Kano State Climate Change Policy: A breath of fresh air or another paper tiger? By Fatima Damagum

When the Kano State Government recently launched its Climate Change Policy and Environmental Pollution and Waste Control Regulations (2025), it felt like a long-overdue sigh of relief. For once, environmental health, something that has been choking (pun intended) under the weight of burning plastic, clogged drains, and unplanned urban sprawl, got a seat at the table. A well-scrubbed, government-approved, officially-launched sea
But as with most good things in this part of the world, we are caught between cautious optimism and that familiar Nigerian skepticism: will it be implemented?
The newly released regulations cover a wide range of environmental issues: solid waste disposal, hazardous and healthcare waste management, stormwater drainage, sanitation obligations for residential, commercial, and public spaces, and penalties for offenders. It outlines responsibilities for almost every demographic—residents, traders, landlords, government institutions, construction companies, food vendors, and even event planners. This breadth shows the seriousness of the state’s intent, at least on paper.
Feeling mischievous, I sent soft copies of both the policy and environmental pollution and waste management law to my Suya guy Mallam Aliyu. The new regulations say he must “maintain hygiene at all times” and “dispose waste in designated bins.” When I asked Mallam Aliyu how the policy would affect him, he let out a long laugh and said with the characteristic arrogance of Nigerians ‘Don’t mind these people! I know how to handle them- a few sticks of tsire will make all their trouble go away’.
Let’s give credit where it’s due. The current administration under Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf has taken visible steps toward confronting the environmental realities of Kano. Among these steps is the reactivation and expansion of drainage channels across the metropolis. In places like Jakara, Kurna, and Fagge, major drainages that had been clogged with plastic waste and sand for years have been excavated to allow water to flow freely. This directly addresses the root causes of annual flooding that displace families, damage property, and increase the risk of waterborne diseases like cholera.
True to his word, Governor Yusuf has mandated the integration of climate considerations in infrastructural planning. New housing projects, such as those along Zaria Road and Eastern Bypass, are now required to include green spaces and proper water drainage systems. The governor’s recent partnership with international organizations to explore solar energy in rural health centers is another signal that the state is thinking beyond the short term.
But as is often the case in Nigeria, policies aren’t lacking implementation is. Past environmental efforts have stumbled at the altar of weak enforcement, limited funding, poor inter-agency coordination, and public resistance. Enforcement officers, for instance, are often poorly trained and under-equipped. It’s not uncommon to see sanitation inspectors who can’t differentiate between biodegradable and hazardous waste yet are tasked with upholding public health standards. Meanwhile, overlapping responsibilities between ministries of environment, health, and local government only breed confusion and inaction.
Then there’s the issue of public awareness—or the lack of it. Many residents still burn refuse in open spaces or dump it into canals, completely unaware of the environmental and health consequences. Traders at major markets like Sabon Gari and Kofar Wambai often prioritize convenience over compliance, piling garbage at corners and leaving the rest to ‘Allah ya isa.’ When enforcement teams do arrive, it’s often seen as a revenue-generating opportunity rather than a public health intervention. The consequence is predictable: noncompliance becomes normalized, and sanitation suffers.
One particularly commendable section of the new policy is the focus on healthcare waste (HCW) management. The regulation now mandates that healthcare waste be color-coded, segregated, treated, and transported by licensed operators. This is crucial in a state with hundreds of public and private health facilities generating potentially infectious waste daily. However, very few primary healthcare centers in Kano currently have the capacity to segregate or treat waste. Many still dispose of sharps and contaminated materials in communal bins or open pits, posing grave health risks to the public and to sanitation workers.
The same applies to hazardous waste regulation. Industries around Sharada and Challawa Industrial Estates frequently discharge untreated chemicals into surrounding canals. Despite the new laws requiring environmental audits and the use of anti-pollution technology, enforcement is weak. Industries often operate without scrutiny and continue polluting, knowing the chances of facing penalties are minimal. Until there is political will to enforce sanctions on corporate offenders—regardless of their influence or connection environmental degradation will persist.
Still, the policy is not without potential. If properly implemented, it could radically transform the health and economy of Northern Nigeria. Environmentally, it could reduce flooding, improve sanitation, and decrease the prevalence of respiratory and waterborne diseases. Medically, hospitals would see fewer cases of cholera, dysentery, and asthma attacks during the dry season. Economically, the promotion of recycling and the regulation of industrial waste could create thousands of green jobs for Kano’s teeming youth population.
So what’s the way forward? First, the state needs to invest heavily in public environmental education. Radio jingles in Hausa, drama skits, school campaigns, and community dialogues should become standard. Second, local governments must be empowered financially and administratively to take ownership of environmental enforcement. Third, the state should develop a digital dashboard to track policy implementation—number of waste bins installed, drainages cleared, enforcement visits conducted, and penalties issued.
Equally important is the need to incentivize good behavior. Traders who maintain clean stalls, landlords who provide waste bins, and neighborhoods that comply with recycling should be rewarded—publicly and materially. Recognition breeds repetition.
Above all, citizens must be made to feel like stakeholders, not spectators. If people see that environmental policies improve their daily lives—less flooding in their homes, fewer illnesses in their children—they will comply voluntarily.
Kano’s climate policy is a welcome breath of fresh air in a region gasping under environmental strain. But clean air doesn’t come from documents; it comes from action. Northern Nigeria cannot afford to ignore the environment any longer. We either enforce this policy or prepare for a future where drought, disease, and displacement become our daily reality.
So, dear policymakers, let this not be another case of “announce and abandon.” And to my fellow citizens: let’s stop waiting for miracles. Sweep your frontage. Separate your waste. Join a tree-planting exercise. Be part of the solution, not pollution.
First published in ‘A Physician’s Diary’, Daily Trust, 2nd Aug 2025.







