The e-waste
dump Agbogbloshie exemplifies the downside of globalization: It's the bitter
end of a supply chain where children, instead of going to school, wander
barefoot gathering bits of salvaged metal for pennies.
Black,
poisonous smoke darkens the sky above Agbogbloshie, the final destination for
electronic waste shipped from all over the globe. Some 50,000 people, including
many children, live here - at one of the world's largest e-waste dumping
grounds.
Literally
tons of old electronics burn in countless open fires, making my skin burn and
itch as I walk through the grounds. There's a metallic taste in my mouth, and
my head throbs. Meter-high, dazzling, green flames release huge wafts of black,
poisonous fumes. It's like an apocalyptic painting come to life.
People burn
the cables and circuit boards to get the poor man's gold within: copper,
aluminium, lead - valued raw materials for industry.
Sacrificing
their health
Badugu is
25 years old. He can't say how long he's been getting copper coils and metal
plates out of old radios. He only knows that he has no choice - this is his
livelihood.
"I
want money, that's why I come do this work," he says. "Today is very
bad," he added. He describes himself as having a "problem
inside" due to all the toxic smoke.
Next to
Badugu, several children are busy breaking apart old televisions. Some kids
drag speaker magnets strung on cords behind them, wandering the grounds for
hours so bits of metal stick to the magnets. They then sell their catch - bits
of circuit board, screws, aluminium, copper - to metal traders next door. Their
income amounts to just a few euro cents.
Wearing
plastic sandals and a torn T-shirt, Peter stands on a mountain of glass shards,
old freezers, copy machines and car batteries; at his feet, pink ink from
printer cartridges coat the black ground. He shows me his arms and legs, which
are covered in cuts from broken glass and sharp slivers of metal.
"I'm
sick in my head," he says, describing his constant headaches. Many
children here have breathing problems, and cough up blood. Some, Peter says,
also have problems with their eyes. His siblings work here as well. Peter's
mother sells sweets on the street. He doesn't know where his father is.
"I
want to get money, take my money and go to school. That's why I am here,"
Peter says forcefully.
E-waste
from Europe
The grounds
are full of heavy metals from televisions and computers. Toxic brominated flame
retardants, which inhibit the ignition of combustible organic materials, are
all around.
The
children who live and work here have a wide range of ailments - from kidney
disease, to liver malfunction, to problems with other organs. Ghanaian
environmental activist Mike Anane, who's been coming to Agbogbloshie for years,
can attest to the toxic effect on the kids.
The
children's illnesses are "a result of their exposure to e-waste from the
industrialized countries," Anane says.
Anane has
been gathering evidence on how the rich Western world is dumping its electronic
waste in Africa. "From Germany, from Denmark, China - the world's
computers, television sets, e-waste. They all come here to die!" he says.
This waste is destroying the environment - and making people sick, he adds.
"Will
this ever stop?" he wonders.
Trade
brings consequences
Despite
months of inquiries, phone calls and emails, as well as personal visits to
municipal offices, Ghana's officials wouldn't agree to be interviewed. Only
Mike Anane seems able to provide information on the dump.
"In
the past, a lot of dumping used to go on in Nigeria as well. E-waste seems to
go where the economy is booming, where trade seems to be increasing,"
Anane says. With Ghana's international trade also came e-waste. "It is
very easy for the organized crime involved in this activity to slip these
containers into our ports," he points out.
The Basel
Convention, which some 170 nations have signed, forbids the export of
technological waste from Europe. Despite this, about 500 containers full of old
electronic devices land in Agbogbloshie every month. They are declared as used
items, and are therefore fully legal. Some exporters even believe that they are
helping Africans, Anane says.
"But
there is no way that we can properly recycle or properly dispose of this toxic
electronic waste," he states.
In
neighborhoods around the dump, shops have taken over entire lanes to sell the
electronics.
Rockson is
one vendor who sells everything: old air-conditioning parts, car batteries,
microwaves. The apparent bestsellers are flat-screen displays, the merchant
says, which sell for 200 cedi - about 100 euros.
He gets
most of his wares from Italy. The rear section of the shop is stuffed with old
Italian newspapers, insulation from the transport container.
"It's
a good business - we have a lot of customers," Rockson says. Ghanaians
trust original brands, not cheaper Chinese copies, he adds.
I discover
some items from Germany - much to Rockson's delight. A small battery-powered
vacuum cleaner has made its way across oceans to this store. "Yeah, very,
very good quality, they like it," Rockson says.
Rockson
admits that not all of the items actually work. "We buy in bulk, we buy
quantities or we buy untested," he says. Many of the items appear to be 10
to 20 years old.
E-waste
trading has been going on in Accra for about a decade. From every container,
perhaps 15 or 20 percent of the devices work - the rest is sold to scrap
dealers for the boys to pick through.
No more
'playing ostrich'
Back at the
dump, 18-year-old Maxwell is tending a big fire. Along with some friends, he's
burning up old heaters and auto parts. His eyes are frighteningly yellow - a
sign of liver stress. Maxwell, too, has come to Accra from a poor village in
northern Ghana.
"My
mother and father, we don't have anything," he says. "That's why I am
here, to work," Maxwell says. He sends his earnings to his family.
Maxwell
pokes a metal pole into a burning air conditioner. With his bare hands, he
pulls apart the red-hot metal pieces roasting in the flames. Next to us, young
women stand in the biting smoke, selling small bags of water - to cool down the
hot wires and copper coils. A small girl, perhaps two years old, without
sandals and without a diaper, stumbles toward me, looking for her mother.
Anane wants
European countries to stop dumping their e-waste in Africa and address the
problems they cause.
"The
industrialized countries, the European Union, cannot continue to play
ostrich," Anane says. They know the electronic waste is shipped here, and
should do something about it, he thinks.
Consumers
need to be more aware of where their waste ends up. And recyclers should be
held responsible for making sure the work is done in conditions safe for people
and the environment, Anane says.
As the sun
sets, we come across Joshua, a five-year-old with a vacant face. He's on his
way to work at the dump, carrying a metal bin on his head. And he's in complete
despair - some of the bigger boys have taken away his work tool: the speaker
magnet. He can't collect magnetic metals now, and he doesn't know what to do.
Then I find
the remains of a copy machine from Cologne, Germany. A sticker on the side of
the old machine says: "This copy machine is suitable for use with recycled
paper."
It's an
ironic farewell from one of the worst e-waste dumps in the world.
