Two years ago, in what can only be described as brazenly draconian and callous decision, the governor of Borno State, Prof. Babagana Umara Zulum, slammed a ban on metal scavenging activities across all 27 local government areas of the state.
In the twinkle of an eye, millions whose daily bread depended on scrap recycling were left stranded, economically bruised and socially abandoned.
What a bitter irony, a Professor, a man of enlightenment, who should be a custodian of livelihoods and human dignity, instead opted for the sledgehammer over dialogue. Rather than regulate, he eradicated. Rather than innovate, he annihilated a booming industry that not only fed households but also fattened Nigeria’s GDP with a robust ₦60 billion annual contribution, according to the Federal Ministry of Mines and Steel Development.
A Metal Ban That Bent the Backbone of the Poor:
Governor Zulum’s metal scavenging ban may have been dressed in the garb of security concerns; a favourite excuse among our ruling elite, but what it truly achieved was economic asphyxiation of the state’s most vulnerable citizens. Imagine dismantling an entire sector employing thousands of informal waste pickers, welders, transporters, sorters, engineers, and machine operators, all caught in the governor’s policy crossfire.
In a state plagued by insurgency, unemployment, and displacement, one would expect a government policy to cushion, not compound the people’s pain. Yet, the ban did precisely the latter. It ripped the rug from beneath the feet of men, women, and youths who had carved out a dignified survival in a nation that offers so little.
To call this decision tone-deaf would be putting it mildly. It was a socioeconomic thunderbolt, one that crumpled micro-economies, shattered family incomes, and snuffed out hope from the lungs of the working poor.
Steel and Stone: Borno’s Wasted Industrial Potential
Borno State isn’t just a victim, it’s a missed opportunity. The Steel Rolling Company alone employs over 5,000 people. Its supply chain sustains 400 informal workers. Yet, instead of leveraging this industrial asset, Governor Zulum’s administration wielded a policy axe, cleaving through a value chain that helps Nigeria reduce its annual $3.3 billion steel import bill.
It was projected that by 2026, Borno State with a steel firm, is expected to export over 1,500 metric tons of processed scrap metals, quality ingots into markets in China, Vietnam, India, and even Germany. This is no backyard hustle. This will be a strategic export sector, one that plugs Nigeria into the veins of global industrial supply chains.
And yet, with the stroke of a governor’s pen, the sector was bulldozed into economic oblivion. Not a word of regret. Not a whimper of review. Just silence. Chilling, unrepentant silence.
Zulum’s policy didn’t just shrink Borno’s economy, it stifled cross-border trade. Scrap metals flowing from Chad, Cameroon, and Niger Republic once found their way through Borno’s arteries into Nigeria’s industrial veins. With the ban, the lifeblood dried up. Processing companies packed their bags and crossed the border into friendlier, saner climes like Niger and Chad. That, dear readers, is how you kill an industry with policy naiveté.
Of Dirty Streets and Clean Profits
Scrap recycling isn’t just about industry, it’s about environment. It cleans streets, reduces urban clutter, diverts waste from landfills, and prevents toxic metals from leaching into the soil. UNDP research shows that recycling one ton of steel saves 1.1 tonnes of iron ore — a major win for sustainability. But Zulum threw the environmental baby out with the economic bathwater.
From Lagos to Oyo, states are tapping into the transformative power of recycling. Why then is Borno choosing regression over innovation? While other states are creating industrial parks, training youth in welding and metallurgy, and collaborating with recyclers to build circular economies, Borno is choosing to sweep its recyclers under the rug.
A Government Missing in Action:
Since the ban, there’s been no institutional support, no alternative job schemes, no compensation, nothing. Just the eerie silence of a government that has chosen optics over outcomes.
Meanwhile, in Western Nigeria, especially places like Ogun and Lagos States, metal recycling hubs hum with productivity, jobs, and export revenues.
Chrisfanok Metals in Sagamu handles over 10,000 tons of scrap monthly. Romco in Lekki processes aluminum and copper for export. In Ibadan, Moonshine Recycling supports hundreds of informal collectors through micro-loans and cooperatives.
Where is Borno’s equivalent effort? Where is Zulum’s visionary plan to rehabilitate, regulate or integrate scavengers into a formal recycling framework? Alas, none exists. Because this isn’t governance, it’s governance gone rogue.
Prof. Zulum must be reminded that governance is not about hammering down dissent or bulldozing livelihoods. It’s about balancing security with social sustainability. You don’t burn the entire forest because of a few sick trees.
The people of Borno deserve better. They deserve a governor who listens, who adapts, who feels the pulse of his people. A governor who sees value in their hustle.
If Nigeria is to industrialise sustainably, if we are to meet our climate goals, empower our youth, and escape the claws of underdevelopment, metal recycling must be embraced, not exterminated. And Borno must not be left behind in this national imperative.
Final Scrap: Pick Up the Pieces, Zulum
It’s high time Prof. Zulum picked up the pieces of a broken policy and restore dignity to thousands of scrap-dependent families. He must repeal the ban, institute a framework of regulation and safety, and partner with recyclers to build a future that is both green and golden.
For in the scrap heaps of Borno lies buried not just metal, but also hope. And it’s high time that hope was excavated, not exiled. Let Borno recycle not just metals, but also its broken trust in governance.
~ Mantu, a Journalist, writes from Abuja and can be reached via 08067497024 and [email protected].
