pesticides
Mercedes Sayagues
Activists are battling to stop a Danish- funded project to burn pesticides in a dilapidated cement factory in Matola, near Maputo.
Burning toxic waste in cement kilns creates dangerous cancer-causing compounds known as dioxins and furans. Strict standards must be maintained for safety. It is doubtful whether the Portuguese-owned factory, which has a dismal worker-safety and pollution record, and Mozambique’s lax and corruption-ridden administration can enforce them.
“This factory would not be open for one day in Denmark,” scoffs Antonio Reina, regional director of the Endangered Wildlife Trust.
Reina belongs to an informal coalition of environmental and community activists called Livaningo (“to shed light”, in Shangaan) that has been fighting the proposal since mid- 1998.
On paper, the project has a worthy goal: to help Mozambique dispose of 500 tons of obsolete pesticides – 42 tons containing products banned worldwide, ranked as class one, the most dangerous – while creating a national capacity to deal with toxic waste.
The Danida-funded project recommended that a Danish firm, Monberg & Thorsen, would set up a waste station in Matola. MGF, a Danish firm, did the environmental impact assessment. The total cost was $8,8-million.
However, a second, independent assessment demanded by Livaningo estimated that exporting the pesticides would be cheaper and safer. It would cost $2,2-million to return about 200 tons to the original producers, Bayer and Zeneca, and send the remainder to, for example, Holfontein in South Africa, 600km from Maputo.
Even more alarmingly, activists discovered that the Mozambican government had authorised in 1996 an obscure company called International Waste Group Mozambique (IWG) to import hazardous waste from abroad for disposal in the country.
This would contravene three major international conventions to stop the dumping of toxic substances into poor countries willing to take them for a price: Bamako, Lom IV and the Basel convention which Denmark championed. Livaningo wonders whether the incineration of pesticides would be a test for later burning of imported toxic waste.
Denmark hotly denies any link between the two projects, but as Greenpeace speculated: “Denmark appears willing to facilitate dirty-waste trade by giving away waste- attracting and polluting Danish technology to establish a waste station that could end receiving hazardous waste from Europe and North America.”
Francisco Mabjaia, secretary general at the Ministry for the Environment, says the authorisation for IWG has since been revoked.
However, even without imported toxic waste, the incineration of pesticides in Matola is worrisome enough.
Clouds of dust frequently hang over the city, Mozambique’s second largest. Two weeks ago, residents called Livaningo to report that the factory chimneys were spewing dense, black smoke. It turned out the electrofilters were down for 40 minutes. Residents complain of a high incidence of respiratory diseases. Asthma and bronchitis are chronic among children.
Another problem is the storage of 500 tons of obsolete pesticides at the waste station set up in the old warehouse of agricultural company Boror, in Matola, along a busy avenue, among factories, shops and homes, close to old, leaky water pipes that could easily be infiltrated with residual toxins.
The second environmental impact assessment says that choosing the Boror warehouse was “a mistake, given its physical risks and proximity to residential zones and eco- systems”.
The site was already contaminated, as scientists have denounced since 1995, and was not decontaminated before storing this batch of old pesticides.
Last week, the Food and Agriculture Organisation warned about the danger posed by faulty storage of obsolete pesticides in developing countries, where metal drums are corroding and leaking and could contaminate irrigation and drinking water.
Reina says drums at Boror have been left uncovered and unlabelled, and some have exploded due to heat. Residents say that when pesticides leaked out during last season’s heavy rains, surrounding grass yellowed and died. The liquid was bombed out to a nearby lagoon. Unconfirmed reports from neighbours say two people died after eating fish from the lagoon
Danida official Peter Larsen declined to comment. “The decision is in the hands of the Mozambican government and we will abide by it, but we stand by our study,” said Larsen.
As Livaningo informed residents, anger mounted. Neighbours wanted to march to Maputo to deliver a protest to Minister of the Environment Bernardo Ferraz.
“Matola is not Mozambique’s rubbish bin and we want that rubbish out of here,” said Eduardo Eugenio Nhabonga, a resident.
On May 15, about 60 community and church leaders met Livaningo to discuss the second assessment. They proposed to create neighbourhood committees, to meet the municipal council, “and if we need to go to the streets, we shall go”, said one.
A grassroots movement not linked to a political party is a new phenomenon in Mozambique. This is the first time that civil society has successfully mobilised over an environmental issue and challenged a state- approved and donor-funded project.
Environmental activists were alerted last year by an article in the daily Metical. Janice Lemos, an executive secretary at the Polana hotel with no green experience, contacted Greenpeace. In August, two toxic waste incineration specialists arrived in Maputo and met concerned NGOs.
Livaningo says Danida has been arrogant, not responding during months to its letters. Although invited, Danida did not attended its first press conference last August. Danida only agreed to meet Livaningo after it threatened a sit-in at the Polana while a Danida auditing team was visiting.
Livaningo sent Aurelio Gomes in October to explain its objections to the Danish Parliament and press.
“Incinerating toxic waste is contested in Europe and Denmark is bringing its polluting technology here,” says Lemos. “This double standard is not fair.”
The Ministry for the Environment agreed to a second, independent environmental impact assessment carried out earlier this year by consultant firm Impacto, with British firm Environmental Resources Management and the South African Council for Scientific and Industrial Research. Its results, critical of incineration, were discussed at public meetings in Matola and Maputo.
Mabjaia points out that the ministry has made concessions, agreeing to a new assessment, consulting residents and improving technical aspects, but Livaningo has made none.
“Livaningo is doing its job awakening civil society,” he says, “but we must do ours, creating a national capacity to deal with toxic waste without depending on other countries.”
The project is on hold, waiting for Ferraz to make up his mind.