Salah Darghouth’s frustration is visible.
“You see that guy working on the ninth floor?” says the adviser to Tunisia’s sustainable development ministry, pointing at a laborer on the half-built tower block opposite. “He harasses me. Every day, I watch him and all the others throw their refuse onto the street below — concrete, litter, everything.”
Across Tunisia, with the dust of revolution beginning to settle, refuse looms large in the public conversation. Litter, especially plastic bags, has come to dominate the country’s famously dramatic landscape. The problem is felt by all citizens, but none experience it more acutely than those living next to the straining landfill sites.
Ridha Trabelsi, 45, a shopkeeper who lives in the small Tunis suburb of el-Attar, is a case in point.
“Would you like to live here?” he asks, gesturing toward nearby Jbel Borj Chakir, Tunisia’s largest landfill and a source of growing exasperation. “They said they were going to close it last year, but they haven’t. It’s still here and it’s only getting bigger.”
The impact of landfills on such areas is difficult to overstate. In 2011, after what Tunisians and media called the Jasmine Revolution, it was the landfill sites at Djerba, Enkhila (near Nabeul), Oued Laya (near Sousse), Agareb (near Sfax), and the country’s only hazardous waste-treatment plant, at Jradou, that bore the brunt of residents’ fury.
All were closed, most of them temporarily, as a result of violence. Jradou remains shut and it is unclear where its waste is being treated. Plans to reopen the Djerba site have triggered more violence.
In el-Attar, the stench of garbage chokes the air; it sticks in your throat and permeates your clothing. Trabelsi’s son, eight-year-old Mohamed, is asthmatic. Respiratory illness is rife.
“When you build a landfill, you build it for a specific period,” says Morched Garbouj, an environmental engineer and president of the SOS BIAA environmental group. “Here at Jbel Borj Chakir, that period ended in 2013. At that point, it should either have been closed or, at the least, operating at around 10 percent to 20 percent capacity.”
Darghouth said no decision has been taken on the long-term future of Jbel Borj Chakir.
“We’re taking delivery of about 2,000 tonnes of waste every day. That has to go somewhere. We’re just dealing with everything on a day-to-day basis while we work to implement a larger strategy,” he says.
“One of the problems here is that we don’t know what kind of waste we’re dealing with,” Garbouj says. “Elsewhere, waste is separated; here it all gets dumped together: chemical, industrial, household and medical.”
Residents and those who make their living scavenging the dump have reported finding blood bags and fetuses in the garbage at Jbel Borj Chakir, a claim denied by Agence Nationale de Gestion des Dechets, which manages waste on behalf of the environment ministry.
“I didn’t just see them [the different types of waste], I handled them,” former refuse worker Kamel Marouani says. “Chemical, medical, everything.”
“One of the problems with all the different types of waste is the leachate it produces [the liquid produced at the base by the compressed garbage],” Garbouj says. “Leachate is highly toxic, so there are strict controls about how it should be treated and disposed of. However, because no one knows what’s in it, no one knows how it should be treated.”
Marouani, who was diagnosed with lung cancer in August 2012, worked at Jbel Borj Chakir for 10 years — the past five for a French firm, Pizzorno, one of three contractors that manage landfills for the Tunisian government. One of his tasks was to work in the 10 leachate basins that surround Jbel Borj Chakir. He was required to wade through the often chest-high, reeking, black leachate — building dams or clearing away the thick foam that forms on the surface of the basin.
SOS BIAA, an environmental advocacy group, estimates that the cost of transporting and disposing of waste at Jbel Borj Chakir was about US$110 to US$125 a tonne, compared with the equivalent cost in New York of US$86. This was despite significantly lower overheads. Trucks dumping at Jbel Borj Chakir pay Pizzorno US$15 for every tonne of waste deposited in return for the firm’s expertise in managing the site. Given that, on an average day, about 3,000 tonnes of waste is deposited, that equates to a daily revenue stream of US$45,000. The costs of trucks and labor are billed to the Tunisian government.
In 2011, Pizzorno was the subject of a complaint by the post-Arab Spring government’s Commission of Investigation on Corruption and Embezzlement over its dealings with former Tunisian president Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali’s regime. Pizzorno’s five-year contract with the Tunisian government expired on Thursday. No decision has been taken on a possible successor. Pizzorno, which continues to manage the site on a caretaker basis, declined to comment on any of the points raised in this article.
Desta Mebratu, deputy director of the UN Environment Program’s regional office for Africa, said: “Disposal in sanitary landfills is the last option that should be considered. Tunisia is one of the first African countries that established a national program on waste minimization and cleaner production. This program has led to reduction of a generation of industrial waste and reduction of pollution.”
In el-Attar, little of this matters. Children continue to play near the landfill. According to SOS BIAA tests, the local water supply — like all the water within a 5km radius — continues to be contaminated by fine particles, nitrates and even heavy metals from the dump. Trabelsi looks at the mountain of garbage that dominates the landscape for kilometers.
“We have sick old people. Our children are sick. We can’t continue,” Trabelsi said.
Saudi Arabian largesse is flooding Egypt’s cultural scene, but the reception is mixed. Some welcome new “cooperation” between two regional powerhouses, while others fear a hostile takeover by Riyadh. In Cairo, historically the cultural capital of the Arab world, Egyptian Minister of Culture Nevine al-Kilany recently hosted Saudi Arabian General Entertainment Authority chairman Turki al-Sheikh. The deep-pocketed al-Sheikh has emerged as a Medici-like patron for Egypt’s cultural elite, courted by Cairo’s top talent to produce a slew of forthcoming films. A new three-way agreement between al-Sheikh, Kilany and United Media Services — a multi-media conglomerate linked to state intelligence that owns much of
The US and other countries should take concrete steps to confront the threats from Beijing to avoid war, US Representative Mario Diaz-Balart said in an interview with Voice of America on March 13. The US should use “every diplomatic economic tool at our disposal to treat China as what it is... to avoid war,” Diaz-Balart said. Giving an example of what the US could do, he said that it has to be more aggressive in its military sales to Taiwan. Actions by cross-party US lawmakers in the past few years such as meeting with Taiwanese officials in Washington and Taipei, and
The Republic of China (ROC) on Taiwan has no official diplomatic allies in the EU. With the exception of the Vatican, it has no official allies in Europe at all. This does not prevent the ROC — Taiwan — from having close relations with EU member states and other European countries. The exact nature of the relationship does bear revisiting, if only to clarify what is a very complicated and sensitive idea, the details of which leave considerable room for misunderstanding, misrepresentation and disagreement. Only this week, President Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文) received members of the European Parliament’s Delegation for Relations
Denmark’s “one China” policy more and more resembles Beijing’s “one China” principle. At least, this is how things appear. In recent interactions with the Danish state, such as applying for residency permits, a Taiwanese’s nationality would be listed as “China.” That designation occurs for a Taiwanese student coming to Denmark or a Danish citizen arriving in Denmark with, for example, their Taiwanese partner. Details of this were published on Sunday in an article in the Danish daily Berlingske written by Alexander Sjoberg and Tobias Reinwald. The pretext for this new practice is that Denmark does not recognize Taiwan as a state under