Am I the only one who has noticed a rise in the amount of litter bestrewn along our highways and byways? I have hesitated to draw conclusions about this, as I suspected that our local problem was just that – a local problem. But a friend of mine has just come back from a trip to the tourist mecca of Mpumalanga and immediately sent me a spluttering e-mail decrying the mess around what should otherwise be known as ‘beauty spots’. I have also been on the receiving end of recent hysterical chain letters containing photographs of luxuriant heaps of rubbish.   I go for occasional walks in our neighbourhood, choosing the little lanes along a wetland and a small stream. Over the last few months I have noticed more and more bits of plastic, polystyrene, paper and glass snuggled in the grass. Wherever the stream hits an obstruction, like a corner or a rock or whatever the geographical term is for these things, there is a sorry pyramid of discoloured debris. 
 
I want to find out if littering is indeed on the rise and – if so – what are we going to do about it? I remember as a fingerling we were always exhorted to ‘Zap it in the Zibi-bin’ with a colourful zebra-like creature on each rubbish-bin.  It seemed to work because I certainly remember a clean country. And I have a handbag that requires constant spring-cleaning because I take my litter home with me. There was that blissful period shortly after Minister of the Environment Valli Moosa banned plastic bags. Almost immediately the trees and fences were shorn of their drapes of blue plastic. These have now crept back.
 
I remember Zimbabwe always being a clean and tidy country, apparently because bottles carried a deposit which was built into the price of the drink. I don’t know what Zimbabwe did about other litter such as plastic but I do know that people used to make a point of describing Zimbabwe as litter-free. I’m sure now the poor Zimbabweans have other priorities. Although, to be cynical, they are probably still a very clean country because there is nothing to throw away.
 
When my mother went to Namibia on holiday last year, she was struck by the cleanliness. When she asked a local woman what the secret was to the sparklingly pristine country, the lady replied with great emphasis:  “We are taught at school not to litter!” My mother was very impressed.
 
I am not saying for a moment that litter is a South African problem – I have been to coves in the Mediterranean where the sea gently bobs various bottles and tins along the shore. A little pond in England, complete with ducks, was spoiled for me as a picnic spot because of the eddies of litter along the water’s edge. Flotsam and jetsam can be found in most countries and it always leaves a bad impression.
 
But I am getting a distinct suspicion that South Africans are becoming dirtier as a nation. 
 
Medical students do not need to do any empirical research into nutrition – all they need to do is drive behind a taxi. They will discover exactly what and how the average South African eats. First the fruit peels and banana skins fly out the window. Then the wrapping off the sandwich. This is succeeded by a steady progression of chicken bones, the polystyrene platter and spoon, punctuated by the fried-chicken box, followed by the cooldrink can. And finally, the napkin.
 
Letters to the papers in Durban constantly complain about the state of the beaches and the city streets. In defence of the city, I know that they clean up on a daily basis. However, it only takes a few hours in the morning for the rubbish to rise to the same levels as the day before.
 
Recently I stopped at the Loskop dam to admire the scenery. A car drew up next to me and the driver casually threw his cooldrink bottle out of the window. Apoplectic with rage, I went over, picked it up and waved it in his face, all the time giving him a lecture on keeping the country clean, and very pointedly threw the bottle in the nearby bin. A large woman walked past with her children, staring at me in fascination, hanging onto every word and nodding in agreement. Then she walked a little further and threw HER cooldrink bottle over the dam wall into the water. I nearly went in after it.
 
Back home, when I picked out a middle-aged gentleman for emptying the rubbish from his car onto the pavement, he replied that he was creating jobs for unemployed people. Where do people get this story from? Who started this fable about a horde of unfortunates that follow us around with a dustbin and spiked stick? 
 
In less than 18 months we will be welcoming the world to South Africa for the World Cup. Billions of people will see Table Mountain in all its glory, the beaches of the coast, the wide stately rivers, the expanses of the game reserves. And the heaps of tins, the trails of cooldrink bottles, the plastic bags hanging from trees and fences, the piles of fast-food containers.  It will be an own goal.