From Short Put to Full Potential: Reframing Hygiene and Hope
It was something I hoped to never witness again yet there I stood, in Ijebu-Jesa, a small town tucked away in Osun State, watching history repeat itself. Kids were tearing pages from exercise books, carefully laying them on the dusty ground to defecate, then dump it in the bush—something we call the "short put method." It was the same disturbing scene I had experienced decades ago as a young boy in boarding school.
But here’s the troubling part: these children didn't look distressed. They weren't embarrassed. They accepted it. And that acceptance terrified me more than the act itself.
When your everyday routine involves searching for privacy in overgrown bushes, dodging snakes and insects, hygiene stops being a basic right. It becomes a gamble with health, dignity, and self-worth. What struck me most was how easily these kids had normalized it, as if this was simply how life was meant to be.
Nigeria is bursting with creative potential. Our cultural icons from Osun State—Gbenga Adeboye, Mayorkun, Chief Duro Ladipo—embody a spirit that turns scarcity into ingenuity. As a kid, I saw classmates take apart broken radios and piece together portable speakers. Yet how many brilliant minds lose their spark simply because their environment sends a daily message: your comfort and dignity are not priorities?
We all know the saying: “Naija no dey carry last.” It's our badge of resilience. But there's a flip side. That same spirit can lead some toward creativity and others into desperation. Without access to clean water, safe toilets, and a healthy learning environment, a child’s natural ingenuity is too often redirected into survival strategies. Some succeed despite the odds, but others lose hope, trading long-term dreams for short-term escape.
Psychologists call it environmental determinism “the idea that our surroundings shape who we become”. UNICEF data shows schools without proper sanitation can see dropout rates jump by nearly 20%. Chronic illness, shame, and anxiety quietly reshape young minds, limiting their belief in what's possible.
But change is possible. One clean toilet, a safe water source, and a basic hygiene lesson can shift everything. Children stop accepting substandard conditions. They start expecting better. Teachers take pride in cleaner classrooms. The ripple effects go far beyond hygiene—they touch self-esteem, focus, and long-term mental health.
After we held a hygiene seminar at a local primary school, I remember the headteacher's words as I prepared to leave: “On behalf of the school and kids, we say thank you sir, and our helpers from diaspora. God will continue to bless you.”
Those words sat with me, not just as thanks, but as a reminder of the work still to be done.
So, let me ask you to reflect. No pitch, no pressure. Just think back to your school days, or your child’s school. Picture the difference a dignified environment makes. Now imagine how many children in towns like Ijebu-Jesa still don't have that.
We owe these children more than survival. We owe them a future they can be proud of.
If you share the belief that every child deserves a safe and clean environment for learning, we invite you to join us.
We welcome your thoughts and invite you to contact us if you wish to learn more about our work.
How You Can Help
Donate: Your contributions allow us to expand this program to more schools.
By: Tolulope Adebajo
Project Director
Digging Well Foundation, Nigeria
Email: tolu.adebajo@diggingwell.org