Opinion

Plastics, Environmental Catastrophes

Published

2 years ago

February 14, 2024

Single-use plastic pollution is ubiquitous and tangible – we can see it on our beaches, roadsides and waterways, and it is even in the seafood we eat and the tap water we drink. Today, there are endless creative initiatives to help limit plastic pollution, from grassroots beach cleans to campaigns for plastic-free supermarket aisles. The momentum sky-rocketed when the final episode of BBC One’s Blue Planet II, which highlighted global plastic pollution for just six minutes, was watched by 11.91 million people – the highest ever recorded ratings for any Nature programme. In 2018, ‘single-use’ was named Word of the Year by Collins Dictionary while ‘plastic’ was Oxford Dictionaries’ Children’s Word of the Year. Once hailed as a wonder material, plastic is the biggest threat to our planet – or so, some press coverage would like us to believe. As a result, it is arguably the most engaging environmental catastrophe of our time. But are people seeing the bigger picture?
The current wave of interest in plastic pollution shares many factors with the alarming discovery of the hole in the ozone layer over Antarctica in the mid-1980s and the subsequent successful engagement of industry, governments and consumers. This protective layer has significantly recovered since the phase-out of chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs) 30 years ago, after the groundbreaking Montreal Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone Layer was agreed by leading industrial nations in 1987. George Marshall, founder of Climate Outreach and author of Don’t Even Think About It: Why Our Brains Are Wired to Ignore Climate Change, said: “There was an obvious cause and effect – it was possible to reduce our usage of CFCs found in aerosols and refrigerants, and manufacturers could stop producing these nasty chemicals in the first place.”
Marshall studies how people engage psychologically with climate change. He explains: “That was a very well-constructed problem for us to deal with – it was still complex to understand but more manageable than climate change and similar to single-use plastics in that people could visualise and make sense of it. “Climate change is really an economic and social problem with moral and political complexities – it is about human rights and armed conflict and so many things. Plastic is in that environmental category, and more deservedly so, but the danger is that people feel they have ticked that environmental box by reducing plastic pollution.”All the things that make the plastics issue strong make garnering action against climate change weak, according to Marshall. Plastic is something that we hold in our hands, it’s here and now, the impact is immediate, and we can all make direct behavioural changes to reduce that.
Marshall argues that with climate change, there is no direct immediate connection and that the notion that something you do now will affect something else in some complex way in the future is vague and so a big problem. The plastic backlash has worked well because it has a really good line-up of the qualities that motivate people: “We have got a trusted communicator, Sir David Attenborough, who played a key role in kicking this off, it is tangible, you can mobilise your own community to help pick up plastic and reduce waste, and it feels like you can do good.”Marshall explains that there are three fundamental reasons why it is hard to get people’s attention on climate change: “Firstly, people have a very limited ‘pool of worry’, so if a problem captures our attention, that displaces something else because we only have a certain mental capacity to worry about issues.”Secondly, we display ‘single-action bias’ – this is the tendency to take on one single activity with the belief that we have resolved something bigger.” Psychologists hypothesise that this has evolved so that we do not worry too much, but face up to problems, solve them, and then move on. The third and final danger is ‘moral licence’: “In order to maintain your sense of being a good person, you adopt an activity that you consider to be good and then use that as an internal justification for something that is not good. This subconscious offsetting is very common, and recycling behaviour is a classic example.”
We need to tip the balance of public awareness in issues like palm oil and ocean acidification and be smart in the way we tell the story so that people can relate to it, says Nick Clark, an environment correspondent. “The question is on how we set about covering this story to engage a public fatigued and confused by the climate change ‘debate’ that has been drummed up by those who want to obfuscate the story.”Clark continues: “It is essential we cover the first world too, not only Bangladesh and the Pacific islands. Just look at the California wildfires, Florida floods and coastal erosion, the hurricanes blowing in. How will that affect us all?”Guy Singh-Watson, founder of Riverford Organic Farmers, said: “We are on the brink of environmental catastrophe, and the most important thing is that nothing distracts us from climate change – plastic in the oceans is a tragedy, but not on the same scale as climate change. “People might feel they have done their bit by reducing plastic, and we are intrinsically lazy, so the changes we are prepared to make must really matter.”But that is not to say Singh-Watson has lost all hope.
“We keep using stuff and throwing it away – that is the mentality we need to fundamentally change, and now there seems to be significant impetus behind it.” He believes that change can be fast, especially when big business gets behind it. “Just as the transition from horses to cars took just 10 years in 1900s America, today, there is a rapid revolution happening with electric cars because the car industry has got behind it.” Plastic pollution has a powerful narrative that has the potential to open the gateway to real public understanding of fossil fuels and encourage us to switch from the ‘take-make-dispose’ linear model to a more sustainable, circular economy that inspires us to consider our overall carbon footprint and look at the bigger, global picture.

