By Sylvia Smith for CNN Adjust font size:
CAIRO, Egypt (CNN) -- Growing piles of rubbish in cities is something that concerns city dwellers around the globe. In most countries householders pay to have their garbage taken away by the local council. But in Egypt the boot is on the other foot with private garbage collectors in the capital purchasing rights to gather refuse. Although these rubbish experts run profitable businesses recycling almost everything they collect in their donkey carts, their enterprising and efficient disposal of waste is threatened by the arrival of Western firms using crusher trucks. The story of Cairo's rubbish also runs along religious lines. Purchasing the bags of old food and clothes thrown away by the citizens of the metropolis of Cairo began with the original collectors who were Muslims from Lower Egypt (Wahis.) They bought long-term rights to get their hands on the city's refuse, burning the rubbish to cook the national dish "foul mesdames" spicy bean stew and to make charcoal. Then about 50 years ago they moved up a rung and took on the role of selling off routes when newcomers, impoverished Christian Copts from Upper Egypt, arrived. These Zarrab or pig breeders put up a few tin shacks around the outskirts of Cairo and unofficially started collecting rubbish to feed their swine. They have carried out the task of keeping the capital's 18 million population rubbish-free ever since using mainly donkey carts to take the rubbish off the streets and to the areas where they live. The system runs on two levels: The Wahi negotiate with the inhabitants of flats and houses on behalf of the Christian Zabaleen who do the collecting. Routes are agreed on, times of day for collection arranged and a deposit paid for the service. Although it's hard to estimate numbers, since the Zabaleen live in squatter settlements, Environmental Quality International, a Cairo-based environmental consultancy estimates that several hundred thousand people are dependent directly or indirectly in the recycling activities. It's a well organized if secret society highly thought of by the international environmental movement, but considered too "third world" by Cairenes keen to emulate the West. But few of these modern-minded city dwellers are aware of what happens when they carelessly toss a half eaten sandwich or a worn-out pair of shoes into the bin. It's then that these unwanted items set out on their journey to a new life. Mounir and his extended family live in a tall house in Maqattam hills, part of the Mansheit Nassr district. This is the largest of the Zabaleen settlements and home to about 30 thousand recyclers. Because it sits in a quarry it is invisible from the metropolis below. Every day Boutros sets out before dawn with his donkey cart, and while most Cairenes are still asleep in their beds, he collects their bags of rubbish from the three routes he has bought. Unlike many Western cities, Cairo household waste is not first separated and classified and when Boutros picks up plastic bags of rubbish from the street, he has no idea what they may contain. But years of experience have taught him that the narrow side streets in up-market Zamalek will provide the best pickings. He speaks with pride of the professionalism and ingenuity that turns almost every discarded item into money for the family. "Although we work with the wahiya in deciding which buildings and individual roads we can have, our father had already chosen the best routes overall," he says. "With the sort of things we can pick up around here, we've been able to build up a real recycling business and everyone works together -- even the women." Boutros is alluding to the next step in the process when the women of the household sort out the waste into various categories. What can't be fed to the swine or composted, divides up into plastic and paper (eight per cent), glass and textiles (one per cent) and, metal (five per cent.) The work is central to Zabaleen success, but it requires concentration and takes the six women all morning -- about four hours. In the past the women used to contract diseases from cuts inflicted by the glass and infections from the rotting food waste. But charities and health workers have intervened to improve conditions for the Zabaleen. Mary Assad who runs an local organization that targets women's health, says that one simple change in the way Cairo's rubbish is dealt with would make a huge difference to the lives of these women. "If the authorities would ensure that the rubbish is separated at source into paper and plastic and that food was disposed of in a different bag or bin," she explains, "it would save these women a lot of time." "The hours that they are rummaging through this filthy mess could be spent on generating income. Environmental Quality International have carried out surveys and a pilot scheme. The improvements in health and hygiene are tremendous." Instead the authorities chose a different course. Wishing to distance themselves from the stigma of having unregulated donkey carts on the streets of the capital city, they invited Italian and Spanish waste companies to bid for the work and ended up signing lucrative contracts for the removal of rubbish along specific routes. The European way is to depend on dump trucks that mechanically compress all rubbish, reducing it in volume by three to one. After this, of course, no recycling is possible. ![]() Private collectors buy up routes from which they then collect the waste. |