to seek redress in court. 

Hamzat Lawal, chief executive of Connected Development (CODE), a nongovernmental organization that works to empower marginalized communities in Nigeria, says the real question is whether the Nigerian justice system is reliable. “If we’re being realistic, these communities do not have the resources to pursue a case against the government, and while that reflects the weakness of our judicial institution, it also shows the extent of the failure of leadership in the country,” he says. 

Regardless of the challenges, human rights lawyer and activist Inibehe Effiong believes that mining communities can sue the government or businesses if they can provide evidence and proof beyond a reasonable doubt of their culpability.

Effiong is right. There are quite a few justiciable clauses to rely upon. Beyond the Mineral and Mining Act of 2007, Section 17 (2d) of Nigeria’s constitution states that a community’s natural resources must not be exploited except for the good of the community. 

A tin miner at an artisanal mine in the Wamba area of Nasarawa State

Some international avenues are also available, particularly if a multinational mining company has violated the rights of communities through inadequate mine closure. For instance, communities could file a grievance with the National Contact Points (NCPs) that are responsible for business conduct in the company’s home country or they could request a UN Special Rapporteur investigation. 

These avenues are rarely explored, however, due to a lack of information and low literacy levels among residents of these communities.  Communities can only seek redress if they are aware of their rights and are empowered with the information, they need to demand justice, accountability and transparency from government entities and other stakeholders in the extractive industries.

For this to happen, knowledge and participatory dialogue platforms are important, says Baiyewu.

 “Let’s start with providing a basic knowledge of what mining entails, the likely impacts, and the rights of mining host communities,” she says. “Mining host communities need to access information on how to air their grievances, and ensure ease of access to the relevant agencies of government.”

Lawal has a similar view. Rather than sue the government, he says, leaders of mining communities would do better to learn how to engage the government as partners.

“It’s the first step in the right direction, and it disarms a government that is quick to defend itself against its own citizens.”

This report was supported by Result for Development (R4D) under its Leveraging Transparency to Reduce Corruption (LTRC) project. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Olajide Adelana is an investigative writer and editor who is passionate about advancing accountability and transparency in the service of social justice. He recently served as a field communications officer for the United Nations Office for Project Services, where he focused on water supply and sanitation issues.

All Photos are by Nelson Owoicho.

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A once booming venture, Nigeria’s coal industry has been stripped of life and laid bare with its potential for wealth creation greatly diminished. A cursory observation reveals thousands of job losses caused by a failed  privatization scheme that has left everything in tatters and made nonsense of the nation’s mouthed diversification plans. Investigative reporter, PATRICK EGWU, visited the Enugu coal mines, which is now a shadow of its old self.

 

On a sweltering Tuesday afternoon, Ray Chime sits at the balcony of his home located at Colliery Avenue in Enugu. Colliery Avenue is the residential quarters for coal miners working at coal fields in the state.

Chime was the former Colliery manager of the Nigerian Coal Corporation [NCC]. When he started working with the NCC in January 1972, it was a booming industry which served as a major source of foreign exchange for the country with coal being exported to the UK, South Africa, Egypt and Ghana.

“The coal industry is now moribund and all efforts to revive it have failed,” Chime tells Ripples Nigeria. “There was politics in it,” he says. “I am sure that if the coal corporations were situated in the north, the federal government won’t allow it to die like this.

The government is not interested in trying to get it resuscitated and the machines need to be constantly revived.”

For Chime, the once booming industry has become a shadow of itself following the privatization policy of the federal government in 1999.

With the privatization taking full force, workers were retrenched, the NCC properties were sold off and a deal that killed the fortunes of the industry was sealed.

The good-old beginnings

Aerial view of the deserted Onyeama mine field in Enugu. The mines tunnels are located few kilometres away. Photo by Patrick Egwu

Before the discovery of crude oil, coal was once treasured as a jewel, powering the national and regional economies in the country. Presently, experts are worried that an all-important money-earner like coal could be so abandoned. This is considering that coal is still a money-spinner and keeps industries running in other economies of the world. Coal-powered stations reportedly generate about 40 percent of the world’s electricity.

Much of the materials used in making steel, coke, is derived from coal. The beauty industry also finds coal extremely useful in producing such items as shampoo and dandruff-fighting creams or powders. Fertilisers are by-products as well. Even concrete is derived from coal.

Coal was discovered in Enugu in 1908 by a team of British geological explorers led by Albert Kitson, but actual mining did not start until 1916, a year after the then British colonial government and several Udi warrant chiefs led by Onyeama of Eke signed an agreement for its exploitation.

However, with the discovery of oil in 1956 in Oloibiri, Bayelsa State in commercial quantity, the coal industry started dying off gradually. According to the Enugu State Tourism Board [ESTB], up until this point, the Nigeria Railway Corporation [NRC] was the largest consumer of coal in the country, but with the discovery of oil, the NRC began to replace its coal burning trains with diesel-powered engines.

Another negative impact on the industry was when the then Electricity Corporation of Nigeria began converting its power generation equipment from coal to diesel and gas.

Further chronicling the challenges of the industry, the Board notes that “the Nigerian Civil War negatively impacted coal production; many mines were abandoned during the war. Following the war, production never completely recovered and coal production levels were erratic. Attempts at mechanizing production ended badly, as both the implementation and maintenance of imported mining equipment proved troublesome, and affected production. After the civil war, the Nigerian coal industry has not been able to return to its peak production of the 1950s.”

Nevertheless, Nigeria still holds large coal reserves, estimated at about 2 billion metric tonnes which is said to be low in sulphur content and in high demand in international markets. Experts are therefore worried over the poor state of the industry which they say if properly harnessed, will not only restore the nation’s long years of epileptic power supply, but also contribute to the nation’s forex earnings and employment generation.

The Kopex and Bul-Nig take-over agreements

Ohagwu, the former Colliery manager of the Nigerian Coal Corporation (NCC). Photo by Patrick Egwu

In an attempt to revamp the industry, the Nigerian government signed an agreement with Kopex, a Polish company based in Warsaw to take over mining and boost productions with the NCC playing supervisory roles. Efforts to retrieve the documents of the agreement was not successful. However, what many Nigerians hoped would be the best deal to revive the industry, became unsuccessful after a few years.

“They came around 1977 but they couldn’t do much because their activities weren’t reliable,” Hyacinth Ohagwu, a former engineering manager at the industry said. “For instance, they brought in obsolete equipment when new ones were paid for.”

“Kopex left because their system of mining and ours was different, hence, the privatization didn’t work for them,” Ohagwu said.

After Kopex left and couldn’t continue coal exploration, some foreign companies were consulted to run and manage the industry as a way of making it work optimally again. The first country that won the bid to revive the industry was a company from Bulgaria. The agreement was later known as “Bul-Nig” to reflect the name of the two countries. According to the agreement, when produced, the company was expected to take 40 percent of the gains while the NCC takes 60 percent.

“They bided and the agreement then was that if the coal is produced in Nigeria, it would be exported to Poland, Ghana, Egypt and South Africa among others. They competed with other companies and won the bidding,” Chime said of the agreements. “They even sent some of us abroad to learn their mining practices.”

In 2002, in what appeared to be the last efforts of the President Olusegun Obasanjo’s administration to revive the industry, Nigeria and South Africa signed an agreement for the development of the coal industry in Nigeria by exploring specifically, the Onyeama, Okpara and Owukpa coal mines. However, mining development didn’t commence as was promised and little is known of the outcome of the deal today.

Privatization that finally terminated the industry

What looked like a ray of hope came for the coal industry in 1999 when former President Obasanjo initiated plans to privatize it, alongside other national assets. With the development, the NCC lost its monopoly over the Nigerian coal industry, as the government allowed private companies to begin operating coal fields in joint ventures with the NCC, with an eventual goal of completely selling off the NCC’s assets to private investors. The government planned to sell 40 percent to private investors and 20 percent to the Nigerian public while retaining 40 percent.

According to ESTB, in 2003, the federal government announced plans to create a technical advisory committee that would be tasked with reviving the industry. However, by 2004, the technical committee had not issued their report and the NCC found itself almost bankrupt. To raise funds, it began selling off some of its assets to pay off mounting debts, including salaries owed its staff.

