By Richard DABLAH
Email: richard.dablah@gmail.com
I received an update suggesting that the central government intends to engage Zoomlion to remove the heap of waste choking the Glefe Lagoon, with the material reportedly destined for IREPCO. When I received the message, I paused for a moment. Not out of scepticism alone, but out of surprise. The ease with which the solution was announced unsettled me. Trucks, removal, destination named — as though the problem had already been thought through. I found myself asking, quietly but insistently: Who is advising the government on this? What expertise sat in the room when this decision took shape? Not which contractor was available, but which understanding of living systems guided the choice. The confidence of the response suggested closure, yet nothing like the lagoon lends itself to closure. That dissonance — between certainty in action and uncertainty in design — lingered longer than the message itself.
I recalled having surveyed approximately 50 kilometers of coastline across the greater region in 2018, mapping waterways and shared drainage with colleagues Daniel Kabe, Ekeem Amanoo, and others. Those surveys made evident a truth often overlooked: lagoons, creeks, and tidal channels form a continuum, not isolated compartments. Water and sediment, waste and nutrients, move across these connected systems in ways that defy administrative boundaries. Waste accumulation in Glefe is therefore not merely a local problem; it is the visible consequence of systemic failure. Mismanagement upstream, unmonitored drains, and unregulated dumping create flows that no single removal operation can stop.
What is described as “waste at Glefe” is not a single, homogeneous substance. It is a complex assemblage: plastics embedded in silt, decomposing organic matter, anaerobic sludge, and chemical residues from years of neglect. To treat this mass as ordinary municipal solid waste is already to misname it. Names determine tools, destinations, and responsibility. IREPCO, conceived for dry, predictable waste streams, is structurally and operationally unsuited for such material. Waterlogged, biologically active sediment behaves differently: it generates leachate unpredictably, releases methane and ammonia, and risks overwhelming any downstream treatment designed for sorted refuse. Transporting it without prior stabilisation relocates environmental risk rather than neutralising it.
The deeper failure is conceptual. The intervention assumes that the problem is accumulation rather than flow. The lagoon filled not because it exists, but because upstream systems failed. Drains left untrapped, dumping paths left open, source separation never enforced — the causes persist. Any removal without controlling inflows guarantees repetition. The lagoon becomes a stage for recurring clean-ups, rather than a living system restored to balance.
Traffic management in its technical sense — control of water movement, waste movement, sediment movement, and human access — is absent. Intercepting waste before it enters the lagoon, slowing hydraulic flows, and designing physical deterrents against dumping are prerequisites. Bioremediation, likewise, is ignored. The lagoon is treated as dead matter to be scraped clean, yet it remains biologically active. Microbial communities, anaerobic digestion processes, and plant systems are stabilisers, not obstacles. Repair would involve oxygenation where collapse threatens, microbial augmentation where toxicity accumulates, and vegetation restoration to stabilise sediments. Emptying without such intervention is an illusion of remediation.
The choice to lead with trucks reveals an institutional habit: equipment exists, contracts exist, and files must close. Living systems do not recognise administrative completion; they respond only to cause and pressure. Convenience replaces expertise, and responsibility migrates quietly — from lagoon to landfill, from coast to hinterland, from today to tomorrow.
This is not an argument against removal where removal is warranted. It is an argument against mistaking removal for understanding. A lagoon is not a skip. A treatment plant is not a remedy for systemic failure. Visibility is not the same thing as recovery. Without upstream control, bioremediation, and proper traffic management, every operation will be a rehearsal, not a solution.
What remains unresolved is not technical knowledge — that exists in abundance. It is the willingness of the authority to redesign flows, accept friction, and prevent harm before spectacle demands it. Until that choice is made, waste will continue moving, and systems will fail politely, predictably, and silently.
Remotio mali, non causae.
The removal of the evil, not of its cause.