When people think about waste management, they often picture massive landfills, fleets of trucks, and high-tech recycling facilities. But in many of the places where I’ve worked, small island nations, post-conflict zones, and underfunded cities, that kind of infrastructure is simply not available. The challenge in these environments is not just about managing waste, but about doing so in a way that respects the unique social, environmental, and economic constraints of the region.
In resource-limited settings, every decision counts. We don’t have the luxury of overdesigning, and we certainly can’t afford to waste time or money on systems that don’t work. That means the first step is always listening. Before drawing up a plan or recommending a piece of equipment, I ask questions. Who generates the waste? What does it consist of? How is it currently being handled? What’s culturally acceptable, and what’s not? Understanding those basics is essential.
It’s Not About Cutting Corners. It’s About Smarter Design.
Designing for scarcity doesn’t mean lowering your standards. It means applying creativity, empathy, and flexibility. I’ve learned that you can build strong, resilient waste systems with limited resources if you focus on what matters most: functionality, adaptability, and local ownership.
Take collection, for example. In some places, the terrain is too rough for heavy trucks, fuel is expensive, and drivers are in short supply. So rather than insist on a full fleet of compactors, we might invest in handcarts, tricycles, or small pickups. These may seem like modest tools, but if they’re maintained properly and integrated into a well-planned route system, they can do the job effectively.
Transfer stations are another key piece. In larger countries, waste travels long distances to reach landfills. But in remote or island communities, that simply isn’t feasible. Instead, we think in terms of local sorting centers and interim holding facilities that reduce volume and allow for basic separation before materials are moved off-island or repurposed locally.
Engage the Community, Build the System
One of the most overlooked elements of any waste system is the human one. In places where formal collection and disposal systems are underdeveloped, people often play a direct role in managing their own waste. This includes informal recyclers, community leaders, and even schoolchildren who bring waste education home.
In post-conflict zones, trust can be fragile. In budget-constrained municipalities, morale can be low. And in island communities, traditional knowledge may be more relevant than outside advice. That’s why I always advocate for open-door leadership and local involvement from day one. If the community sees themselves as part of the solution, the system is far more likely to succeed and sustain itself over time.
I’ve seen firsthand how engaging people in design decisions, whether it’s locating a compost site or choosing collection days, can turn passive residents into active stewards. It doesn’t require expensive technology, just a genuine willingness to listen and co-create.
Use What You Have, Not What You Wish For
It’s tempting to imagine a perfect system with all the bells and whistles: automated bins, digital tracking, state-of-the-art sorting facilities. But in many of the regions I serve, the question isn’t “What would be ideal?” It’s “What can we do right now with what we already have?”
For example, if there’s an existing landfill, I look at ways to improve safety and extend its life rather than replace it entirely. If composting is culturally familiar, I might explore how to formalize and scale that practice using low-tech methods. If a municipality is struggling with open burning, we look for ways to segregate organics and reduce the load.
These are not compromises, they’re context-driven choices. And in many cases, they lead to more sustainable outcomes than simply trying to replicate systems designed for wealthier cities.
Resilience Means More Than Infrastructure
The goal is never just about building a waste system. It’s about building a system that can survive setbacks, adapt to change, and grow over time. That’s what resilience means to me. In resource-limited environments, resilience often comes down to three things: training, maintenance, and relationships.
People need to be trained not just to operate equipment, but to fix it. Maintenance schedules must be realistic and tied to available resources. And local teams need to have clear lines of communication with leadership so problems don’t fester. When you get those pieces right, even a bare-bones system can outperform a shiny new one that breaks down and sits unused.
Roger E. Merritt, Jr. has spent much of his career working in environments where resilience isn’t a buzzword—it’s a daily reality. His approach emphasizes practicality, compassion, and long-term thinking, which is why his systems tend to stick even after funding cycles end.
Real Impact, Not Just Metrics
People often ask how I measure success. Sure, we can look at tons diverted or collection coverage rates. But in these contexts, success often looks different. It might be a school that starts a composting program because the kids want to. It might be a landfill that stops burning waste for the first time in years. Or a sanitation worker who feels proud of their role and stays on the job longer.
These moments don’t always show up on dashboards, but they matter deeply. They show that the system is becoming part of the community’s fabric. That’s the kind of impact I care about.
From Scarcity to Strength
If you ask me what designing for scarcity has taught me, I’d say it’s this: limitations are not the enemy of progress. They’re the fuel for it. When you work in challenging environments, you learn to see possibilities others miss. You get better at asking the right questions, not just offering quick solutions.
Waste may be a problem, but it’s also an opportunity to create jobs, improve health, restore dignity, and build systems that serve people, not just policy goals. And that’s what drives me every day.
Roger E. Merritt, Jr. believes that waste systems in low-resource settings deserve just as much innovation, empathy, and strategic thinking as those in the world’s biggest cities. Because when you get them right, they don’t just manage waste, they create hope.