A creeping tide of rust-colored stains is plaguing the streets of Wembley, a visual blight that speaks to a growing problem. Walking along the high street, the marks are unavoidable, splattered near bins and clinging to building facades.
These stains are the residue of paan – a mixture of betel nut, leaf, and other ingredients enjoyed as a dessert or stimulant. But with enjoyment comes a consequence: users spit out the resulting liquid, leaving behind a mess that’s proving incredibly difficult to combat.
For business owners, the daily cleanup is a frustrating ritual. Hours are spent scrubbing at the stubborn marks, a constant battle against a tide of discoloration that scars the urban landscape. It’s a struggle that street cleaner Emmanuel Flavius knows all too well.
“It’s become a nightmare,” Flavius admits, describing the increasing prevalence of the habit. The stains are “almost impossible to get off,” he explains, requiring harsh chemicals like acid for even a partial removal. He calls it “disgusting, anti-social, and a health hazard.”
Brent Council is now urgently calling for a ban on the sale of paan products, recognizing that local enforcement efforts have reached their limit. The issue extends beyond mere aesthetics; it’s a growing concern for public health and community well-being.
A walk along Wembley High Road quickly reveals the scale of the problem. Within minutes, the stains become ubiquitous, a constant presence on every corner. After just half an hour, the count easily exceeded fifty.
Entire lamp posts and electrical boxes are coated in the reddish-brown substance, while stubborn dribbles mar the surfaces of washed walls. The visual impact is jarring, a constant reminder of the ongoing struggle.
Mary Manuel, a resident of Wembley for two decades, expresses her frustration. “It’s got so bad it’s just unacceptable,” she says, even taking to politely confronting those she sees spitting, pretending to be a council official to discourage the behavior.
Sujeeva and her husband, Prathipkumar, who run a supermarket near the high street, face the cleanup every morning. Their attempts to address the issue with those responsible have been met with aggression and threats, highlighting a disturbing undercurrent.
Paan itself is a complex cultural practice, a blend of refreshment, tradition, and even ritual. It’s popular within South East Asian communities, often used as a mouth freshener after meals or during religious ceremonies. However, its addictive nature mirrors that of smoking.
Sujeeva explains the damage to her property, stating, “These people don’t care. They use our wall to drink and chat and leave their stains behind.” The council estimates the annual cleanup costs reach tens of thousands of pounds, with lasting damage remaining even after cleaning.
Some argue against a ban, suggesting it unfairly penalizes the majority who use paan responsibly. Jeyakanthan, a shopkeeper selling paan leaf, believes only a small fraction of users contribute to the problem, emphasizing its importance in Hindu culture and religious practices.
However, Brent Council maintains the ban is necessary, framing it as a public health measure. The borough experiences a significantly higher rate of head and neck cancer – over 90 cases per 100,000 people – compared to the England average of 16.
The proposed ban targets products containing tobacco or betel nut, not the paan leaf itself. Councillor Krupa Sheth emphasizes this isn’t about targeting communities, but addressing harmful individual actions. “When our streets are spat on… public health is put at risk,” she states.
Sheth argues that councils lack the power to address national loopholes and that legislative change is crucial. “A product that causes such serious harm simply should not be legally sold on our high streets.” The fight for cleaner streets, and a healthier community, is now escalating beyond local efforts.