Anna Turns

Anna Turns is a freelance journalist and founder of Plastic Clever Salcombe, a Kids Against Plastic Campaign.

Opinion

Curbing Youth Unemployment In Nigeria

Published

17 hours ago

March 30, 2026

The Tide

Quote: “A nation that fails to empower its youth risks mortgaging its future.”

Youth, generally defined as individuals between the ages of 15 and 35, represent a critical phase of human development—a transition from adolescence to adulthood marked by ambition, energy, and the pursuit of purpose. In Nigeria, this demographic constitutes a significant proportion of the population, making it one of the country’s greatest assets. However, this strength is increasingly undermined by a persistent and troubling challenge: youth unemployment.

Unemployment, the condition of being without gainful employment despite the willingness and ability to work, remains a major global concern. In Nigeria, however, it has reached alarming levels, particularly among young people. With estimates suggesting that a substantial percentage of Nigerian youth are either unemployed or underemployed, the consequences have become deeply embedded in the nation’s social and economic fabric.

The impact of youth unemployment is both widespread and severe. Economically, it leads to increased poverty levels and reduced productivity. Socially, it fuels frustration, hopelessness, and disillusionment among young people. This often manifests in rising rates of crime, cyber fraud, substance abuse, and involvement in political violence. When young people are unable to find legitimate means of livelihood, they may become vulnerable to negative influences, posing a threat not only to themselves but to society at large.

One of the primary drivers of youth unemployment in Nigeria is the inadequacy of the educational system. While many young Nigerians graduate from tertiary institutions each year, a significant number lack the practical and technical skills required in today’s job market. The disconnect between academic curricula and industry demands leaves graduates ill-prepared for employment, thereby widening the gap between education and employability.

Furthermore, Nigeria’s heavy dependence on the oil sector has contributed significantly to the unemployment crisis. Over the years, this reliance has led to the neglect of other critical sectors such as agriculture, manufacturing, and technology—sectors that have the potential to generate large-scale employment. The failure to diversify the economy has limited job opportunities and stifled innovation, leaving many young people without viable career paths.

In addition, rapid population growth continues to put immense pressure on the labor market. Each year, thousands of graduates enter the workforce, but the number of available jobs remains insufficient to absorb them. This imbalance creates intense competition for limited opportunities, leaving many qualified individuals unemployed for extended periods.

Access to finance also remains a major barrier for young Nigerians who wish to venture into entrepreneurship. Despite the creativity and entrepreneurial spirit that many youths possess, the lack of access to credit facilities, mentorship, and business support systems makes it difficult for them to establish and sustain their own enterprises. This challenge is further compounded by infrastructural deficits, such as unreliable power supply and limited access to technology.

Security challenges across various parts of the country have also worsened the situation. In some regions, economic hardship and lack of opportunities have made young people susceptible to recruitment into violent or extremist activities. This not only exacerbates insecurity but also diverts the energy of the youth away from productive engagement.

