Recycling à la Camerounaise: Necessity and Invention
A humorous inventory of how ordinary Cameroonians repurpose waste materials—from plastic bottles to old slippers—turning refuse into everyday utility through ingenuity born of necessity rather than environmental consciousness.
Earlier today, we had the opportunity to talk about Monique Ntumngia and her activities. One of which involves turning waste into biogas and so it seemed fitting that I brought back this article I wrote the last year.
Cameroon is a signatory to many climate accords; from the Paris Accords to the ones meant to roll back the desertification of parts of sub-Saharan Africa, the Lake Change Basin Commission; you name it.
But as usual, most things in Cameroon die on paper as little is done to effectively enforce the engagements that have been undertaken to make them come to life. For that reason, ordinary Cameroonians like me and you have come up with our way to tackle these issues either by accident or by necessity.
So here’s how Cameroonians are aiding the planet through recycling.
PLASTIC BOTTLES: Those that do not end up in the gutters and streams end up being used for something else. The 1.5L bottles usually become decanters; either for palm oil or bleached oil. The smaller plastic bottles are used to sell folere and yoghurt. I saw a video about plastic bottles being used somewhere in Idenau to construct a boat. I don’t know how far that will go.
GLASS BOTTLES. They end up broken on the floor or on someone’s head after a bar fight. Very useful as an anti-theft mechanism when they are put on top of the concrete walls of the gate of houses. Not that it has ever dissuaded a thief but I guess it looks like it does something, so, why not?
EXERCISE BOOKS. Used in selling pof-pof, boiled groundnuts, corn and plum and a whole array of foodstuff. If you care for it, it can also be used for entertainment as you can read the essay of the student that scored 4/20 on the paper used to wrap up your groundnuts.
CVs: The CV you sent to a company can, unfortunately, end up in the hands of roadside roasted corn seller. In fact enh... if they do not take electronic CVs, do not apply there.
NEWSPAPERS: By default, they are used to sell bread. They are large and can carry up to six loaves at a time and at this time when plastic paper has been "banned," they are stapled together and turned into paper bags.
CEMENT PAPER: What would soya be without cement paper? Some people say if soya tastes the way it tastes, it’s because the cement residue on the paper adds an extra flavour to the meat. At some point in our lives, we will all start shitting bricks.
OVALTINE CONTAINER: Used in the kitchen for keeping egusi and groundnut.
OLD SLIPPERS/THONGS: Used to repair other slippers. Also used to make the tyres of 'boress'... those little to cars made with bamboo sticks.
DANISH COOKIES CONTAINERS: Used to store food in the freezer, as well as to keep sewing materials like needles and thread.
PLASTIC PAPER: Used to start fires when there is no kerosene.
SCRAP METAL: Used to make works of art. The njounjou kalaba at Rond Point Deido in Douala is the quintessential example.
CAR TYRES: Children’s toy for parents who cannot afford Nintendo and PlayStation. All they need is a stick and they are good to go.
OLD TV BOXES: Every electrician specialising in TV repair needs a signpost. What better one than an old TV tube or an empty plastic box?
Necessity is the mother of invention, right? What other recycling practice do you know of? Drop it in the comment section.
- Wandji Wilfred.
Written in 2019, this piece captures a moment when Cameroon, despite being signatory to major climate accords, saw little official enforcement of environmental commitments, leaving citizens to improvise their own solutions through cultural and practical adaptation.
The piece is both a loving portrait of Cameroonian resourcefulness and a wry comment on the gap between official climate pledges and lived reality. It reads now as a record of how communities generate sustainability not through top-down policy but through everyday wit and necessity—a tension that remains urgent.