The Enugu state government under former governor Chimaroke Nnamani, had protested the planned privatization and demanded for consultation with the federal government on any planned sale.

Having lost the mining fields to private investors, the Enugu State Government under former governor Sullivan Chime succeeded in taking over two properties of the NCC purchased from the Bureau of Public Enterprise [BPE] under the federal government’s privatization of its landed properties. The two properties are the headquarters of the Corporation located along Okpara Avenue and the Colliery hospital also in Enugu.

At the handover ceremony, the then Director-General of BPE, Benjamin Ezra Dikki had stated that the privatization of the Corporation which started in 2007 was aimed at handing over the coal blocks to credible investors that would invest money and expertise to mine the coal blocks to create jobs and boost the economy of the state and Nigeria at large. It is yet to be seen how those goals have been achieved, as companies with mining licenses are yet to begin coal exploration.

Unfortunately, the headquarters of the NCC in the state has also been sold off to a private investor by the state government. When this reporter visited the premises, the signage of a company contracted to construct a perimeter fencing around the premises was seen at the entrance gate. An attempt to enter the premises was blocked by a security man at the gate. But the miners want it back.

Former NCC headquarters now sold to a supposed private investor

“The place has been sold by government and non-government groups,” Ohagwu, said. “We have repeatedly made our feelings known that we want that structure back even if every other thing is sold. Because it is a very costly monument for the nation and not only the state. The industry played a very important role in Nigeria’s independence and if not anything, can serve as a museum for the young generation.”

“People thought the privatization would revive the industry,” Ohagwu who voluntarily left the industry before the privatization said. “They are yet to complete the payoff for workers.”

Failed promises

Over the years, the people of Enugu state had hoped for the revival of the once-booming coal mining activities in the state which they believe would provide electricity to the region, power industries and provide direct employment. However, successive administrations have come and gone without as much as a passing glance at the mine.

Hope appeared to have been reignited last year when the Minister of State, Mines and Steel Development, Uchechukwu Ogah visited the state and revealed the federal government’s plans to revamp the moribund industry.

Ogah said his team was on a fact-finding mission with regards to “what is already on ground, what the Federal Government has done and what we can do to revive the coal mines in Enugu State so that they can help grow the economy and generate jobs.”

Earlier in 2015, President Muhammadu Buhari had during his election campaign, pledged to revive the coal industry. Buhari had promised that the abundant coal deposits in Enugu would be harnessed to grow the Nigerian economy, and also generate employment opportunities for youths in the South East and other parts of the country. Specifically, he said that coal deposits would be used to revamp the Oji River Power Station which generated electricity for the defunct Eastern Region and has the capacity of generating the nation’s 30 percent energy needs.

But nearly five years after, nothing has been heard of that promise.

In 2016, a group under the aegis of Buhari Support Organization [BSO] once again, drew attention to the condition of the mine by including it in their list of demands for the president to address alongside projects planned for other geopolitical zones with the $30 billion loan being sought from multinational institutions.

Ex-workers’ continued protests 

Former workers of the Corporation are wondering the type of privatization carried out in Nigeria’s premier solid mineral industry that has completely deflated the industry. As far as the ex-staff are concerned, what took place was outright devastation of equipment and properties of the industry, with no intention to revitalize the Corporation as was the original philosophy of the federal government’s privatization policy.

According to them, it is pathetic that the industry has gone under with no hopes in sight of ever mining coal. This is even as they claim to be owed wages and entitlements with all the properties of the Corporation sold to individuals.

Aggrieved workers had already petitioned President Buhari over their plight. The issue they raised included; non-settlement of all arrears owed the disengaged staff of the NCC amounting to about N315 million; destruction of coal mining property by the BPE through a property consultancy firm, corruption through purported monetization of houses of the NCC, allegedly committed by the consultancy firm, among other allegations.

In one of the petitions, the workers claimed that the “BPE and their agents sold off heavy plants and machinery of the NCC at very ridiculous prices and declared peanuts to the BPE and even the lands too. This is a clear case of corruption.

“Example of such sale made is the gigantic and highly sophisticated coal washery plant housed in an entire seven-storey building built by Kopex contractors, Poland, together with the vast land housing the edifice worth over a billion naira was sold at N160 million.

“Other examples are two capacity coal briquette plants at Enugu and Ankpa, Kogi states which were sold in the same manner as plants and weigh bridges at Enugu, Okaba and Owukpa, among many others.”

They, therefore, urged the President to scrutinize all transactions made by the BPE, their agents and NCC officials, maintaining that due process was not followed.

They further prayed the President to “ask the BPE, NCC and their agents to make available a comprehensive list of all NCC office properties in the country, whether leased or not; whether sold or not as a lot of lease documents were manipulated while a good number of leases that expired were secretly and hurriedly re-negotiated, back dated and removed from government files.”

Chime, a former miner, witnessed the Iva Valley massacre of 1949 where more than 20 miners were killed. Photo by Patrick Egwu

Amidst the raging controversies, with some of the matters already in court, Dikki stated that it was not the business of the BPE to question what buyers of properties do with them as they have become the properties of the new owners.

On the issue of sold processing plants being used for other purposes other than for coal matters, Dikki said the plant was vandalized before the BPE sold it to the new owner, which he said was the reason he could not hold the new owner responsible.

He however, said all hopes were not lost for the revival of the industry through privatization, stating that there is an existing committee drawn from government agencies with the mandate to draw a road map for the immediate coal mining revival.

“We were supposed to go to the five coal blocks to make diligence recommendation but the rainy season disrupted it because you can’t go to the mines in rainy seasons but now that the rains are getting over, we will soon commence the assignment,” he said.

“The welfare of workers was very poor. No worker enjoyed his services as a coal worker. They were not well looked after like other workers in other establishment,” Ohagwu said. “So for now, it has not been settled anyway. And they are still owing many of us our welfare packages like for me I have not received anything since I left in 1994. So many workers were underpaid. Some were not paid at all.”

Inside the Kopex quarters. Photo by Patrick Egwu

On December 30, 2019, some Kopex properties where some of the miners presently live were put up for bidding and sale in the national dailies on January 14 and 17. For instance, a Kopex quarters with 16 bungalows in it at Iva Valley in Enugu where Ohagwu and his family and other miners live were put up for public bidding on January 16.

“This is not fair. They put up the advert when people must have travelled for the Christmas holidays,” Chime said.

Future expectations

The governor of Enugu state, Ifeanyi Ugwuanyi has on many occasions, expressed sadness over the inability of the state to tap from the economic benefits of coal and other solid mineral deposits in the state.

He urged the National Assembly to amend the Nigerian constitution towards transferring the prospecting and exploitation of solid minerals from the exclusive legislative list to the concurrent list.

This, he said, would enable the states participate in the issuance of mining licenses.

The governor also asked the federal government to compel companies with mining licenses in the state to commence operations, or have the licenses revoked.

He regretted that companies with mining permits had failed to commence operations, saying that the situation could have been avoided if the governors were involved in the issuance of licenses.

Stressing the importance of mining to the federal government’s economic diversification agenda, Ugwuanyi noted that Enugu state had not benefited from coal and other solid mineral deposits in the state.

He underscored the need for mining to commence immediately, saying “We have to say that this is even more important for Enugu State, a state that is richly endowed with solid mineral resources but which paradoxically, has gained so little from their existence, especially after the collapse and the eventual winding up of the NCC due to the nonchalant and uncooperative attitude of the owners of mining leases and licenses in the state.”

In 2018, during a trip to Poland for the COP24 – the United Nations 24th annual climate change conference, he had a discussion with the Polish government on how to partner and revive the coal industry in the state. Nearly 90,000 Poles are employed in coal mining, and for decades, they have enjoyed high wages and benefits from the industry. However, the outcome of that meeting is yet to be seen in real terms.

Geometric Power shares hope for revival

Geometric Power, an independent power generating and distribution company in the country says it is currently working on the development of 1000MW coal fired power plant [500MW in the first phase expandable to 1000MW in the second phase] in Nigeria.