Addressing youth unemployment in Nigeria requires a comprehensive and collaborative approach. The government must take the lead by implementing policies that promote economic diversification, particularly by investing in agriculture, manufacturing, and the digital economy. These sectors hold immense potential for job creation and can absorb a large portion of the unemployed youth population.

Equally important is the reform of the educational system to emphasize skill acquisition, vocational training, and entrepreneurship. Schools and institutions must align their curricula with market needs, ensuring that graduates are equipped with relevant and practical skills. Public-private partnerships can play a vital role in facilitating internships, apprenticeships, and job placement programs.

The private sector also has a crucial role to play in driving job creation and innovation. By investing in youth-focused initiatives and supporting startups, businesses can help unlock the potential of young Nigerians. Additionally, financial institutions should develop more accessible and youth-friendly credit schemes to support small and medium-sized enterprises.

On an individual level, young people must embrace self-development, adaptability, and continuous learning. In an increasingly competitive and evolving global economy, acquiring digital skills, engaging in vocational training, and exploring entrepreneurial opportunities can significantly improve employability.

In conclusion, youth unemployment remains one of the most pressing challenges facing Nigeria today. However, it is not an insurmountable problem. With deliberate policies, strategic investments, and collective action from government, the private sector, and individuals, Nigeria can transform its youth population into a powerful engine of growth and development. By empowering young people with opportunities, skills, and resources, the nation can secure a more prosperous and stable future.

IVARA Favour Isaac is a student of Pan-African Institute of Management and Technology.

By: Ivara Favour Isaac

Opinion

Ozoro Festival: Tradition or Tyranny?

Published

17 hours ago

March 30, 2026

The Tide

Quote:“These images are not merely disturbing; they represent a direct assault on human dignity, bodily autonomy, and the rule of law.”

In recent days, national attention has turned to the small community of Ozoro in Delta State, where what was once described as a cultural fertility rite—the Alue-Do Festival—has become the subject of outrage, grief, and urgent national reflection. According to accounts from notable indigenes of Ozoro and the Isoko ethnic group, the festival was originally conceived as a symbolic ritual intended to bless couples struggling with conception. In theory, it was meant to celebrate life, continuity, and communal identity. However, what reportedly unfolded on March 22 bore no resemblance to any noble cultural ideal. Videos circulating widely on social media show groups of men chasing women, forcibly stripping them, and subjecting them to sexual assault in public spaces. These images are not merely disturbing; they represent a direct assault on human dignity, bodily autonomy, and the rule of law.

They compel us to confront a difficult but necessary question: when does tradition cease to be culture and become tyranny? It is encouraging that prominent voices—including the First Lady, the Minister of Women Affairs, human rights organisations, and women’s advocacy groups—have condemned these barbaric acts. The Delta State Government has since banned the Alue-Do Festival, while law enforcement authorities have reportedly made arrests. Yet beyond the immediate outrage lies a deeper and more uncomfortable conversation—one that communities across the country must confront honestly: the thin line between culture and abuse. “Culture is not static—it evolves, or at least, it should.” Culture is often described as the soul of a people, encompassing traditions, beliefs, and practices passed down through generations. Nigeria is richly endowed with diverse cultural heritage, much of which we rightly celebrate.

However, when culture becomes a shield for harmful practices, it loses its moral authority. When actions that violate fundamental human rights are justified in the name of tradition, we must ask: whose culture is this, and at what cost? The events in Ozoro illustrate how a practice that may once have held symbolic meaning can devolve into something deeply harmful. Even if the Alue-Do Festival began as a benign fertility rite, its present manifestation—marked by violence and coercion—cannot be defended. “Culture must align with dignity, consent, and respect—anything less is not tradition, but abuse.” One of the most persistent arguments in defence of controversial practices is that they are “part of our heritage” and therefore beyond criticism. Yet harmful practices—child marriage, inhumane widowhood rites, and domestic abuse—have long been justified using this same reasoning. This argument is not only flawed; it is dangerous. No culture is above scrutiny, particularly when it endangers the rights and safety of its people.

