Trash to cash: Circular economy and informal waste workers
What do you do immediately after buying a bottle of water from a store?
You drink the water and then throw the empty bottle into the dustbin without giving it a second thought. But have you ever considered that this very piece of discarded plastic can become a source of livelihood for some people?
In developing countries like Nepal, growing urbanization and increased plastic usage lead to a significant rise in plastic waste accumulation, becoming one of the pressing environmental challenges. Nepal produces approximately 4,900 tonnes of solid waste daily, with plastic comprising 13-16 percent. In Kathmandu alone, over 1,200 metric tonnes of waste is generated every day, a major portion of which is plastic. The extensive use of single-use plastics and insufficient management infrastructure causes river contamination, clogged drainage systems and overflowing landfills with non-biodegradable waste. While plastic waste accumulation continues to grow, informal waste workers (IWWs) serve as the backbone of an unstructured yet essential recycling system. Collecting, sorting and selling recyclables by IWWs contributes to a circular economy where plastic waste is reintroduced into production cycles rather than being discarded.
In Nepal, the Solid Waste Management (SWM) Act and Rules, enacted in 2013, aimed to improve the management of municipal solid waste generated by households and industries. With an emphasis on the 3 Rs (reduce, reuse and recycle), the Act mandates municipal governments to encourage waste separation at the source. Enacted prior to the formation of a three-tier government structure, the SWM Act falls short in addressing important waste types, including plastic, electronic, demolition and disaster waste. Despite making up 16 percent of all waste, plastic has not been adequately addressed by current regulations. The Plastic Bag Regulation and Control Directive of 2011 banned the production of bags smaller than 20 microns, addressing the challenges in recycling ultra-thin plastic. Furthermore, plastic flowers were prohibited from being imported, sold, distributed and stored in 2022.
Waste management in Nepal encompasses collection, classification, and disposal as prime responsibilities of local authorities. Once waste is separated, non-recyclables are transported to landfills, and recyclables are funnelled to both formal and informal markets. Collection methods differ across municipalities, with distinct practices in the urban cities within Kathmandu Valley. Kathmandu Metropolitan City manages waste through door-to-door services, vehicle collection, and roadside pickups, with 10 percent of the municipal budget allocated for waste management activities: street cleaning, transportation, and disposal. Municipalities regulate the transit of waste from authorized collection points to dump sites with a public-private partnership. Complementing this formal system, informal waste workers operate beyond municipal reach to recover recyclables and channel them back to the recycling stream.
Behind the scenes of our everyday consumption exists an entire ecosystem, sustained by those who survive on the disregarded materials. Informal waste workers, often unnoticed but essential, are key players in urban waste management. From scavenging through landfills to sorting waste from streets, they form a chain in the recycling process. Armed with sacks and carts, these workers recover recyclables from outside the scope of formal services and deliver them to scrap dealers, ‘Kawadi’, giving them a second life. Despite their crucial role in the circular economy, informal waste workers remain invisible to the formal system. With no formal recognition, legal protections or social security, they are vulnerable to financial instability and unsafe working conditions.
Every day, an estimated 19,000 informal waste workers navigate the streets, landfills, and scrap centres of Kathmandu Valley, acting as a catalyst for the recycling ecosystem. Hired through verbal agreements and operating within informal networks, with bare hands and little to no safety gear, they handle piles of contaminated waste, risking exposure to sharp objects, toxic chemicals and infectious diseases. Extended hours in harsh weather with inadequate hygiene facilities push their physical limit. While wandering in the local streets, they frequently encounter harassment and prejudicial views. Many young people are forced into this labour despite the risk of serious health hazards and lack of educational prospects.
“While the world shut down during the Covid-19 pandemic, we never did. We risked our lives collecting waste from every household, but people in my community cordoned off my house with ropes, assuming I would transmit Covid-19 because of my work,” shared a door-to-door waste collector.
During the Covid-19 pandemic, while the world stayed indoors, informal waste workers continued their work, ensuring that cities remained clean. Despite putting their health at risk by collecting waste from households, they received neither recognition nor support; instead, they faced rejection and stigma. Fear and misinformation of virus transmission led to their social isolation, worsening their already vulnerable situation. No healthcare support from the government left them to fend for themselves amid the global crisis.
Societal prejudices and discrimination undermine the dignity of waste workers and restrict their access to better opportunities. Their occupation is unfairly stigmatised as low-status and dirty, perpetuating a negative stereotype. This misconception wrongly associates waste workers with being uneducated or unworthy of respect. Society equates their labour with poverty, further deepening their marginalization. Consequently, waste workers are subjected to disrespect and isolation, with their families also bearing the weight of discrimination. These deeply entrenched biases not only diminish their dignity but also trap them in a cycle of poverty.
In the shadows of an unstructured waste management system, the circular economy offers a path forward—reintroduces waste into resources. Behind every rescued piece of plastic holds an untold story of informal waste workers who keep recyclables in motion—from landfills to the economy.
Their contribution remains invisible in policy discussions, with their labour erased from the prospect of sustainability. These workers are more than collectors; they safeguard our environment while enduring hazardous conditions. Beyond policy reforms, social biases must evolve. Informal waste workers are not the symbol of poverty but an agent for environmental conservation. The essence of a circular economy lies not only in the 3R principles of recovering, reusing, and recycling materials but also in valuing the people who make this possible.