According to the GENCO, the inspiration for this project is based on its founding philosophy of developing power projects which will result in immediate commercial advancement and development of the host community while making economic sense for the investors.

Giving further reasons for a coal powered plant, Geometric says “with a generation type mix of 70 percent gas and 30 percent hydro, Nigeria is unduly dependent on gas, including the Aba IPP, for power supply. With the underdevelopment of gas infrastructure for domestic use, gas supply is even more precarious. The country now has more installed generation capacity than can be adequately supported by available gas.

“Secondly, though the hydro is a renewable source of energy and in fact the cheapest source, it is seasonal and the country cannot be said to be hugely endowed with hydro potentials. A situation where it is constantly used as a peaking source whenever the gas plants are down, perennially places the country in short supply even when the gas stations are up during seasons of low water levels.

“Coal as fuel for the proposed power plant gives a triple edge advantage; it provides the needed diversification, cheaper overall electricity and its abundance locally effectively mitigates the fuel supply risk factor that has bedeviled gas as a source of fuel for power plants in the country.”

It added that this project is envisaged to supply power to the national grid and all classes of consumers within the country and also diversify fuel source for power development for both Geometric Power and Nigeria at large.

In the early years before its decline in the 1980, coal for instance, was used to power the Oji River Power Station in Enugu which generated power for the region and beyond. Industries in Enugu like Premier Cashew industry, AvopVegetable Oil, Sunrise Flour Mills, Niger Gas and Niger Steel were all powered by coal.

“The construction of a coal power plant provides multiple benefits to the nation especially the people of the state where the plant will be located. A key benefit is that it provides immediate employment opportunities [for both skilled and unskilled labour] as well as infrastructural development in the area. Given the integrated nature of the project, it is expected to attract an influx of allied businesses that support both the coal mining and power plant operations. Thus, the most significant benefit when the project is commissioned, will be a major economic transformation of the area,” it stated.

Despite promises expressed by Geometric Power in generating power using coal, residents in the state famously known as “Coal City” because of its large coal deposits, think the federal government is not sincere in fulfilling its promises of reviving the industry. Former workers are still living in solitude of working for an industry that never cared for their welfare.

Chime’s father who was a former miner, witnessed the Iva Valley massacre of 1949 where more than 20 miners were killed by the colonial police for demanding better welfare packages. In 2006, Chime retired from active service and is yet to be paid all his full benefits.

“It is all window dressing because the government was not serious with it else they wouldn’t have allowed it to collapse like that because the country was making lots of money from it,” Chime said of renewed interest of the government at reviving the industry. “We have seen this before and we are here to see what becomes of the industry”, he concluded.

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By Sunday Orji…

“…Before the end of the third day, all the animals that took the water died“.

The flares at Obrikom in Ogba/Egbema/Ndoni Local Government Area of RIvers State, never die. Fumes from high vertical flare stack stay steadfast in the air; darkening the day and brightening the twilight. The plants and shrubs and weeds are lean and stale and drained. The soil is thick and stony. The surface of the muggy rivers wear a veil of dark slowly floating black powders like a boundless sheet of dark cloud. The bunch of fire from the flares wag off vivid dark smokes into the sky.

Over the years, with gas flaring in full effect, only few plants and palm trees have survived the scourge coming from the heat and noise. And except for their green stained leaves, every vestige of the fertility in Obrikom and neighbouring Okwuzi –communities once great for its robust farm yields and rich waters – is fading off. The rain now comes late and acidic. And the farm yield is scare and poor. Obrikom is as hot as the edge of hell and the people wear sweat all day.

Thirty nine years after first outlawing gas flaring (since 1979) – the burning of natural gas during petroleum crude oil extraction – in Nigeria has continued. Defiance against environmental regulations and advocacy in addressing gas flaring has been high as communities within the Niger Delta region including Obrikom continue to face severe health out-turn. The multi-national oil companies – Total Nigeria Plc, Texaco, Shell Petroleum Development Company, Oando Group, NAOC, etc. – burn off gases, with the perils settling on host communities.

“From your first day on earth, you begin to inhale poisoned air until you are thirty, forty or fifty. Air is the source of life and if the air you take is poisoned, how would you live? Death is very rampant in the Niger delta. Mysterious sicknesses. A whole lot of miscarriages occur here. Our pregnant women are not in good health. The foetus in the womb is already endangered” Moses Ijemene (not real name), an engineer with Nigerian Agip Oil Company [NAOC], says.

Ijemene was born in the Niger Delta some forty years ago. He was among the last generation that saw the green fields of the Niger Delta and the fruitful clean ponds and rivers. He grew up eating everything fresh and healthy from the farms and waters. His father was a great fisherman. As the years rolled by, Moses watched the fading way of the past. But only one aspect of the disappearing vestige struck him.

“While growing up in the Niger Delta” he says, “I saw great fishes and aged men. The oldest men in our community were 140, 130, and 120. We lived long and healthy because we eat only natural foods, fishes and vegetables. There was barely a need for hospitals because we enjoyed fine health. As the years rolled by, death became rampant, and young men and children started dying. The oldest man in my clan today is just about 70 or thereabout. That was when I knew that my people were in trouble.”


River Orash,  the biggest but poisoned source of livelihood for the people of Obrikom and other neighbouring communities

Today, Ijemene lives away from the community. He found another home in the city of Port Harcourt so that his family and children would be safe from the threats of the toxics from flares. Yet, George Bennet, another engineer with Nigerian Agip Oil Company, NAOC, has lived almost his entire life in the rural community.

He has watched for the past three decades the unblinking flaming of gas stack, he has watched the rising of dark fumes from the tongues of the flare fire, he has watched the blanketing of his community with dark smokes and now he lives with great fear for his people’s health at Obrikom.

“In the communities around here where gas flaring is taking place, you find a lot of persons that are disfigured but in Obrikom our eyes are almost going blind. A lot of little children need glasses to read from tender age. Those who are most affected by threat of blindness are workers or retirees in the gas plants. Anybody that works in the gas plant for a long time, the person must surely use glasses before he can read” George said.

The gas flaring experience for the residents of Obrikom has been a story of memories and nostalgia. Sadly, the memories are not positive memories. They are negative memories. George, like every other adult shakes his head to throw off tears when he talks about a past buried in sorrow and regret. Obrikom and neigbouring Ebocha, Okwuzi, Mgbede, and Egbema are host to two giant multinational oil companies – Total Nigeria Plc and Nigerian Agip Oil Company, NAOC – with about eight gas flaring stack around them.


Night-time flares by the oil companies in Obrikom 

“There was a time the community complained to Agip that the sicknesses amongst our people was too much”, he states. “They brought white doctors to confirm if indeed the community was facing severe health challenges from the flares. The white doctors came with different species of animals and birds and fishes to run an experiment on the health situation in the communities. They fed the animals with the rain water that some of us in the Niger Delta drink. Before the end of the third day, all the animals that took the water died.

“The company, that year, offered free medical services to the community. After that year, it never happened again till today and its way over 10 years”.

The Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC) said the total volume of gases flared by oil and gas companies rose by 17.46 percent in the past year. The report by the country’s apex state oil corporation claims that flared gases rose from 244.84 billion standard cubic feet in 2016 to 287.59 billion standard cubic feet, SCF, in 2017.

In Nigeria, the penalty for gas flaring, according to Nigeria National Gas Policy 2017, is quite soft and the Federal government plans to “increase gas flaring penalty.” The document establishing the policy says that “the current gas flare penalty of N 10/Mscf (equivalent to $0.03) of associated gas flared is too low, haven been eroded in value over time….Consequently, the low penalty has made gas flaring a much cheaper option for operators compared to the alternatives of marketing or re-injection.”

Away from the penalty being too small to deter the oil companies, George says, the oil companies have not been showing any concern to the health of the communities.

“If you are sick, you go for your own personal treatment. And there are a lot of persons in this community who are poor and can’t foot their own health care bill” he retorts.

