Rukayat Salau recounts her journey of overcoming obstacles to become a passionate advocate for climate action, emphasizing the vital role of technology in driving meaningful change and fostering community engagement.
Would you rather run in a serene environment or a bustling slum?
This was the question that came to my mind after my first running activation in two starkly different spaces as an UrbanBetter RunLeader. For some, the choice is simple – running in peaceful, clean areas. But for many, especially in dense urban neighbourhoods, there is no choice but to run in slums, under harsh conditions that impact their overall well-being. The sad reality is that most Africans lack access to running infrastructure that promotes good health, often left to endure poor environments that present serious risks.
Come along with me as I take you through my running journey in these two diverse spaces.
My Bariga Run
It was a cold, rainy morning as my fellow Citizens4CleanAir team and I—a group of about 20—set out around 7:30 a.m. for a 6-kilometer run through the streets of Bariga. Our mission was clear: to advocate for better air quality by promoting clean air practices, backed by accurate data. We began at the Faculty of Environmental Sciences at the University of Lagos, making our way toward St. Finbarr’s College Road. Right at the university gate, our mobile sensor detected moderate air quality, likely influenced by the surrounding green spaces acting as carbon sinks, absorbing some of the vehicle emissions.
However, as we moved farther from the university, air quality levels quickly declined, dipping into the “unhealthy for sensitive groups” and even “hazardous” categories. Heavy vehicular emissions, traffic congestion, a poor road network, overcrowded housing, and the noticeable absence of green spaces likely contributed to this dramatic drop.
After passing Ilaje Road, we turned onto Deji Aladejobi Street—a quieter stretch with fewer cars and a few scattered trees. The air quality here improved to moderate, offering a brief respite. From there, we connected to Abule Okuta Road and then onto Bajulaiye Road, where the sensor readings once again shifted from unhealthy to hazardous levels.
Our journey continued through the bustling Abule-Ijesha and Abule-Oja areas, both lively due to their proximity to the University of Lagos’ main gate. The streets were packed with students commuting, street vendors, and ongoing construction. The sheer density of human activity only worsened the already poor air quality, making it a noticeable concern.
As we circled back to the UNILAG main gate, our sensors confirmed what we had experienced: the average air quality along this route was very unhealthy. This came as no surprise, given the area’s poor waste management, lack of green spaces, traffic congestion, dense population, tightly packed housing, and ongoing road construction—all likely contributing to the deteriorating air conditions.
Amid the run, we couldn’t pass by without engaging with the people who live and breathe this environment daily. On St. Finbarr’s College Road, we stopped to speak with street vendors using unclean cooking fuels like firewood and charcoal. Some were unaware that the smoke from their cooking was harming their lungs, while others knew the risks all too well. They explained that although they understood the dangers, survival came first—clean air wasn’t their immediate concern when putting food on the table was a daily struggle.
We didn’t dismiss their reality. Instead, we showed them we understood their struggle. But we also explained how air pollution was silently making things worse for them—the coughing, the headaches, the fatigue that seemed like a part of daily life could be linked to that same smoke. We talked about practical, cleaner options—not to change their lives overnight, but small shifts that could help in the long run. Maybe using cleaner cooking alternatives when possible or spreading the word about the benefits of reducing firewood use.
The conversation wasn’t easy. You could see the weight of their choices etched on their faces. But they listened—really listened. By the end, some of them agreed to consider alternatives, however small. It wasn’t a huge win, but it was a start. In an environment where survival takes precedence, getting people to see the value in change, even gradual change, felt like progress. It was a small step in a much larger fight for cleaner air, but one that reminded us why this advocacy matters so much.
Ikeja Run
The run kicked off with 12 Cityzens4CleanAir at the Conoil filling station, heading down Oba Akinjobi Way toward Joel Ogunnaike Street. Right from the start, the difference was striking—well-maintained green spaces, excellent walkability, fewer cars, and an organized road network made this area feel more breathable. The structures along this stretch were mostly residential, with a few shopping marts and restaurants thoughtfully spaced out. The air quality here was measured as moderate, likely reflecting the carefully planned infrastructure and abundance of greenery.
As we transitioned to Mobolaji Bank Anthony Way, air quality fluctuated. This road sees significantly more traffic, including trucks spewing thick smoke. Despite the spike in vehicular emissions, the area still boasted impressive green spaces and wide, smooth roads that allowed vehicles to move swiftly, reducing congestion. The reduced business activity here may also explain why air quality didn’t drop as sharply as expected.
Things took a turn when we headed toward the underpass near Computer Village via Olowu Street. Known as the commercial heart of Ikeja, the area was teeming with activity—street vendors, shoppers, and countless vehicles crammed into every corner. Unsurprisingly, this portion of our route had very unhealthy air quality, particularly under the bridge, where the congestion and lack of green spaces made the pollution even more evident.
Our run concluded near the Lagos State University Teaching Hospital (LASUTH) main gate, presenting a different scene. The road was busy, and walkability was reduced due to traders spilling over into pedestrian pathways. However, since it was a Sunday, business activity was lighter, which may have helped keep air quality fair in this area.
One memorable moment occurred as we approached Olowu Street. We stopped to talk with a group of five people for about seven minutes, discussing the importance of clean air. They listened carefully, and we felt a sense of accomplishment in spreading awareness.
Not every encounter was as smooth, though. When we reached Computer Village, we approached two men standing by the roadside. One of them, visibly frustrated, lashed out at us before we could even finish introducing ourselves. He vented his anger about the country’s problems—lack of jobs, poor infrastructure, and everything in between. We hadn’t expected such hostility, but it was a powerful reminder of the frustrations people face and the emotional toll hardship takes. Advocacy isn’t always met with open arms, and resilience becomes key when people aren’t ready or willing to listen.
On the flip side, the other man was much more receptive. He listened carefully as we explained the link between air pollution and health and even offered insightful suggestions on how the community could get involved in making the area cleaner. His engagement gave us hope that, despite the challenges, there are still people who care about improving their environment and are willing to take action.
These contrasting experiences underscored the unpredictability of advocacy—sometimes you’re welcomed, other times you’re met with frustration. But every conversation, whether easy or hard, moves the needle just a little bit closer to change.
