Littering

I picked up an empty can, off the street, the other day after seeing three people kick it. It was crumpled and torn and only a few feet away from a rubbish bin. It seemed the sensible thing to do although one woman was heard to exclaim, ‘Eww...that’s dirty!’

It brought to mind two recent interactions.

The first was with a snooty lady in a dog park. I was there with Cara and Millie. Cara being the massive trouble maker that she is was off the lead and following behind Millie, who was on lead, and I. About half way across the pack I noticed that Cara had stopped to go to the loo, so I slowed my pace but kept walking, with the intention of cleaning it up once she was done. A large woman was walking towards me, smoking a cigarette but without a dog, and as she got closer, she inhaled deeply and asked in a very terse tone, ‘Are you aware that your dog is doing a poop?’ Yes, I kid you not, she used the word ‘poop’.

‘Yes, I am’.

‘Are. You. Going. To. Clean. It. Up?’

‘Yes, I am’. I nodded and smiled as I spoke.

‘Then why aren’t you watching?’ Another massive inhale saw a third of the cigarette length turn to ash.

‘Do you like to be watched while you have a poo?’ It seemed a fair question, I know I don’t and I know Cara doesn’t. She gets performance anxiety and tries to walk away from it. It doesn’t work and you end up with a trail of bunny balls. Millie didn’t care who watched, she was quite proud of the massive piles she produced.

The woman took exception at my question, and huffed and puffed away from me, her arms beating the air, no doubt imagining it was me. Then she threw her cigarette butt to the ground before stomping on it. I pulled a small blue bag from my pocket and scooped up the tiny dropping Cara had deposited.

She didn’t hear my say. ‘Are you going to pick up that piece of litter that can take up to ten years to break down, whereas this tiny poo will be gone in about three days if I left it?’.

The second conversation was with the fruit seller guy outside my office in the city. I don’t know how we got away from bruised cherries, and how to squeeze peaches in just the right way, to rubbish, but he said to me, ‘if every person picked up just one piece of litter a day, can you imagine how quickly the streets would be clear?’

I’m not completely innocent of dropping litter, but I will say that I try never to drop something that will not decompose or been take by nature. I had it drummed into me by Muv from a very young age, Don’t litter. I’ll happily chuck an apple core into the bushes, although I mostly eat them down to the woody bit anyway. I’ll pour excess fluid onto the grass or into the gutter and I had no hesitation throwing New Moon out of the car window (it’s paper, it’ll mulch, it’s half-way there already), but plastics go in the pocket or bag until I find a bin. I’ll often turn down bags when shopping, which confuses check-out folks, because putting items in a bag is part of the training.

There have been anti-littering campaigns, signs and fines all around the world for decades. No matter what the powers that be do or say, people are essentially a lazy bunch that expects someone else to clean up after them; ever been in a cinema or theatre after the performance has ended, a sports arena at the end of the game, a picnic ground at the end of the day? Take that packet, drinks carton, pie case and pop it in the bin on the way out. At the very least put it next to the bin as I saw happening after a Rugby Tri Nations game in South Africa. The bins were full, so rather than leaving bottles on walls, by flag poles, smashed on the ground, etc., they made it easy to clean up by gathering it all in one place. Of course, they could have as easily taken it home.

Please don’t litter, but don’t judge those who you think are, you may just find you’re just as guilty in their eyes. Littering is a dirty issue and only we can fix it by taking our rubbish home with us.


An example of littering in Lagos, Nigeria