“Nobody in the oil producing communities is excluded from the hazards but what can the people do? The communities sometimes try fighting for it but those at the top would close it. People are suffering and no one compensates these communities for endangering their lives. But if I write about the rot in the land with my pen, where will it go? There is nothing the communities can do” says Eze Okaru, the paramount ruler of Okoronkwo village in Okwuzi, River state, Nigeria.

The tragic twist is that the people have been silent and terrified. The terror of volatile response from the oil companies or elements within the communities that benefit from their activities is fierce says Moses. A word for their fate is costly and only a few have the courage to unveil the secrecy. Getting interviews is difficult. Sources chew their words and pick carefully their phrases. To their heart, every pain and agitation is buried and silence is a common response.

In the next 15 years husbands may not be able to impregnate their wives

Obirikom is a two hour drive from the city centre of Port Harcourt. Disappearing farm lands mingle with cluster of palm trees; presenting a crossroad between fertility and impotence. The zincs are routinely dark-grey. The old are frail with a touch of white kink hair and stripes of folding skins that leave strands of many years of exposure to the affliction of flares and the infirmities of poverty.


White vehicle packed at Okwuzi few months back painted black by soot

For the past three years, Patience – a community health worker at Obrikom – has watched the drastic drop in the number of new born infants and pregnant mothers in some of these communities starting from Obrikom to Okwuzi, Ebocha, Mgbede – all in Ogba – Egbema – Ndoni local government area m of the state.

Cases of young ladies missing their menstruation is high and yet the pregnancy level is dropping. She says the experience is terrible but she doesn’t know how to explain the root of the problem to the locals.

“In the last three years if you come to the health center on Thursdays – usually the anti-natal days or Tuesdays –usually the post natal days – you find a huge number of women, say around 60-80. But now, you find just a few women who still come with a whole lot of health complains. Every now and then, someone is complaining of missing her menstruation” she said.

She says that in the future, say ten to 15 years from now, most male in this region would be suffering from infertility and prostate cancer. And they would be unable to impregnate their wives. The population of these communities would diminish and the male would suffer most.

Dr. Leelee Zitte, an environmentalist and neuron-physiologist at the Department of Animal and Environmental Biology, University of Port Harcourt reveals that the radiation and chemicals inhaled during long exposure to gas flaring can result in defect in the sperm cell. He states that this problem can affect the mobility of sperm cell such that a man may really find it difficult producing children.

“Something you wear has been polluted. Something you breathe has been polluted. Something you drink has been polluted. Something you eat has been polluted. Gases come from the numerous flare stacks around us and there is no free zone,” says Eze Okaru, who adds that it would be an extreme miracle to find a resident of any of these gas flaring communities that’s not facing one form of health problem or another.

A study by Professor Georgewill of the department of Pharmacology, University of Port Harcourt Teaching Hospital demonstrated that infertility can be triggered by hydrocarbon poisoning – a common byproduct of gas flaring. While specialist consultant surgeon, Dr. Furo Green claims that lung cancer associated with gas flaring-driven air pollution could affect over six million persons in the city of Port Harcourt, one of the core oil producing states of the Niger Delta.

My Child moves in the Womb

Its twilight on Tuesday in Obrikom. Glowing bulbs rise from every door post one at a time until the darkness in the community fizzles out. The flare – which is the king of all lights – sparkles from a distance above. It’s an amazing sight for aliens and awful time for indigenes and residents especially nursing mothers and pregnant women.

Pregnant mothers like Uchechi Micheal have several complains about the flare. She says that it’s usually very difficult to sleep at night because of how heated and noisy the environment turns every evening. This situation overtime creeps into systematic insomnia. Insomnia – medical studies have shown – leads to mood swings, irritability and higher risk of developing chronic diseases and general decline in both mental and physical health.


When the people protest, soldiers are sent after them

“My fear is that once the flare is heated, the heat in the community increases and the child in my womb begins to move about. This happens almost every night” she said.

Other pregnant mothers around surrounding communities confirm Uchechi’s experiences; aligning with her confession on sleeplessness and the movement of their babies at night and constant illness.

George Bennet, a father of two, says that children in the community are sick freak. George who is also resident in Obrikom says that the only way to keep the younger ones safe is by placing them on drugs once they are 4-6 months. The children here are often down with illness especially cough and malaria and fever, he complains.

Three years ago, Patience was transferred to Obrikom to work as a doctor in the community health center. She was born here some forty years back but she never lasted in the place as a child. She had gone off to the city to study. In between those years, she only breezed in and dashed off again. Her employment was a homecoming of a sort and optimism was huge.

She had returned with her five children. They arrived healthy and happy. After the first day at Obrikom, one of the kids was down with illness. Within the next one week, the other four kids came down with cough, malaria and fever. She had known from her studies that gas flares were terrible, but she had no idea it was this dreadful.

“My son who is less than two years has always been falling sick. Sometimes it’s cough. Other times its fever, and malaria. These ailments are always around the children here. The lungs of the little children are also seriously affected in a bad way”, says Patience.

The pollution in the Niger Delta has been linked to high infant mortality in the region. In the Nigerian context, researchers suggest that gas flaring can result in deformities in children.

Dr. Zitte, reveals that long term exposure to gas flaring results in damages to the brain cells and the central nervous system. He reveals that gas flaring effect is, however, more pronounced in infants and the unborn children in the region.

“Children developing in the womb under this flares are likely to have malformation and deformities”

Technically, gas flaring is illegal in Nigeria. The Articles (20) of the 1999 constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria as amended provides that ‘the state shall protect and improve the environment and safeguard the water, air and land, forest and wildlife of Nigeria.’ Nigeria is signatory to the Africa Charter and the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR) – both containing provisions that outlaws the violation of the safety of the environment.

Yet, government early this year revealed that there are 178 gas flare sites in the country.


Gas flaring reduction chart by NOAA/GGFR

Only few local researches have been directed at revealing the cause-effect studies on gas flaring and child health but strong speculations – drawn from general medical researches – prove that the effect do not just exist but they are dire.

Relatedly, the study by Professor Roland Hodler and his colleagues primarily provides a direct connection between pollution and child health in Niger Delta. Using spatial data from the Nigerian Oil Spill Monitor and the Demographic and Health Surveys, and relying on the comparison of siblings conceived before and after nearby oil spills, the researchers discovered that nearby oil spills doubled the neonatal mortality rate.

Its findings reveal that of the 16,000 infants killed within the first month of their life in 2012, 70 per cent – that is around 11,000 infants – would have survived their first year in the absence of oil spills.

Generally speaking, life expectancy in Nigeria is 53-55 years but in the Niger delta, life expectancy averages around 40 years; almost 15 years less. This is due to lifetime exposure to contaminated air, water sources, soil and sediment resulting from oil spill and gas flaring amongst other pollutants, according to the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) after carrying out a two-year study in the Niger Delta region.

The black powder that kills

Its 9a.m in Nigeria’s oil rich city of Port Harcourt. Moses, an engineer at Agip, was driving down the route to the University of Port Harcourt. The distance ahead of him is buried in black tiny moving powdery substances called soot. The entire city wore a dark air and everything was touched. The soot made waves in the media few months back and passed away and things remained the same.

“It has been around for the past two years and we never can tell where this substance would place the future of children and the unborn”, Professor Gobo of the department of Meteorology and Environmental Management, Rivers state university, Port Harcourt Nigeria said.

Gobo says the scale of the problem that the soot is placing on the entire Niger Delta may not be clear until scholars channel their studies to that field. “We may not see the entire consequences of the soot today though we are sure the effect is dangerous”, he told Ripples Nigeria. “In the future there may be more illnesses especially with our lungs. The little children would suffer most but everyone who takes in the poisoned air of the region is under health risk”

He adds however, that the government and the oil companies don’t want to encourage research into this area because it would expose the scale of the inhumanity done to the peoples’ health already.


The effect of gas flaring has been brutal

When the powder of the soot started dropping on Port Harcourt few months back every roof was touched and the windows and doors pierced. The airy cloud of dark pigment enmeshed the bare floors and settled on kitchens and pots and plates. When the soot, dark as the devil, settles on white clothes, it becomes bleached and its whiteness gives way for blackness.

