Lots of urban housing blocks in Kenya have garbage dumps at their door step. Kenyans typically dump polythene papers anywhere and everywhere (image: Compassion.com)
Yesterday evening, rather, at dusk, I came across a peculiar sight along Moi Avenue.
I spotted a slim guy, somewhere in his 50s (age, I mean, I already told you that he was along Moi Avenue). Being of Asian origin, his wavy black hair – the kind of hair that Kenyan women love, had lots of strands of white hair.
He was carrying with him a bag, or something, and what caught my attention – those clear plastic take-away lunch boxes.
As he proudly carried his lunch box in plain sight, remnants of the guy’s lunch were visible to all. Being a typical man, he seemed to have gobbled down everything other than the vegetables – a sizeable portion of cabbage still remained evidence of what had been his lunch.
Later, during the same evening I might have attracted some long stares of my own. The caretakers from my neighbouring blocks stared at me, letting their eyes do the talking.
My blocks caretaker preferred asking the question. Why was I carrying a bunch of tomatoes and a green bell pepper in my bare hands? I should have asked for a paper bag (polythene bag), like a normal man would do.
I did not ask for a paper bag. One does not even need to ask for one. I selected the tomatoes and a green bell pepper before paying for the same. Mama mboga had already handed me a clear polythene bag in which to put in my four acquisitions.
I rejected it.
She’s not the only one. Every time I go to buy chapatis, or a packet of milk, I have to stop the shopkeepers from placing the same in new paper bags by insisting that I already carried my own paperbag. It doesn’t matter that the milk comes in some polythene packaging or that the chapatis are first put into a clear polythene bag before the shopkeeper attempts putting them in a dark one.
At the shop where I buy my milk, it doesn’t matter that I already have another big paperbag with only a single item in it, the shopkeeper always offers me another one.
Back at my house, I arrived to find the person who collects my garbage had passed by. He’d left about 10 large polyethene bags under my door.
Normally, I do not accept polyethene bags from my garbage collector. First, my consumption is so low that it would take more than a month to fill one of those humongous paper bags.
Second, I have enough paper bags from supermarkets and other shops that can comfortably accommodate my trash, even if it means using more than one such paper bag to dispose my trash.
I already have enough of these paper bags. A typical visit to the supermarket yields more than one polyethene bag.
They will pack the soap in a separate paperbag, the milk in a different one, as if the two items are sickly items that need to be kept away from the rest of my shopping.
Nowadays, shops in middle class areas issue paper bags as if the same are naturally abundant like sunlight.
See, our current generation, besides been heavy and conspicuous consumers who buy stuff they is not really necessary, are also a demanding generation.
We feel that it is our right to be given paper bags for every item that we purchase, including a polythene bag itself. The shopkeepers just factor this in their pricing and provide a polythene bag for every item.
When we are done with whatever we bought, we discard the polythene bag where we are. Even wild animals put more thought as to where they dispose their waste, but not Kenyans.
I wish we used actual paper bags rather than the polythene bags. Yes, the fact that they are pricier may makes us pause and think if we need a second paper bag to place that single item.
Paper bags (made from paper) also rot, and are therefore more environment friendly. Additionally, to feed our insatiable demand for hiding tomatoes and chapatis in transit, more trees would have to be grown, which would in turn be good for our worsening environment.
So yes, I risked being seen by that beautiful neighbourhood girl, that one whose perfume was felt deep in my lungs the other day, carrying nyanyas in a manner not befitting a man of my status. I chose to do it in a manner befitting the environment and one that is not wasteful.
I am suffocating from paper bags in my house and everywhere. For every paper bag I don’t use, the freer I breathe.
Help me out, do not use a paper bag that you do not need, and reuse those that you already have.