History reminds us that many practices once considered “normal” are now widely condemned. Societies progress by questioning and reforming such practices—not by clinging to them. Nigeria is not exempt from this reality. As a nation governed by law and constitutional principles, we cannot afford to tolerate practices that undermine the rights of citizens—especially women. At the heart of the Ozoro incident lies a broader societal issue: the perception of women as objects rather than autonomous individuals. The actions of the perpetrators were not isolated—they were enabled by a mindset that sees women’s bodies as accessible, controllable, and, in some contexts, communal property. “Women are not possessions, prizes, or objects of exploitation—they are individuals with rights, agency, and dignity.” This mindset reflects a deeper systemic problem often described as “rape culture,” visible in victim-blaming narratives, the dismissal of harassment, and the silence that frequently surrounds abuse.

For meaningful change to occur, this mindset must be confronted directly. Parents, religious institutions, government agencies, and the media all have critical roles to play in reshaping societal attitudes. Traditional institutions also wield significant influence, particularly in rural communities. With that influence comes responsibility—not only to preserve culture but to ensure that cultural practices align with contemporary standards of human rights and decency.The reported denial by the Ovie of Ozoro Kingdom of knowledge of the recent festival raises important questions about oversight and accountability. Community leaders and members alike must rise to their responsibilities. Cultural practices are sustained by collective acceptance. Silence, indifference, or complicity only perpetuate harm. While cultural reform is essential, it must be accompanied by accountability. The arrests made in connection with the incident are a step in the right direction, but they must lead to tangible outcomes. “Justice must not only be done—it must be seen to be done.”

Allowing perpetrators of sexual violence to go unpunished sends a dangerous message—that such actions are tolerable. This fosters a culture of impunity. The law must be clear and unequivocal: sexual assault, in any form and under any guise, is a crime. It is not a cultural expression—it is a violation.It must be emphasised that calling for the abandonment of harmful cultural practices is not an attack on tradition, but a call to refine it. Culture, at its best, is dynamic—it adapts while preserving its core values.“Tradition should uplift, not oppress.” Modernising culture does not mean erasing identity. It means ensuring that traditions remain relevant, inclusive, and respectful of human dignity. As Nigeria continues to evolve, it must decide what kind of society it aspires to be: one that hides behind tradition to justify abuse, or one that embraces progress while honouring its heritage responsibly. The outrage over the events in Ozoro is justified—but outrage alone is not enough

. It must translate into action: legal, cultural, and educational. We must state, without ambiguity, that no tradition justifies the violation of human dignity. We must hold perpetrators accountable and challenge the attitudes that enable such acts. True development is measured not only by infrastructure or economic growth, but by how a society treats its most vulnerable members. “If a cultural practice dehumanises, degrades, or endangers, it has no place in a modern society.” Where tradition fails to uphold dignity, it ceases to be culture. It becomes tyranny.

By: Calista Ezeaku

Opinion

Bazia EXCO @ One: NUJ Rivers Reawakened

Published

1 week ago

March 23, 2026

The Tide

Quote: “For the first time in years, Rivers journalists are not just hearing promises—they are seeing a union that works.”

The first year in office of the Paul Bazia-led executive of the Nigeria Union of Journalists (NUJ), has offered something many had almost given up on—renewed confidence in union leadership. For a body as critical as the NUJ, whose responsibility goes beyond professional coordination to include the welfare, protection, and continuous development of journalists, expectations are always high. Unfortunately, past experiences had conditioned many members to expect less—less action, less visibility, and less impact.This is why the past twelve months stand out. Within a relatively short period, the Bazia-led administration has demonstrated a level of drive that distinguishes it from its predecessors. There is a noticeable shift from inertia to activity, from routine administration to purposeful leadership. Initiatives captured in the one-year report point to an executive that understands both the urgency of its mandate and the frustrations of its members.