“Some days, you wake up and discover that some part of your house is dark and if you walk through the tiles, you would discover that your footprint would be carved on the floor because of the dark droppings in the room. Beyond the increased heat in the city, you equally notice that a lot of persons are going down with throat cough” says Chioma Eze, a resident of Port Harcourt.

Soot are tiny black particles that can travel very far in the air and is chiefly composed of hydrocarbons produced as a result of incomplete combustion of largely oil and other forms of fuels. Health researchers explain that soot can consist of acids, chemicals, soils and dust. Soot results from the burning of fossil fuels, coal, manufacturing.

Gobo says that the blanketing of the Niger Delta by soot is traceable to gas flaring and the setting ablaze of illegal refineries by the military operations against bunkering in the creeks. These two, he says, ruins the air quality standard.

“Breathing in this tiny particles can cause coronary heart disease, asthma, bronchitis, and many other respiratory illnesses” wrote Zachary Keefe, a Senior Indoor Air Quality Consultant at US-based Cashins & Associates.

Researches in the United States of American reveal that exposure to the particles of soot-related air pollution results in around 20,000 premature deaths yearly. Relatedly, a study by Donald McCubbins shows that, in the United States, 1.4 million cases of aggravated asthma, 35,700 premature deaths, 2,350 heart attacks, 29,800 cases of acute bronchitis were avoided annually by implementing the soot pollution reduction.

There might be a more terrible situation in the Niger Delta but there are no studies to reveal this, Gobo believes.

Particles from soot – studies have shown – like the sulfur dioxide and nitrogen oxides mingle with moistures in the clouds to form acid rain which undermine the water quality resulting in damages to the soil and crops, and poisons food and waters. The tiny particles of soot can penetrate the lungs and the cardiovascular system posing huge health threats, the World Health Organisation reveals.

Some die in less than one minute.

For nearly three decades, Okoro Isaac, worked in the gas plants with one of Nigeria’s multinational oil companies, Nigerian Agip Oil Company [NAOC]. Being a griot, he talked about the days in the oil companies and in those stories, death, and crumbling health were common characters. While Okoro talked, cycle of coughs snatched short phrases from his lips. His breath was lousy and deep. And when the cough sounds are made, it seemed as though he would vomit his heart.

Yet he refused to talk about his health, insisting that it was personal and that his healing was spiritual. Anyways, a community health worker in Obrikom says that such signs of failing health was common amongst retirees of the oil companies and residents who have been around long enough.

“They don’t usually last after retirement. They are often moving from one clinic to the other because their entire immune system has been destroyed over the years. The oil companies give them huge salaries because they know they won’t be alive to enjoy the wealth. The road network in this community is superb, the electricity is constant but what about the health of the people?” she retorted.

Over the years, discussions on gas flaring and the associated health dangers have been restricted to the communities, but reliable sources from the oil companies told Ripples Nigeria, that primary staff face more dangers than is known. The sensitive nature of the gas plants and petroleum exploration require that companies keep certain safety standard in order to protect the health of the oil workers who are directly exposed to all sorts of dangerous gases.

Engineer Moses argues that every discussion on the dangers of gas flaring should start from the health of the workers. He says that the personal protective equipment required for safety are grossly inefficient and many workers die in silence. He adds that the companies threaten those who fail to comply with sack.

“The white man would tell you that you would not find any job elsewhere if you are sacked from this job. Honestly, the fear of losing your job forces many of us to continue this work.”

In 2014, Moses recalls, he lost his closest colleague in the company to brain tumor and he has seen more workers suffering instant or delayed deaths. As he talked, his fingers wagged in the air, his voice was slowing and deepening and tears formed around the red clouds over his eyeball.

“For years my friend suffered from failing health. He won’t be able to say he is weak because the management would sack and replace him. He continued visiting those sensitive places unprotected. Upon his death in 2014, the result of the autopsy showed he died of brain tumor but the company concealed it.”

He lamented, that “Dying here is gradual but steady, as men take in these gases every day. Little by little we die off as one inhales the poisoned air for twenty, thirty or forty years. Our lives drop every second. As we inhale this acid into hearts, and livers and lungs, my people rot on the inside” Isaac bewailed.

Isaac and Moses who have a combined 34 years’ experience in the gas industry claim that most of these occupational hazards would have been avoided if the companies made adequate provisions. They, however, agree that the handful of accidents and impairing health can be traced to the carelessness of the oil worker.

“While the oil companies have their standard for protecting the health of workers, the field managers may not have the full equipment to follow this standard especially during emergency. The instruction may tell you not to enter a particularly place without wearing a nose mask but the worker may not have it and in certain conditions, a worker is forced to go in and work unprotected irrespective of health risks” Isaac said.

But there is an exception. That exception is not positive. The top managers who manage operations rarely face these problems. So the primary workers are most endangered and those who flaunt compliance lose their job irrespective of the health hazards.These primary workers are largely Nigerians.

Sadly, Isaac said that in the course of operation some workers go down for it. He recalls the death of a young oil worker – few months back – from his community who was exposed to an extremely concentrated gas that takes a person’s life in less than one minute.

Ordinarily, the oil companies make medical provisions available for health checks which in some cases takes place once a year for active workers. There is also a free medical clinic services for retired oil workers. But the complex health situations that oil workers develop, Moses claims, far exceeds what this routine checks and clinic can handle.

Wasting wealth, harming health

The NNPC disclosed that oil and gas firms operating in the country are currently flaring 700 million standard cubic feet (SCF) of gas per day, resulting in loss of N868 million daily.

According to NNPC Group Managing Director, Mr. Maikanti Baru, this 700 million SCF per day of gas flared daily, is capable of generating an equivalent of 5,000 megawatts of electricity per day.

The tragic twist is that 75 percent of Nigerians lack electricity. According to the Nigerian Association of Energy Economists, NAEE, despite statistics indicating that 45 percent of the country’s population is currently connected to the national grid, regular supply is still restricted to just about 25 percent of the population.

Nigeria’s power problem has lingered for years, forcing the government to privatize the Power Holding Company of Nigeria (PHCN) in hopes of achieving at least a moderate supply of electricity.

Though Crude oil accounts for more than 80 percent of Nigeria’s foreign earning, internal utilization of the many potentials of the sector have been undermined by wastefulness and shortsightedness, and the continued waste of the country’s wealth in gas flaring is sadly, a strong pointer to this scenario.

For instance, the energy problem in Nigeria can be addressed almost at no cost by resorting to gas generated energy, as the country has over 187 trillion cubic feet (tcf) of proven gas reserve (comprising 97 tcf associated gas and 90 tcf non-associated gas). Nigeria has the 7th largest natural gas deposit in the world, and holds the 4th largest reserves worldwide.

The country flares nearly eight billion cubic meters of gases annually. This flared ‘eight billion cubic meters of gases’ the World Bank’s GGFR reveals, is enough to “generate electricity for over 75 million of its population that lack access to electricity.”

Data obtained from local reports show that oil and gas companies operating in Nigeria burn over $3.5 to $5 billion yearly from the over 257 flow stations in the Niger Delta. Nigeria, interestingly, flared about 17.15 per cent of the 95,471 metric tonnes of gas produced in June 2015 alone, a report from Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC) revealed. This too is very sad in a country where more than 70 percent of its 180 million population live below the poverty threshold.

For over three decades, Nigeria has been shifting the deadline for gas flaring starting from 1979. The government’s newest deadline was 2020. That date too has been technically shifted by 10 years. That’s because Nigeria recently became signatory to the “Zero Routine Flaring by 2030” Initiative by the United Nations, meaning that the government has shifted attention to 2030. With this new goal post, Nigeria is set to lose about 50 billion dollars in the next decade to gas flaring.

Minister of State for Petroleum Resources, Dr. Ibe Kachikwu, in a piece published in the Organisation of the Petroleum Exporting Countries, OPEC, Bulletin for December 2017-January 2018 revealed that gas flaring led to “the burning of money that would have been used to generate wealth, create employment and also generate electricity for the people”.

“In this country, right now, we have 178 gas flare sites… Daily, we flare around 755 million standard cubic feet per day. You can imagine how much we lose as a country, the carbon credit we would have gotten from this, the electricity we would have generated, the LPGs (liquefied petroleum gas)…” a representative of the minister at the Gas Buyers’ Forum, organised by the Gas Aggregation Company of Nigeria in Abuja was quoted as saying.

