Used Sanitary Pads in the Open: What Nigeria’s Menstrual Waste Problem Reveals

It is an uncomfortable sight, but one that is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

Along some roadsides, behind buildings, in bushes, drainage channels and around poorly maintained public toilets, used sanitary pads are sometimes discarded in the open. In some communities, they are mixed with household refuse; in others, they are flushed down toilets, buried, burnt or simply thrown into the nearest available dumping area.

The immediate reaction is often to blame women and girls for indiscriminate disposal.

But a closer look reveals a more complicated story.

Why are used sanitary pads ending up in public spaces? Are women deliberately ignoring proper waste-disposal practices, or are many communities failing to provide the facilities needed for safe

 menstrual-waste management?

And what happens to a girl who changes her pad at school when there is no covered bin in the toilet?

These questions expose a largely overlooked side of Nigeria's sanitation problem.

A 2025 study of female students living in Niger Delta Development Commission hostels found that menstrual-waste disposal was marked by several unsustainable practices, including burying, burning and flushing. The researchers linked these practices partly to inadequate disposal facilities and limited awareness of appropriate disposal methods.

The problem is not entirely new.

A UNICEF assessment of menstrual hygiene management in Nigerian secondary schools, covering schools in Anambra, Katsina and Osun States, found that specific disposal facilities for used menstrual materials were generally absent. The report documented cases where girls disposed of used materials in pit toilets, bushes, farms, dumping sites and other areas because appropriate facilities were lacking.

The evidence raises an uncomfortable question: how much of what is described as "indiscriminate dumping" is actually a failure of the waste-management system?

For a girl menstruating at school, the decision may be less straightforward than it appears. If the toilet has no covered sanitary bin, where is she expected to put a used pad? If the school has no reliable waste-collection system, what happens after the pad is placed in an ordinary bin?

Research among schoolgirls in Badagry, Lagos State, illustrates the problem.

 Researchers found that 43 per cent of students surveyed took used menstrual materials home, while 38 per cent reported disposing of them in sanitary bins at school. Some others flushed them down toilets. The study also found that a lack of sanitary bins particularly affected public-school students.

This means the visible pad on the roadside may be only the final stage of a much larger problem.

At the heart of the issue is infrastructure.

Menstrual hygiene does not end with providing girls with sanitary pads. The World Health Organization says menstrual health also requires access to appropriate water, sanitation, hygiene and waste-management facilities. It specifically identifies safe disposal of used menstrual materials as part of dignified menstrual health.

Yet recent research from Nasarawa West paints a worrying picture.

A 2026 study involving 25 secondary schools and 1,250 female students found that only about four in ten schools had functional water sources. Only 16 per cent had separate girls' toilets, while covered disposal bins were present in just 16 per cent of schools. None of the schools studied had a dedicated sanitary-waste disposal system or private changing spaces.

The findings suggest that asking girls to dispose of menstrual waste responsibly without providing the necessary facilities may be addressing only half of the problem.

There is also the weight of culture and secrecy.

Menstruation remains a subject many families find difficult to discuss openly.

 UNICEF's earlier assessment found that some girls and mothers were influenced by beliefs surrounding the disposal of used menstrual materials. In some communities, fears that menstrual materials could be misused by other people contributed to reluctance to dispose of them in public waste bins.

Such beliefs can push menstrual waste into less visible places.

But hiding the waste does not make the problem disappear.

When used pads are thrown into drainage channels, they become part of the larger solid-waste burden. When they are left in open spaces, they contribute to an unsanitary environment. When flushed down toilets, they can contribute to plumbing and sewage problems.

The environmental question is therefore inseparable from the sanitation question.

There is another group whose experience deserves attention: waste workers.

Every day, sanitation workers and informal waste collectors handle refuse discarded by households, schools, markets and offices. When sanitary materials are mixed carelessly with other waste, workers may have to deal with them without adequate separation or protective systems.

This raises a fundamental question for local authorities and waste-management agencies: where is menstrual waste supposed to go?

Is there a clearly communicated disposal policy? Are schools required to provide covered sanitary bins? How frequently are those bins emptied? Who collects the waste? Where is it finally taken? And are waste workers adequately protected?

These are questions that should be answered by institutions responsible for sanitation rather than left entirely to individual women and girls.

The solution also cannot be reduced to public shaming.

Education has an important role. Girls need accurate information about menstrual hygiene and safe disposal.

 Boys and men also need to understand menstruation so that menstrual waste is not treated as something shameful that must simply disappear from sight.

Schools need private toilets, water, handwashing facilities and covered bins specifically designed for menstrual waste. Communities need reliable waste collection. Local governments need to incorporate menstrual waste into broader sanitation planning.

Most importantly, menstrual hygiene should be treated as a public-health and environmental issue rather than merely a women's issue.

The used pad lying beside a road may be unpleasant to see. But it should also be seen as evidence of something larger: a system in which menstruation is often discussed in whispers while the infrastructure required to manage it safely is overlooked.

The question, therefore, should not simply be, "Why are women dumping used pads indiscriminately?"

The more revealing questions are: Where are women expected to dispose of them? Who provides the bins? Who collects the waste? How often is it collected? What happens to it afterwards? And why are these systems absent in places where menstrual hygiene is a monthly reality?

Until those questions are answered, the problem will remain easy to blame on individuals and much harder to solve.

A used sanitary pad in a bush is not just a piece of litter. It can be a small, visible sign of a much larger gap in sanitation, infrastructure, education and public policy.

Aviashima Toom, Environmental Journalist