Every year, at Pwani Oil, we participate in a coastal clean-up along the Indian Ocean shoreline in Kilifi. In just about three kilometres of beach, we routinely collect more than a tonne of non-biodegradable waste.
But what is perhaps most striking is the sheer variety of what we find. Flip flops, water bottles, cigarette butts, food wrappers, toys, phone chargers, fishing lines, broken household items and even discarded electronics all wash ashore. Unfortunately, the reality is that it just won’t stop; we clean this year and next year we return to find another tonne waiting for us.
It is difficult not to feel frustrated during these exercises. Every item we pick up tells the story of someone who purchased a product, used it briefly and then abandoned it without thought for where it would eventually end up. This makes the ocean effectively a dumping ground for habits we refuse to confront on land.
This personal frustration soon gives way to a much larger reality. What we often see on the beach is only a fragment of a far deeper ecological and economic crisis unfolding in plain sight. Scientists estimate that around eight million metric tons of plastic waste enter the oceans every year, while studies suggest that nearly 90 percent of seabirds have ingested plastic in some form.
Marine life across the food chain is paying the price for human convenience as sea turtles mistake floating plastic bags for jellyfish and fish consume microplastics that ultimately make their way back into human diets.
Coral reefs, already under pressure from warming oceans, are increasingly also suffocated by pollution. For Kenya, a country whose coastline supports tourism and fishing livelihoods, this challenge carries serious national implications.
The problem, however, is not unique to the coast. One only needs to look at the state of urban drainage systems after heavy rains in Nairobi to see how deeply embedded poor waste disposal habits have become.
Plastic bottles clog waterways, food packaging blocks drainage channels and illegal dumping sites emerge almost overnight. Flooding in many urban areas, initially viewed purely as a consequence of weather patterns, is now increasingly linked to human negligence.
Seen in this urban context, the same patterns that choke coastal ecosystems are clearly echoed inland, pointing to a wider behavioural and systemic issue. It is within this broader reality that Kenya has, to its credit, previously shown leadership in environmental policy.
The country’s 2017 ban on single-use plastic carrier bags remains one of the boldest such decisions globally.
Initially, many predicted public resistance, but, instead, citizens adapted remarkably quickly. Today, it is difficult to imagine our supermarkets and retail spaces reverting to the era of thin plastic carrier bags.
That success demonstrates that behavioural change is possible when policy and public education align around a common goal.
At the same time, the next phase of the waste challenge is far more complex because today’s pollution crisis involves a wide ecosystem of consumption habits and waste management gaps, which no single policy or clean-up exercise will solve. I say this from my perspective as a leader in a company that relies significantly on plastic packaging.
Businesses cannot continue to manufacture products while leaving the burden of waste management solely to consumers or government.
The scale of the problem demands honesty about the role citizens play. Building a cleaner country will remain impossible if public spaces continue to be treated as dumping grounds. The habit of throwing waste from car windows, leaving litter after public gatherings or dumping refuse into rivers reflects a culture problem. We all must now agree that environmental stewardship cannot be outsourced.
Importantly, we must all strive at reducing the amount of waste that requires collecting. That means investing more seriously in waste segregation at household level, improving recycling infrastructure, enforcing anti-dumping regulations consistently and encouraging innovation around circular economies.
Thankfully, across Kenya, encouraging examples are now emerging, including community-based recycling initiatives in places like Mombasa, Nakuru and Kisumu that are demonstrating how waste can become an economic resource. Informal waste collectors, often overlooked in public discourse, are helping recover thousands of tonnes of recyclable material every year while creating livelihoods for themselves and others.
Elsewhere, Start-ups converting plastic waste into construction materials and paving blocks are proving that environmental sustainability and economic opportunity can coexist. Counties are also strengthening their waste collection systems, but citizens are equally called upon to support those systems by using them responsibly.
Meanwhile, schools, community organisations and even faith institutions have a role to play in shaping attitudes from an early age. Children who grow up understanding the connection between waste and environmental protection are far more likely to become responsible citizens and consumers.
Ultimately, the conversation around waste management is about the kind of society Kenya hopes to become in the decades ahead. The progress already being made across communities shows that solutions are within reach but sustaining that progress will require a shared understanding that waste is not someone else’s problem.
The choices made in homes, schools, markets, roads, offices and beaches every day will determine whether Kenya becomes cleaner and all-round resilient.
The writer is the commercial director at Pwani Oil Products Limited