From Trash to Thread: The Unsuspected Cost of Textile Waste in Nairobi

What does textile —or mtumba, as we know it in Kenya—have to do with health? Or better yet, what does a ‘Zennial’ (you’ll be surprised what this means!) like me have to do with dumpsites and smoke-filled air? The answer is as simple as it gets: we wear these clothes, we use them—often recycling them as dusters in our homes—and then what happens after that? Where does it all go?

These questions led me on a journey to Dandora, Nairobi’s largest dumpsite, to see for myself what happens when our second-hand clothing imports and local textile discards reach the end of their life. What I found was not just waste, but a community grappling with invisible health consequences and, at the same time, crafting innovative solutions.

The first thing that strikes you in Dandora is not the sight of the towering heaps of waste—it is the air. Heavy, acrid, and smoky, it clings to your lungs like a damp cloth. Fires fuelled by textile waste release a dangerous cocktail of toxins, from dioxins to fine particulate matter that seep into bloodstreams, triggering chronic coughs, asthma, eye irritations, throat infections, and even long-term respiratory and cardiovascular disease. Children laugh and play near mounds of waste, but their joy is punctuated by persistent coughing fits. Families struggle with recurring asthma and respiratory illnesses that weigh down household health and income.

But amidst the smoke, I also found innovation.

Not for from the dumpsite, at the workshop of Africa Collect Textile (ACT), co-founder Alex Musembi and his team are turning discarded fabric into something remarkable. Instead of being burned, waste is reborn as bags, rugs, and jackets—symbols of a circular economy in action. ACT has created over 40 jobs, mostly for women from the Dandora community, replacing dangerous waste-picking with dignified, creative livelihoods. “Every shirt we save from burning,” Musembi told me, “…is a few grams less particulate matter in someone’s lungs.”

The connection between waste and wellness is profound. ACT doesn’t just prevent environmental damage; it actively reduces the health risks associated with unmanaged textile waste. For Rose, the operations supervisor at ACT, the work is deeply personal—she lost a close friend’s mother to respiratory disease caused by prolonged exposure to Dandora’s smoke. Today, she not only supervises upcycling operations but also educates peers on the links between waste management and disease prevention, becoming a local champion of climate and health.

At the policy level, this journey also became deeply personal. During my undergraduate years, I sat in Dr. Chiawo’s class at Strathmore University learning about the Environmental Impacts of Pollution. Not so many years later, here I was—sitting on the other side of the table, interviewing him for my project. It was a full-circle moment.

In our conversation, Dr. Chiawo emphasized something striking: Kenya already has some of the best environmental and climate policies in the region. The Climate Change Act (2016), the National Climate Change Action Plan, and the Extended Producer Responsibility Regulations (2022) are robust frameworks. But as he clearly framed it, the problem lies not in policy creation but in implementation and public awareness. “As Kenyans,” he told me, “We have a no responsibility attitude towards textile products, especially once they leave our wardrobes. We forget that what we discard still carries a cost.”

That gap—between good policy on paper and weak implementation in practice—explains why communities like Dandora continue to suffer. Without connecting environmental enforcement to public health outcomes, the cycle of waste, smoke, and sickness continues.

At the Kenya Climate Innovation Center (KCIC), I saw how bridging these gaps is possible. KCIC supports start-ups like ACT with financial literacy, market linkages, and training that enables them to thrive. Importantly, KCIC also educates entrepreneurs on navigating policy frameworks, ensuring that climate innovation is not just a good idea but a sustainable business. Linking these innovations with carbon markets has already shown promise—Kenya generates about 4.5 million carbon credits annually, valued at $77 million, and connecting these credits to health outcomes could unlock new pathways for financing public health through climate action.

From the smoke of Dandora to the sewing machines at ACT, from the insights of policy experts to the scaling support of KCIC, I have witnessed what I call a ‘full chain of change’. It is a story of problem, innovation, policy, and scaling—woven together to create cleaner air, healthier lungs, stronger livelihoods, and sustainable futures.

For me, this project is more than another exciting story to tell—it is a call to action. By weaving together fashion, health, innovation, and policy, we can tell Kenya’s story of turning trash to thread—where every discarded fabric becomes part of a healthier hope for our future.

Article by: Judith Adhiambo Amolo