In 2008, Nigeria launched the Gas Master Plan (“NGMP”) which provided a roadmap for the exploitation, rapid development and effective distribution of Nigeria’s robust gas reserves. Nigeria has so far made relative progress since the inception of the NGMP, with the gas supply market increasing from 300 million to 2 billion cubic feet per day (cfpd).

But gases even have greater and growing domestic value. There are millions of Nigerians who are reverting to the use of gas cylinders and 1 kilogram of gas in Nigeria local market sells at 300 – 400 Naira (nearly 1 dollar). The potential of gas in Nigeria is great but no one may say just how great until the right policy and strategic planning meets opportunity and potential.

Last line

The era of crude oil is gradually fading away. The recent fumbling of oil prices is a pointer. Even more, the attention to renewable energy is getting higher, as the original markets for crude, whether in Europe, Asia or America are doing everything possible to sideline oil at most in the nearest future, whereas the era of gas is just emerging.

A lot of European nations are either liquidizing their gases or conserving them through re-injection. Nigeria might not liquidize or re-inject gases but the country has lingered too long with the dangers of gas flaring, which harms health as wealth is wasted.

 

This story is supported by Ripples Centre for Data and Investigative Journalism.

 

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Several years of living with a polluted land and spoiled environment, the people of Ogoniland finally breath a sigh of relief when the federal government several months ago announced it would embark on a clean up of their land.
Sunday Orji was in Ogoniland but discovered that hope has been turned to rage, by a promise that only left a nightmare untouched.

 

The Morning after

On an overcast morning of August 2008, Christian Kpandei rushed off to the creeks to survey his fishing net placed all night in the river. His eyes, in memory, blisters with hope. In the past, it was common to visit the shore and find trapped slick black-headed catfishes on the net or the spiny fin of scaly tilapias.

Surprises were scarce.

Routinely, Kpandei would unstrap the cluster of fishes with a craftsman’s expertise and pull them off the net and drift home with a smile hanging on the edge of his lips. But with the Bodo crude oil spill in 2008, and a follow up spill in 2009, nothing ever remained the same, even when the people bury their suffering in pretence.

The spill experience was the defining moment in the life of Kpandei as much as the lives of about 832,000 inhabitants of Ogoni land according to the 2006 National Population Census Figure. Available data reveal that 70 % of the 15,600 Bodo people – traditionally fishers and farmers – live below poverty line and the London High Court claims that about 600,000 barrels of crude oil was spilled over many communities.

Yet, he manages to disremember the details of that day. He only remembers leaving his home hugely optimistic and returning from the water front with depressive pessimism. These were the extremes between his feelings.

His Majesty, the leader of Goi, Tomii S, Tomii, said spills were not new, neither were creek fires uncommon. He downplays any shock and recalls “the destruction of 38 fishing canoes packed in the mangrove by crude fire in the 1970s.” That notwithstanding, he concedes that 2008 and 2009 spills were “terrifying.” Christian said it was “massive.” And Dominic Saanaa, the Acting Youth Leader of Bodo, Rivers state, thinks it was “unprecedented.”

The United Nations Environmental Programme, UNEP, says that indeed oil industry operations were suspended in Ogoniland in 1993, “widespread environmental contamination remains.”

His Majesty, Tomii… The leader of Goi,

After the spills that covered the creeks, stifling, without discretion, every living thing in the coastline of many communities in Ogoni, the people initiated consultations and planned on the next line of actions. They watched the lips of the government and the body language of Shell Petroleum Development Company (Nigeria) Ltd, SDPC, whose facilities triggered the spills. Deciding the means of taking up the case was delicate for some reasons.

For one, dragging Shell to court was ideal and receiving compensation from the polluters – that’s pulling Shell into the Polluter Pays Principle, PPP – could be consoling but payments don’t heal the land; it feeds, rather trivially, the mouth in the interim. The people resolved to approach the court proceeding with two demands. One, demand compensation for damages. Two and vitally, clean up their coastline so as to restore its rich and fading vestige.

Historically, the position of most Ogoni communities, King Tomii claims, has always been on these two premises. In previous instances, receiving compensation was attainable but cleaning up was, ordinarily, far-fetched. In fact, Christian says that “Shell are more willing to pay for compensation in the issue of damages but Shell will never clean up.”

But there was change in 2009. That change was a positive change. Yet the change was not from Shell.

While the call for cleaner Ogoni land dates back to a couple of decades, the Ogoni clean up or to put it more dead-on, the government’s allegiance towards cleaning the region, was aroused by this two major spills.

Prior to the spills, mutual suspicion had grown between the company and the communities. Truce was scarce. And even in the midst of this riff, Christian thought Shell took their “inhumanity to the extreme. For seventy-two days, oil oozed like water. Flying upwards from the leaked pipes and Shell did nothing,” he says about the 2008 spills. “The second spill in 2009 lasted for seventy-eight days before Shell intervened”

The president Olusegun Obasanjo administration seemingly wanted to heal the tortured relationship between the government and the multinational oil companies and Ogoni people. The death of Ken Saro Wiwa. Unpaid compensation. But much more, the clean-up of Ogoni land, fractured the reconciliatory process and UNEP, though relatively alien to the Ogoni people, concedes that “trust” was a major undermining peace between the stakeholders in Ogoni land.

Oil-spilled land in Bodo community

Tomii measures the suffering of Ogoni in moments. He said long stories that zeroed down on the people’s fear and betrayal, and the death of Ken Saro Wiwa in 1993 was “a delicate moment of sorrow and resignation” for his people but the relief that came on June 2016 when the Ogoni clean-up was flagged off seemed “special and healing.”

The government pledged itself to two crucial task when it flagged off the Ogoni clean up mid 2016 as well as the 2009 commissioned assessment of Ogoni land; One, to investigate the level of damages done to the Ogoni or what UNEP described as “comprehensive Environmental Assessment of Ogoniland.” and “an environmental clean-up to follow, based on the assessment and subsequent planning and decisions.” The bigger task, more narrowly, was the clean-up.

The government deceived us

Accordingly, the United Nations Environmental Programme, UNEP, under government funding, in two years concluded and submitted their assessment of the impact of oil pollution in Ogoni land. With this, the first stage of the government’s bargain was delivered.

The second – remediation based on the impact of the assessment – was adjourned despite warning by UNEP that “restoring the livelihoods and well-being of future Ogoni generations is within reach but timing is vital. “Failure to begin addressing urgent public health concerns and commencing a cleanup will only exacerbate and unnecessarily prolong the Ogoni people’s suffering.”

June 2, 2016, the government of president Muhammadu Buhari flagged off, finally, the implementation of the Ogoni clean up. At the Sivibiragbara water front, popularly called Patrick’s Water front in Bodo community, Ogoni, and perhaps sensing the thick weariness in the faces of the ordinary people, the Vice-President, Prof. Yemi Osinbajo flagged off the programme with many promises.

UNEP’s Executive Director Achim Steiner, said the flag off was a “historic step toward improving the situation of the Ogoni people. He added that the scale and nature of the project means that the “clean up of Ogoniland will neither be easy nor fast, but it needs to be done.”

It was nice that Steiner placed a clause on the project. And to prove government willingness to genuinely savage the situation, the report provided a starting point. The starting point, no doubt, was the implementation of “emergency measures” detailed in the report. And when the Vice president spoke to Ogoni people during the flag-off ceremony, he calmed, wordily, frailed nerves and revealed that he knew that the “lives, socio-economic and political interest depend, to a great extent, on the quality of our environment.”

“When you hear the politicians speak, you can easily be misled into thinking that it’s from their heart to help you” says Chief Jude Baritema, the spokesperson of Bodo city, one of the largest cities in Ogoni, comprising of nearly 35 villages in Gokana Local Government Area, Rivers state. He admitted seeing rich flagging off ceremony at the waterfront but he adds equally that “nothing more than that has happened after the flag off”, and “from day one, we have never seen any sincerity from the government.”

