The day was cloudy and the forecasts called for rain. “No matter what the forecasts say, that won’t stop us,” said Jelena Lacman in a short phone call while walking with two boys, Nikola and Pavle, toward the meeting place at the Vito Nikolić promenade under mount Trebjesa, the hill overlooking Nikšić’s old town.
That November weekend, Lacman, Ivana Čogurić and a group of volunteers from Nikšić — who have been dedicating their free time to cleaning Niksić for almost a year — were gathering for another action. Rallying around the initiatives Ekopatriotizam (Eco-patriotism) and Ekobonton (Eco-manners), they have been urging all of Montenegro to do the same for the past nine months. So far, they have executed more than 40 official activities and who knows how many spontaneous actions.
The movement started around a year ago, in a time of political instability for Montenegro, when a protracted conflict with the Serbian Orthodox Church and the aftermath of the pandemic had led to a change in power. Then a new COVID-19 wave put an early end to the debate via a new lockdown.
That was when Jelena Lacman, Ivana Čogurić, Bojana Kršikapa and Jelena Jovićević decided to replace their ritual morning coffee, and even their afternoon coffee, with a hike. Although they had been living in the “city under Trebjesa” for years, it was only now that they noticed how much litter was all around them.
For the first time, they saw the piles of rubbish in their way and those small trash dumps in the least expected places, such as the hill the people of Nikšić have always referred to as the “city’s lungs.” They decided to replace their hikes with action. In doing so, they brought something new to the debate: garbage bags, cleaning gloves, rakes, shovels and mowers.
A little bit before 11 a.m. Lacman arrived at the agreed-upon location — the empty space between the church and the museum at the start of the Vito Nikolić promenade. This is where they first started cleaning and where they had cleaned a few days before, but there was much more trash to collect. A group of people had already shown up despite the weather, the youngest of them being preschoolers. Colorful gloves were easily visible from afar and a positive work energy could already be felt.
Two days earlier, Ivana said she had a seminar scheduled and that she would not be in town. However, there she was, wearing a simple sweatsuit and backpack instead of a serious outfit; she had had her coffee at home and rushed outside. When someone asked if she was not supposed to be at a seminar she simply replied with a smile, “I canceled. There will be other seminars, but how could I miss this action?”
Everyone was there, though part of the Javorak Mountaineering and Skiing Club would be arriving a bit later — they were busy preparing lunch. They had been there from the very start, Nada Tadić with the youth.
“Whose job are we doing?”
That Sunday was the first cleanup action joined by Nikšić municipal officials, headed by the young Assembly President Nemanja Vuković, who had replaced his suit with a sweatsuit and sneakers.
“We are aware that the environmental image of Nikšić is terrible. I believe that we must all contribute for our city to become a more beautiful and cleaner place for living,” he said, with a rake in his hands.
Lacman, for her part, thinks that what provoked municipal officials to step in and participate in these actions is the sentence “Whose job are we doing?”
“They thought we were calling them out and felt ashamed that somebody else was doing their job,” she said. “That doesn’t bother us, we know that they too need assistance and we are willing to provide it. We want to serve as role models and invite everyone willing to join us.”
She wanted to emphasize that the important thing is that municipal officials finally recognized the gravity of the issue. Ecopatriots, as they have come to call themselves, have been cleaning the city for almost a year with little, if any, official assistance.

Volunteers and municipal employees conduct a cleanup in central Nikšić. Photo: Milica Radovanović.
That day, however, workers of the Public Utility Company were also at the spot with various machines and a truck while the director brought his chainsaw. The president of Nikšić’s local assembly came in defense of its employees, shifting the blame to his predecessors and promising substantial improvements.
Complaints about the utility company are far from new. It once asked for financial compensation for the removal of garbage at Lake Krupac, a few kilometers from downtown Nikšić, even though that is exactly its task and function. This, Vuković said, is a practice of the past.
The municipal authorities are also toying with the idea of introducing a specific environmental rangers service and coordinate with the Communal Police and the municipal inspection in the matter to ensure that those who litter are sanctioned. In their view, this should help to build an “environmental brand” for Nikšić.
However, It is unclear how easily these wishes will translate into reality. Quite often, past political promises were not followed by concrete actions from those in positions of power. That, despite the fact that the Constitution declares Montenegro an Ecological State in its first article. Meanwhile, the garbage continues accumulating.
In April, the Ministry of Ecology, Spatial Planning and Urbanism invited representatives of Ekopatriotizam and Ekobonton to speak with them. However, as it turns out, the volunteers believe that “they invited us to talk for the sake of their self-promotion. I hope the same thing won’t happen with the municipal authorities, that our cooperation won’t be limited to this. We can’t do it all by ourselves,” said Lacman.
Green grassroots
Lacman thinks the reason people trust them is that they are not benefitting from their activism. “We are a volunteer group through and through. Everything we do is done for ourselves, for the children whose future depends on this, for all the people living in our city and country.”
She emphasized that fellow citizens have recognized the importance of this work and have accordingly donated equipment, tools and material, but they reject monetary donations. They want to avoid any kind of material profit, she pointed out, adding that they do not declare themselves as a non-governmental organization for the same reason.
Although cleaning up other people’s trash sometimes seems futile to Lacman, she believes that only by shifting individual mindsets can something change. After all, garbage is burying everyone in equal measure.
“We sometimes get the impression that all this is futile. After cleaning some spot up, we come back after seven days and find both old and new garbage at the same location,” she lamented. Still, she added that she remains convinced that making everyone aware of the importance of the environment is worth the effort, even if she is not sure how long that might take.

Jelena Lacman is one of the main drivers behind the actions. Photo: Milica Radovanović.
While climbing the narrow pathway behind the Cathedral Church, with the city graveyard on one side and the promenade on the other, 8-year-old Nikola met her on a slippery path made of a pile of fallen leaves. He was carrying a big bag of garbage over his left shoulder while dragging a tin box with his right hand.
“Is this part of a coffin?” she muttered to herself as she stopped, aware that the main cemetery is nearby. As she turned around and took the tin from Nikola, she was shocked — not by the boy’s cargo, but because they recently removed more than 40 big bags worth of waste from the same spot. Not just that, they had even cleaned up this inaccessible area some six months ago.
Despite everything, everyone seemed cheerful. The team was laughing and joking, encouraging each other to work. In the background, their murmur was joined by the sound of a chainsaw and a mowing trimmer to provide a soundtrack.