shares
August 2021 – South Africa has no shortage of clean-up campaigns. From township initiatives to corporate-sponsored drives, we’ve seen countless efforts to sweep our streets, clear our parks, and restore dignity to our public spaces. And yet, the litter always returns, sometimes within hours. While these cleaning programs are of great importance, it’s clear that they only treat the symptom, the litter, without addressing the root cause: Why do we litter in the first place?
Littering is often dismissed as a minor civic nuisance, a symptom of poor service delivery or lack of infrastructure. But what if it’s more than that? What if our relationship with waste, how we discard it, ignore it, and live among it, reflects how we feel about ourselves and our country?
The psychological concept of a “depression room” describes a space that mirrors the mental state of its occupant: cluttered, neglected, dim. Often, the more chaotic the room becomes, the harder it is to find the energy to clean it, and the more it reinforces the occupant’s sense of despair.
So, what happens when the “depression room” isn’t just a bedroom, but an entire neighborhood, city, or township? What does the state of our communities say about our collective mental health? And how does it in turn, affect our ability to contribute meaningfully to society?
Our communities, especially in under-resourced areas, have become depressive rooms. And like anyone stuck in such a space, we begin to internalize the mess. We stop believing we deserve better. This is not to excuse the act of littering, but to understand it. Because understanding it is the first step toward finding a more sustainable solution.
Studies in environmental psychology have shown that people are more likely to litter in areas that are already dirty, a phenomenon known as the “broken windows theory.” When we see neglect, we assume no one cares. And when we assume no one cares, we stop caring too. This is how a single chip packet becomes a mountain of waste. Not because we lack bins, but because we lack belief, in our systems, in our communities, and in ourselves.
Another study in the in the U.S. found that women who described their homes as cluttered were more likely to experience depression and had higher levels of cortisol (the stress hormone) than those who saw their homes as restful and restorative. Another study surveying American and Canadian adults found that clutter had a direct negative impact on psychological well-being. These findings suggest that a cluttered space can be the cause of stress or depression AND that depression or stress can lead to a cluttered space.
In other words: do we litter because of the stresses in our lives and/or is the litter around us causing some of the stresses in our lives? I believe it’s both, and I believe understanding this is how we take our power back.
SIbonisile Cossa
Yes, our government has failed us in many ways. Service delivery is inconsistent. Infrastructure is crumbling. But if we concede defeat in the small things, like keeping our streets clean, what are we saying about our agency? About our power to shape the spaces where we raise our children, run our businesses, and build our futures?
We may not have control over so many of the things that go on in this country, but we cannot believe the lie that we are powerless against everything. Our immediate surroundings say so much about who we are, what we stand for and what we believe about ourselves.
This is not just about waste. It’s about wellness. A clean environment fosters dignity, safety, and hope. It tells a different story, one of care, of resilience, of people who refuse to be defined by dysfunction. Yes, let’s continue with the clean-up campaigns, but it is also time for us to clean the lens through which we see ourselves.
Let us ask not only how to stop littering, but why we ever started. Because when we get to the root of that question, we begin to heal more than just our streets. We begin to heal our sense of worth.
And that, more than any bin or broom, is what will sustain us.
