Asbestosis has killed two employees and threatens the lives of hundreds more at the power station near Cape Town. Andy Duffy reports
Terry Hudsons reward for providing electricity to the people of Cape Town is the prospect of a slow, agonising death. His friend, John MacGillycuddy, and seven others share the same fate. Two of their former colleagues at the Athlone power station are already dead. And another 157 workers more than half the stations workforce will spend the rest of their lives wondering who among them will be next.
Depending on who is talking, the men are either victims of a tragic accident for which no one can be blamed, or victims of gross negligence. The only certainty is the identity of the killer: asbestos.
Athlone power station sits alongside the N2 on the outskirts of the city, is owned by the municipality and provides up to 30% of Cape Towns electricity needs. When it was built in the early 1970s, it was insulated extensively with asbestos, particularly around the boiler room section. Asbestos, if not properly maintained and coated, flakes easily and breaks down into airborne fibres.
At times it was so dusty that if you were working alongside someone, you couldnt see their face, says Hudson, a former supervisor. He left in 1994 after 26 years at the Athlone station. They used air hoses to blow the dust away, but it settled everywhere, coating everything. Hudson adds that large chunks of asbestos material routinely fell from the walls, and were left unattended .
Exposure could be described as frequent to continuous, says the work-history report Athlones management later compiled for Hudson.
The same report, however, says measures to control the release of asbestos fibres were introduced in 1987. Until then, apparently, no one had realised the dangers of the material. The municipalitys medical surveillance of the employees 168 at the time, 166 now also began.
And from that point, the municipality says, the asbestos problem should have stopped. Precautions were taken, says the citys chief electrical engineer, Fred Berwyn- Taylor, who is responsible for Athlone. With asbestos one is playing with a time bomb, and if you know its dangerous and you still play, youre an idiot.
Nevertheless, city council minutes from August 1997 show asbestos insulation sat exposed with fibres even in the stations mess room five years after such safety precautions were supposed to have taken effect. The same minutes also discuss allegations that exposed fibres still permeated the plant in 1995, and are now blowing out into the neighbouring residential areas (both allegations were denied).
The minutes also show Athlone will have to wait until December 1998 before all its asbestos is finally removed. Hudson also has pictures, purportedly taken inside the station in 1991 and 1994, which show crumbling walls and exposed metal gauze because the sealant holding the asbestos has failed with fibres thinly carpeting the surrounding ground.
Confirming the validity of the pictures is difficult. Athlones management is barred from comment, referring all queries to Berwyn-Taylor, who says the asbestos problem surfaced and was dealt with long before he took up his job in 1993.
There are also some questions among some workers about the medical checks. Such testing somehow failed for three years to detect anything wrong with Hudson. But then he developed back pains, and then chest pains, and then each time he breathed his chest sounded like crackling paper.
In 1990 he went to an outside specialist, who diagnosed asbestosis. Asbestos fibres had buried themselves into his lung-lining over the years. His lungs responded by building scar tissue over the fibres gradually incapacitating themselves in the process.
Hudson now has less than 50% of his normal lung capacity. The disease, which can take up to 20 years to fully take grip, is debilitating and leaves its victims gasping for breath. It is not always fatal. However, in around 90% of asbestosis cases, lung cancer usually follows.
Hudson says his colleagues greeted news of his illness with resignation. Everybody by then knew about the dangers, and it was just like someone else has got a problem. The blokes wouldnt stand together because they were scared of losing their jobs.
Hudson also bickered with another shift supervisor, AJ Porky van Rensburg, about the dust and whether the men should have to work in such conditions. I told him, Youre going to change your tune when you find out you have a problem.
As it turned out, he didnt have time for that. Van Rensburg died in 1995, six months after he fell ill, it is thought, from mesothelioma. This disease, directly related to asbestos, is a particularly painful form of lung cancer, which spreads by eating into the chest wall and nerve endings. It cannot be treated and usually kills within three to six months.
Dr Neil White, head of the occupational medicine clinic at Groote Schuur hospital, says the average incidence of mesothelioma is two cases per million people a year. Athlone has confirmed one case among the 168 tested employees so far.
White treats Hudson and a number of other Athlone employees. He declines to be drawn on the measures the municipality has taken on the health tests. But he adds that much of his work with the Athlone victims is getting the Department of Labour, through the Workmans Compensation Scheme, to respond to the workers plight.
There are a lot of frustrations in dealing with that system, he adds. They are not well equipped to evaluate medical claims.
Hudson, now 51, lives with his wife, daughter and grand-daughter on a small pension, which will be cut by 60% when he dies. He receives R750 a month as compensation for his illness.
His main memory of the last days working at Athlone was the letter he received from the office of the former mayor of Cape Town. The letter, apparently written in consultation with the power stations management, wished Hudson well and a speedy recovery.
CAPTIOON: Terry Hudson: Each time he breathes his chest sounds like crackling paper. photograph: rodger bosch