Baritema is reserved. He is such a man that kept his voice even in moments of irk. It’s only in the redness of his eyes and the shaking of his head that his anger is laid out.

Jude Baritema…The spokesperson of Bodo city

Old Tomii wasn’t. His age and anger contradict. His fingers, raised to drive a point, was tenuously dancing in the air. But his words were clear. He took each word with elderly patience. Such that his bottled up anger, came out precise and fierce against the subject matter. “The government has deceived us” he said. “And we know Nigeria has a dead government and don’t care if we live or die. Their attitude towards the clean-up proves this.”

After months of expectations, the government pleaded that it needed more time to sort out vital issues related to the assessment report received from UNEP. It revealed that the report had flaws. Ibrahim Jibril, Minister of State for Environment, in 2017, told newsmen, that they “discovered this document was faulty to a large extent” and “had to review it.” He says this review was “the reasons we are slow.”

Kenteber Obirador, Project Officer Energy and Climate Change, Environmental Rights Action (ERA) says the minister’s comment was “shameful and pathetic.” And proves that he is more keen on “paying lip service to his master, the president. We invited UNEP in the first place because we didn’t have the technical know-how to carry out the assessment”, he says. The report, by every standard is a vital starting point, though it is not necessarily “perfect.”

Ripples Nigeria called up Kpandei for a talk on the Ogoni clean up. He was there when the trench for installing Shell’s pipe was dug 50 years ago. And he worked in that field, in what he describes as “unknowingly digging his people’s grave”. Christian pulled a black suit over a traditional old British jacket and had a blacksmith’s kind of dark glasses. He talked a little about the ongoing Bodo court case with Shell in London and Ken Saro Wiwa. And those small side talks gave way for the huge Ogoni clean up matter.

Christian Kpandei

But Kpandei didn’t talk that day. No, the term talking undermines the thick anger in his voice, and in his eyes, as he speaks. “There is nothing like clean up in Ogoni land. The Cleanup you see is only a television and radio clean up. The government is not honest! “ he summed and stayed silent.

Dangerous Delay

The Ogoni clean-up is pretty fragile. It has always had that shade of emergency. It has always had the taint of tussle. And UNEP, thoroughly, recognised this delicateness. The report revealed that the “loggerheads” between the people and politics and the oil industry created a “landscape characterized by a lack of trust, paralysis and blame, set against a worsening situation for the communities concerned.”

Upon this observation, the agency, advocated quick emergency actions to restore, partly, the lost trust and much more, the environment. The agency says that “even though the oil industry is no longer active in Ogoniland, oil spills continue to occur with alarming regularity…any delay in cleaning up an oil spill leads to oil being washed away, traversing farmland and almost always ending up in the creeks. When oil reaches the root zone, crops and other plants begin to experience stress and can die.”

Nevertheless, there are facets to the clean-up and the delay in Ogoniland especially UNEP recommendations. Ideally, the “emergency measures” in the wisdom of UNEP required radical and immediate actions. These emergency measures are eight and should have been implemented as a quick follow-up on the report. According to Fegalo Nsuke, the spokesperson of Movement for Survival of Ogoni People, MOSOP, the delay is dangerous for “many reasons.”

“One, the people are dying in their numbers every day. Recent community survey shows that Ogoni buries nearly forty persons weekly. This is particularly sad because majority of the diseased are young persons of between 20 – 30 or 35 years” he says.

Still, the Vice President, like other members of the government, undermined this threat. He would rather prefer that all stakeholders understand that “there is a lot going on. And that the government can’t address all of the problems at once.”

Life expectancy in Nigeria, between 2006 to 2016, increased by seven years to over 63 and 67 years for men and women respectively yet in the Niger Delta region, life expectancy, within the same period, dropped to 40 – 43 years says United Nations Environmental Programme, UNEP. This disparity, experts agree, is due to early exposure to heavily polluted environment.

There have been, ordinarily speaking, a lot of round bruising with the clean-up and the Ogoni people, in resignation, seem to be stooping below the storms. The delays, it’s been widely reported, is as a result of funding or more appropriately the controversies of funding. To trigger the clean-up exercise, UNEP, suggested an initial capital of 1 $billion dollars be set aside as part of Ogoni Restoration Fund.

In the beginning, in the days of Amina Mohammed as a Minister of Environment, she was quoted by a local media report, that “funds for the Ogoni clean-up are intact…There is no politics here. The facts are clear. The Ogoni environment has been degraded and we need to restore it. That is what we are doing.” That was August 2016.

Subsequently, the government’s New Niger Delta Vision reported that the “Vice President presided over the ceremonial signing of the Ogoni Trust Fund escrow agreement. With this signing, $170 million is to be provided imminently from the first tranche of the $1 Billion for the Ogoni clean-up that was recommended by the UNEP,” the vice president assured. That was April 2018.

Much earlier, Guardian, UK, reported that Shell was holding off the payment of their part funding for “the long delayed clean up” because nothing was in place to show that the clean-up has begun. The spokesperson of Shell said that “the money will be made avalaible when we are sure that the structures are in place, are robust and will be overseen correctly. It is very much the responsibility of the Nigerian government.” That was August 2015.
Few months forward, Shell reportedly provided $10 million dollars for the project. In a widely circulated report, SPDC General Manager, Internal Relations, Mr. Igo Weli, revealed that “SPDC JV has made available the $10 million take-off fund for HYPREP as part of its contribution towards funding its share of the Ogoni Restoration Fund.” She added that the delays in the clean-up had nothing to do with lack of funds. That was August 2017.

However, the government did not see the honesty in Shell’s position. Maybe, Shell wasn’t lying but the government was having a different view on the grounds of her probable extreme financial constrain. And when the vice president addressed the issue months later, he said that “contrary to claims that government has been docile on the issue” that the government, in the nearest future – next meeting in a week time -, would discuss “budget” for the clean-up.

You cannot do anything without money and you cannot collect the money without budgeting for it so you have to show the work that it is meant for. We are on the right track and very soon we would all see the work being done,” he said. Osibanjo admitted, contrary to the position of Shell, that “funding was a major constraint for the seeming delay in the project and the clean-up exercise.” That was November, 2017.

Prior to the government’s self-satisfying position, the Governor of River state, Nyesom Wike says the government was not serious with the clean-up. He told the Senate Committee on Environment led by Senator Oluremi Tinubu that the “The federal government is not serious about clean-up of Ogoni land. We are tired of telling our people that the project would start next year. Let it not be a political project. Look at the North East, a commission was established and $1 billion dollars was released.”

Probably touched by the agitations raised by Wike, Chairman of Senate Committee on Environment, Senator Tinubu, imminently, articulated a new line of action. “We are concerned about the issues, “she started. “We will use face masks when we get to the location. Face mask would draw attention of the message to the world on the essence of the clean-up”.

Fegalo of MOSOP said “It’s difficult to trust the Nigerian government on this. They have not kept their words at all. In seven years, the government has not been able to provide water for a single person in Ogoni land. The standards recommended by United has been flawed. In the end, this clean up would not result in a clean Ogoni land”.

In all these, Ibrahim Jibril, the Minister of State for Environment, feels that the “rush” to clean up Ogoni was needless. Seven years and counting, he thinks, is a short time to implement at least the emergency measures. The clean-up, in his view, could harmlessly take a longer time. His tone suggested that the people, after all, have been on their suffering for years.

He says that “accusers” should know he is not in a haste to fail.

“You may say we are slow, yes we are slow and these are the reasons we are slow and the accusers who say we are doing it for politics and now that we have won, that is why we are not doing anything again. For so many years, these things have been going on and nothing happened and now that we are on the verge of doing something, everybody is impatient” he stated.

Quite honestly, the minister was on point. The government have done nothing. For the past three years they are still on the “verge of doing something.”

Again Kentebe, an environmental activist, feels this is sad. The fact that the people have been on this suffering for decades should make the government sympathetic and humanly quick. The government should understand that cleaning up ogoni land is not a gift to the people, it’s their right irrespective of the number of past administrations that had skipped that task, he argues.

