We’ll always need the toilet: What sanitation says about society

I wonder if, as adults, we monitor the number of times we use the toilet, especially for the number two business, as much as we do with our children? If this sentence made you frown or cover your nose, then I suggest you find a comfortable chair to finish reading this piece. You are the target audience for such content.

I want us to talk about our relationship with toilets, particularly with those who find toilets, or perhaps any mention of them, somewhat distasteful.

My sister and I were talking the other day about what it means to raise children in South Africa’s current economic climate. She laughed so hard when I told her that beyond the rising costs of living, what truly tested me as a first-time mom was changing nappies. Not the sleepless nights or the toddler tantrums, but the nappy changing. I am assured that anyone who has raised a baby knows the unspoken science of monitoring stool colour, texture and frequency. It’s not glamorous, but it’s necessary because one minute you are holding your breath, the next you’re diagnosing a diet deficiency. Yet, most of us have done this without even blinking twice. In that messy reality lies an overlooked truth, and that is, sanitation is not just about cleanliness, it’s about care, dignity and survival.

Somewhere along the line, as we grow older and dare I say, privileged, I think we begin to treat toilets as unmentionable, as though civility requires silence about the most universal of human functions. But how a society manages its sanitation says far more about its values than we often admit. We can’t meaningfully speak about health, equality or human rights without confronting what happens after the flush.

Each year, in the month of November, the Department of Water and Sanitation joins the global community to observe World Toilet Day on the 19th. This is a stark reminder that globally, billions still live without access to safe sanitation facilities.

In South Africa, while much progress has been made since 1994 to address the sanitation backlog, challenges remain, particularly in ensuring that every household, school and community enjoys safe and dignified sanitation.

However, behind the statistics are human stories such as the young girl who misses school because there’s no private facility, the Gogo whose dignity returns with a working toilet, and the families for whom dignity begins with something as simple as a door that closes.

Being an employee for the Department of Water and Sanitation, I’ve come to realise just how layered this work really is, from eradicating bucket systems to promoting alternative and water-efficient sanitation technologies. As such, this year’s theme: ‘We’ll Always Need the Toilet’, might sound like a slogan, but it captures a deeper truth.

I’ve been to communities where new toilet facilities were being handed over and I could see the relief, not just in the physical sense, but in people’s posture. There’s something profoundly human about being able to close a door, about privacy and dignity being restored.

The ongoing focus on faecal sludge management and waste reuse represents an important shift in thinking. Around the world, and increasingly in South Africa, waste is being turned into energy, fertiliser and even bricks. It’s not the kind of work that makes headlines, but it’s work that redefines sustainability in a very practical way.

Still, technology alone won’t change how we see sanitation. What’s needed is a shift in culture and a willingness to speak more openly about something we all use every day. Toilets should not be symbols of shame or privilege, but of progress.

So perhaps, the next time you find yourself in that familiar quiet moment, sitting on what might be the most democratic seat in existence, pause. Think about what it represents. I think the lesson is simpler than we think. That the same care we show in monitoring our children’s well-being is the same care we owe each other.

Our relationship with toilets, in the end, mirrors our relationship with each other. And when we care enough to look closely, to fix what’s broken and to speak about what makes us uncomfortable, we can build a society that values dignity in its truest and most human form. Because after all, We’ll Always Need the Toilet!

Maseko is a Communicator at the Department of Water and Sanitation.