How garbage miners are surviving the Dandora dumpsite

By Daisy Okiring

At sunrise, a smoky haze blankets Dandora in Nairobi’s Embakasi Sub-County.

Amid the mountains of decaying waste, dozens of figures move like shadows—adults and children, faces wrapped in cloths against the toxic air, scavenging desperately for plastic bottles, metal scraps, or even edible leftovers. Here, survival is not found in gold or fortune but in garbage.

Each day, more than 2,000 metric tonnes of waste are dumped at Dandora Dumpsite—the largest and most toxic landfill in East Africa. This site, declared full back in 2001, continues to swallow Nairobi’s waste unchecked, with devastating consequences for both the environment and the thousands who depend on it for their livelihood.

Despite promises to decommission Dandora, a combination of political inertia, poverty, and weak environmental governance has left the mountain of trash—and its community of garbage miners—growing ever larger.

A toxic lifeline: scavenging for survival

For thousands of Nairobians, scavenging at Dandora is the only available form of employment. Women, men, and children comb through hazardous heaps without protective gear, hoping to collect recyclables like plastics, metals, and glass.

Each kilo of plastic may earn them a few shillings—barely enough to buy a meal.

 “We are not garbage; we are survivors,” says Margaret, a 32-year-old mother of three, who has scavenged at Dandora for nearly a decade.

Children often skip school to work at the dumpsite. In surrounding estates like Kariobangi and Korogocho, poverty is so dire that some families even encourage their children to scavenge instead of study.

According to a 2018 study by Edward Ochieng Gumo, over 60% of solid waste in Nairobi ends up either uncollected or improperly disposed of, perpetuating a vicious cycle of poverty, pollution, and poor health.

The hidden environmental catastrophe

The environmental impact of Dandora is staggering.

Heavy metals such as lead and cadmium have been found at dangerously high levels—lead levels of 13,500 ppm, compared to safe standards of 150 ppm.

Nearby rivers, including the Nairobi River, are heavily polluted as waste leaches into water systems, contaminating soil and crops.

A 2018 spatial analysis study confirmed the unchecked expansion of illegal dumpsites around Nairobi, especially in Embakasi. Between 2003 and 2017, the spatial coverage of unplanned dumpsites increased from 7.35 hectares to 16.94 hectares.

Nairobi County, despite housing UNEP’s global headquarters just 8 km away, remains a grim example of environmental mismanagement.

The health toll: Breathing death

Dandora is not just an environmental disaster—it is a human tragedy.

Respiratory infections, skin diseases, gastrointestinal illnesses, and cancers are rampant.

A UNEP-commissioned study revealed that among 328 children tested near the dumpsite, 154 suffered from serious respiratory conditions.

Read more: The human cost of water pollution in Kenya’s lakes

Similarly, medical records from a local dispensary showed 9,121 cases of respiratory tract illnesses recorded between 2003 and 2006.

Children, with their developing lungs, are especially vulnerable.

 “Sometimes you cannot see inside the classrooms because of the smoke,” says Dalton Okoth, a student at St. John’s School near Dandora.

This is life where even breathing can kill—and yet, the garbage miners persist, trapped by necessity.

Garbage as economy: A billion-shilling informal industry

The informal recycling economy at Dandora sustains thousands.

It is estimated that scavengers recover about 20% of Nairobi’s waste. Scrap dealers, often operating informally, buy plastics, metals, and paper from garbage miners at exploitative prices.

A scavenger earns approximately KSh 100–300 ($0.80–$2.50) per day—barely enough to survive. Meanwhile, recyclers and brokers higher up the chain make far more.

Despite its critical role, this informal system is largely unrecognized by Nairobi’s waste management policies.

Broken promises: Why Dandora still lives

In 2012, the Nairobi City County decommissioned Dandora on paper. But practical action stalled, partly due to conflicts between the county and the Kenya Airports Authority over the proposed relocation to Ruai.

The Stockholm Convention on hazardous pollutants, ratified by Kenya, demands urgent action—but political will has been lacking.

Organizations such as UNEP, National Environmental Management Authority (NEMA), and local coalitions like the Inter-Religious Committee Against Dandora Dumpsite have raised alarms. Yet, as of 2025, waste continues to pile up, toxins continue to leak, and the human cost continues to grow.

Flickers of hope: Local initiatives and resistance

Some hope is rising from within the community.

Recycling cooperatives have emerged, and advocacy groups led by residents push for better waste management and the closure of the dumpsite.

Training programs in waste separation and recycling are beginning to offer alternatives.

A slogan by a local committee captures the spirit:

Read more: When gold turns poison: Artisanal mining in Western Kenya

“The society equally needs to be endowed with adequate environmental etiquette. We must ensure our neighborhoods are clean.”

However, without greater government support, better funding, and public participation, these initiatives remain small against the enormity of the problem.

A battle for breath and dignity

Dandora’s garbage miners are the silent casualties of environmental injustice—a form of what experts have called “environmental racism,” where the poorest bear the worst pollution.

Surviving each day is an act of resilience. Yet, real change will require more than resilience; it will require a commitment to environmental justice, solid waste reform, and human dignity.

Until then, the people of Dandora will continue to mine mountains of waste—for life, for hope, and for a future they deserve.