Particularly commendable is the renewed attention to journalists’ welfare. For too long, welfare issues have lingered without meaningful resolution, leaving many practitioners feeling unsupported. The current leadership’s efforts—through engagement, structured support, and timely interventions—signal a welcome change in priorities. Equally important is the push toward professional development. In an era where journalism is rapidly evolving, capacity building is no longer optional. The administration’s commitment to training and skill enhancement reflects an understanding that a stronger union must be built on more competent and competitive professionals. There is also something to be said about visibility and voice. A vibrant NUJ must not only serve its members internally but also stand as a credible voice in the public space—defending press freedom, promoting ethical standards, and constructively engaging critical issues.

Encouragingly, the current executive appears more present and responsive, giving the union a renewed sense of relevance. Perhaps what resonates most, however, is the sense of movement. For many members, the difference between the present and the immediate past is not subtle—it is clear. Where there was once stagnation, there is now direction. Where there was doubt, there is growing belief. Beyond the visible strides recorded within this first year, what perhaps deserves even greater applause is the restoration of institutional confidence within the Nigeria Union of Journalists. For a long time, many members had grown disenchanted, viewing the union more as a ceremonial body than an active force capable of defending their interests and advancing their welfare. That narrative, however, is gradually changing. The Bazia-led executive has not only initiated programs but has also rekindled a sense of belonging among members.

Meetings appear more purposeful, engagements more intentional, and decisions more reflective of collective interest. This psychological shift—subtle as it may seem—is one of the most critical achievements of the past year, because a union that its members believe in is already halfway to effectiveness. It is also important to underscore the contrast with the immediate past, not as an exercise in criticism, but as a necessary context for measuring progress. Where previous administrations struggled to translate plans into action, the current leadership has shown a greater bias for execution. Projects that once lingered in discussion stages are now seeing tangible movement, and issues that were previously deferred are receiving attention. This difference in approach—moving from prolonged deliberation to decisive action—has helped reposition the union as a more responsive and relevant institution.

While no administration is without its shortcomings, the willingness to act, even in the face of constraints, marks a significant departure from what members were accustomed to. Looking ahead, the expectations of members—and indeed the wider public—will only grow stronger. With a solid first year behind it, the Bazia-led executive now carries the burden of consistency. Members will expect deeper welfare interventions that go beyond immediate relief to more sustainable support systems. They will look for expanded training opportunities that prepare journalists for the rapidly changing media landscape. They will also expect a firmer, more courageous voice on issues affecting press freedom and professional integrity. Above all, they will demand continuity—assurance that the progress recorded so far is not a fleeting phase but the beginning of a sustained transformation.

Meeting these expectations will not be easy, but it is precisely this challenge that defines enduring leadership. That said, this moment of applause must also serve as a moment of reflection. A strong first year inevitably raises expectations. Journalists in Rivers State will now look beyond initial achievements toward consolidation. Welfare interventions must become more structured and far-reaching. Training programs must be sustained and expanded. Advocacy must become more consistent and impactful. Most importantly, the unity of the union must be strengthened, ensuring that all members feel included and carried along. Transparency will also be key. Continued open communication about finances, decisions, and challenges will deepen trust and set a standard for accountable union leadership. The task ahead is clear: to convert early momentum into lasting institutional progress.

For the Bazia-led executive, the opportunity is significant. It has, within one year, reawakened belief in what the NUJ Rivers State Council can be. The next step is to ensure that this renewed energy does not fade, but instead becomes the foundation of a stronger, more responsive, and more respected union. For the members, the message is equally clear—expect more, demand more, and support what works because in the end, a vibrant union is not built by leadership alone, but by a collective commitment to progress. And for now, under Bazia, that progress has truly begun.

By: Sylvia ThankGod-Amadi