One of many polluted lakes in Ogoniland

UNEP, foresightedly, warned that delays could escalate the magnitude of the damages done to the Ogoni land and in some ways emphasized this view lightly when it indicated that “while no oil production has taken place in Ogoni land since 1993, the facilities themselves have never been decommissioned. Consequently, the infrastructure has gradually deteriorated, through exposure to natural processes, but also as a result of criminal damage, causing further pollution and exacerbating the environmental footprint.”

This delay has consequences, Amnesty reported in 2018. It shows that the government has taken only limited steps to do things rightly and ordinary people keep paying the prize. But beyond rights, Fegalo, the spokesperson of MOSOP says that the government is “provoking Ogoni people to violence but the people have remained peaceful.” And the government is creating the impression that “only violence is rewarded.”
“The government would be happy if we take up arms so that they can wipe all of us out in one day like they killed over 4000 indigenes of Ogoni when we stood up for our rights between 1993 -1999” he said.

HYPREP Has Failed

Kpandei who said he was trained by three British masters, lamented, “There is a lot of propaganda on the radio and television that a clean-up is taking place in Ogoni land but when you go to the site or communities, look into the creeks, make your research and find out from the people, you would know whether the reports on the media are true or not,” he revealed.

Sadly, Kpandei was saying this in low spirit. His voice was clear and fragile but his face was far too troubled.

To understand the context of Christian’s complains or contempt, the suggested modalities for the exercise would be revisited. The Hydrocarbon Remediation Project, HYPREP, was established to implement the recommendations of the UN Environmental Programme report. The task of HYPREB, experts say, was pretty clear. Even if the UNEP report was, in some instances, imperfect, only few adjustment would be required. Much more, the roles of HYPREP was divided into phases.

First off, HYPREP primarily ought to start the implementation of the reports from the emergency measures. To skip this modality would have consequences. And this consequences would be ugly. The report argues that those recommendations were structurally interconnected such that altering the steps or side-lining some would undermine the progressive success of other stages and of courses, the entire process.

The United Nations Environmental Programme says the document provided the “foundation upon which action (can be) undertaken to remedy the multiple health, environmental and sustainable development issues facing millions of people in Ogoni land,” adding that the report “can provide a firm foundation upon which all the stakeholders concerned can, if they so wish”

Whichever way, the starting point was to imminently execute the emergency measures. The emergency measures were eight and vital and fragile. The UN agency said that these measures “warrant immediate action.”

Generally speaking, a health audit of the entire region was suggested, in addition to providing adequate drinking water for impacted sites plus initiating a survey of all drinking water where hydrocarbons were observed. These three, alongside health awareness campaign deterring communities from neither engaging in artisan refining or living in communities having contamination exceeding intervention values and warning families not to drink, swim and bathe or walk in place and rivers where hydrocarbons were observed in the surface.

“When HYPREP asked us to leave our homes and livelihoods, they gave us nothing. Our people are aliens in different places and many people have died. I may not be alive to see Ogoni clean but the government should heal our land for those who would survive” Tomii said.

With those words, Tomii went silent.

Abandoned house….. The people were sent away from their houses without any support

Observers, from the duty of care point of view, argue that HYPREP had no reason sending people away from their lands without any support to resettle away from their livelihood. And till today, communities within Ogoni land still drink contaminated water because “HYPREB did not provide a single well for us here” says Fynface, The Executive Director of Youths and Environmental Advocacy Centre.

But there are other reasons, more narrowly, to which the failure of the HYPREP has been ascribed. The discriminatory isolation of select communities in Ogoni land from the exercise; creating more troubles than it rolled away according to local sources. For instance, Bodo, one of the largest and most polluted communities in Ogoni land has been isolated from the faulted, medical outreach. And has in fact “lost touch with the clean-up” according to Baritema, the spokesperson of thirty-five village Bodo.

Kpandei says “the average man doesn’t know anything about what HYPREP is doing. The agency doesn’t have the charisma to carry out this clean up. They have failed. HYPREP has lost their credibility. The people in HYPREP have no vision, they have no focus.”

Swamped by this round bruising, HYPREP, rather shockingly, has no reason to panic. The government, whose tone it must dance to is pretty pleased with its job. The president, Muhammadu Buhari, speaking in the three years of his administration said that “the environmental clean-up of the region (Ogoni land) is progressing satisfactorily.”

The government too, to put it bluntly, must have been impressed, or better still, seduced by the aired efforts on television or radio most times in respect to the clean up. After all, the president has never been to Ogoni land in his administration. He has never seen the oil upon their waters. He has never seen their crude sailing on their soup or the dark boundless sheet of soot on their waters or the dark overcast over them at twilight. And when the rare opening of launching the clean up in 2016 came by, he was pleased to pass on it.

A rusty sign-post prohibiting movement due to contamination

When Ripples Nigeria reached out to Dr, Marvin Dekil, the Project Coordinator of HYPREB, he was courteous at first, but as soon as our correspondent introduced himself, and the reason for the call, that it has to do with the Ogoni clean-up, his demeanour changed, and everything turned from unassuming courtesy to subversive antagonism.

“You can’t talk to me just like that. There is a due process. In fact, I am in a crucial meeting. And if you want to talk to me, go to the website and apply for the opportunity” he hollered and hung up.

A trusted source close to Dr. Marvin offered some explanation for his attitude. He pleaded that we ought to empathise with him. “Everybody is beginning to find out that he is doing nothing. It has been frustrating for him and it is difficult facing one media organisation after another. With all these reports, he feels the government may axe him”.

The source suggested that the presidency could have been misled into believing that the clean-up was working. His view is not an outcast. And didn’t differ in perspective from Fegalo’s who revealed that “a lot of propaganda was going into the clean-up.”

Based on Marvin’s assertion, our correspondent sent an email HYPREP, aligning with his expectations towards “due process,” and indicating that the request was urgent, relatively.

Seven days later, there was no reply. A friendly follow-up was sent across. After another seven days passed with still no feedback, our correspondent again called Dr. Marvin. Several call to his number went unanswered.
“To have said that cleanup was progressing satisfactory, for us is something that came very surprisingly,” Conflict Adviser of CISLAC, Mr. Salaudeen Musa, said at the meeting of civil societies in Port Harcourt late May. “Tendencies are there that the Advisers of the President are not advising him properly. Tendencies are there that they are feeding the president very wrong information.”
Beyond the inadequacies of the present efforts, locals accuse HYPREP of deliberately running an isolative and selective clean up, ignoring many deeply affected communities in the process.

The spokesperson of Bodo, Baritema says “HYPREP doesn’t have program, it has never had and it’s better scrapped. Bodo is one of the largest community affected by the spills in the Niger delta.” He continued, “but we have been completely isolated from the clean-up exercise.”

A polluted river

But he has no regret because, according to him, his people “don’t need a jamboree health outreach where people would be fighting for paracetamol and multivitamins and mosquito nets. HYPREP picked better grounds where they can be worshiped and fool the people and sell their lies. My people are wise.”

If Ken Wasn’t Killed

Seeing the situation of the people, and the strength of the pollution, it’s natural to feel terrified and provoked. One remembers the words of the elders, many of whom may die before another visit to Ogoni, many of whom may go blind too. One remembers the sick bones of weighed souls wearing wizened skins, the black spring and the thick dark waters. And it’s not easy to forget, the slow tear coming down the cheek of Tomii when he said his own death could be few months away.

Needless to say, the distress of the people, as well as the suffering of the widows of pollution, and the legion of early deaths recorded weekly, is as vivid as the sun rising from the neon-yellow cloud during the first visit to Ogoni.

“If Ken wasn’t killed,” Tomii said, “we would have been saved.”
Tomii stayed silent now. He was facing his own portrait, taken probably in his thirties, his broad chest pushed forward, and his face vacant. There is such anguish in that silence, one could easily commune with his people’s suffering.

Maybe Ogoni land and the rest of Niger Delta deserve more. Maybe Nigeria has been unkind in the past. Maybe, it’s time to heal their land and water. Maybe, it’s time to set Tomii free from his despair. Maybe, it’s time to calm the rage of this people.

 

This story is supported by Ripples Centre for Data and Investigative Journalism.

 

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