Sprite is ditching its signature green bottle—which has been in use for more than 60 years—and replacing it with a more sustainable clear container.

The Coca-Cola Co.—Sprite’s parent company—in a statement on Wednesday said that the new design will start rolling out on August 1 and is part of an effort to “support a circular economy for plastic packaging."

The current green plastic is made of polyethylene terephthalate (PET), which is often converted into single-use items such as carpets and clothing.

But the company said that it is easier to reuse clear plastic than green one for new bottles.

“When recycled, clear PET Sprite bottles can be remade into [new] bottles, helping drive a circular economy for plastic," Julian Ochoa, chief executive officer of R3CYCLE —a recycling company that works with Coca-Cola Consolidated, said in a statement&nbsp;Wednesday.

However, cans and packaging graphics of Sprite will still be green, but its logo will change.

The lemon-lime soft drink has been packaged in green colour ever since it was first launched in the US in 1961. According to Coke, the drink has been one of its bestselling products.

Coke said the move to switch to the clear plastic bottle would help support “a circular economy for plastic packaging”.&nbsp;

In some foreign countries, Sprite has already switched to clear plastic bottles with specific flavours like cherry and sugar-free.

Coca-Cola also announced that the bottled water brand Dasani will be made from 100 per cent recycled PET plastic. The move will reduce plastic waste by 20 million pounds compared with what was used in 2019, according to the release.

WATCH WION LIVE HERE

<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="350" src="https://www.wionews.com/live-tv/embed?autoplay=1&amp;mute=1" width="100%"></iframe>

Sprite is ditching its signature green bottle—which has been in use for more than 60 years—and replacing it with a more sustainable clear container. The Coca-Cola Co.

Sprite is ditching its signature green bottle—which has been in use for more than 60 years—and replacing it with a more sustainable clear container. The Coca-Cola Co.—Sprite’s parent company—in a statement on Wednesday said that the new design will start rolling out on August 1 and is part of an effort to “support a circular economy for plastic packaging." The current green plastic is made of polyethylene terephthalate (PET), which is often converted into single-use items such as carpets and clothing. But the company said that it is easier to reuse clear plastic than green one for new bottles. “When recycled, clear PET Sprite bottles can be remade into [new] bottles, helping drive a circular economy for plastic," Julian Ochoa, chief executive officer of R3CYCLE —a recycling company that works with Coca-Cola Consolidated, said in a statement Wednesday. However, cans and packaging graphics of Sprite will still be green, but its logo will change. The lemon-lime soft drink has been packaged in green colour ever since it was first launched in the US in 1961. According to Coke, the drink has been one of its bestselling products. Coke said the move to switch to the clear plastic bottle would help support “a circular economy for plastic packaging”. In some foreign countries, Sprite has already switched to clear plastic bottles with specific flavours like cherry and sugar-free. Coca-Cola also announced that the bottled water brand Dasani will be made from 100 per cent recycled PET plastic. The move will reduce plastic waste by 20 million pounds compared with what was used in 2019, according to the release. WATCH WION LIVE HERE

Sprite ditches its signature green bottle for clear white, cites environmental reasons

Circular economy has potential to create nearly one-and-half crore jobs in next five to seven years and create lakhs of new entrepreneurs, NITI Aayog CEO Amitabh Kant said here on Monday.

Speaking at 'Circular Economy Symposium 2019' organised by FICCI, Kant said that resource circularity and sustainable development are the need of the hour to implement the circular economy.

"Circular economy has the potential to generate 1.4 crore jobs in the next 5-7 years &amp; create lakhs of new entrepreneurs. Resource circularity is need of the hour to implement circular economy," he said.

A circular economy is an alternative to a traditional linear economy (make, use, dispose) in which resources are kept in use for as long as possible, the maximum value is extracted from them whilst in use, the products and materials are recovered and regenerated at the end of each service life.&nbsp;

This economic system is aimed at minimising waste and making the most of resources.

Kant underlined the need for legislation to promote the circular economy in the country. "Several countries have recognised the centrality of the circularity as the new paradigm for sustainable development. They have not only embraced the concept of circular economy in their daily life but also brought in regulations to ensure higher compliance and promote more reuse, refurbishment and recycling," he said.

He said that by 2050, the world population would reach 9.7 billion of which 3 billion people would prosper to middle-class consumption level.

This would require 71 per cent more resources per capita, thereby raising total mineral and material demand from 50 billion tonnes in 2014 to 130 billion tonnes in 2050, he noted.

The NITI Aayog also stressed on the need for promoting non-government organisations to spread awareness and developing a circular economy as a national agenda.

Circular economy has potential to create nearly one-and-half crore jobs in next five to seven years and create lakhs of new entrepreneurs, NITI Aayog CEO Amitabh Kant said here on Monday.

Circular economy has potential to create nearly one-and-half crore jobs in next five to seven years and create lakhs of new entrepreneurs, NITI Aayog CEO Amitabh Kant said here on Monday. Speaking at 'Circular Economy Symposium 2019' organised by FICCI, Kant said that resource circularity and sustainable development are the need of the hour to implement the circular economy. "Circular economy has the potential to generate 1.4 crore jobs in the next 5-7 years & create lakhs of new entrepreneurs. Resource circularity is need of the hour to implement circular economy," he said. A circular economy is an alternative to a traditional linear economy (make, use, dispose) in which resources are kept in use for as long as possible, the maximum value is extracted from them whilst in use, the products and materials are recovered and regenerated at the end of each service life. This economic system is aimed at minimising waste and making the most of resources. Kant underlined the need for legislation to promote the circular economy in the country. "Several countries have recognised the centrality of the circularity as the new paradigm for sustainable development. They have not only embraced the concept of circular economy in their daily life but also brought in regulations to ensure higher compliance and promote more reuse, refurbishment and recycling," he said. He said that by 2050, the world population would reach 9.7 billion of which 3 billion people would prosper to middle-class consumption level. This would require 71 per cent more resources per capita, thereby raising total mineral and material demand from 50 billion tonnes in 2014 to 130 billion tonnes in 2050, he noted. The NITI Aayog also stressed on the need for promoting non-government organisations to spread awareness and developing a circular economy as a national agenda.

Circular economy can generate 1.4 crore jobs in next 5-7 years: NITI Aayog CEO Amitabh Kant

<h1>The small hands of Moroccan recycling</h1>

<figure><img alt="File 20170519 12263 vvjzz7" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170165/width754/file-20170519-12263-vvjzz7.jpg" />
<figcaption>A wastepicker working in the streets of Casablanca. (Photo Pascal Garret, July 2013) <a class="source" href="http://www.bab-el-louk.org/">www.bab-el-louk.org</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></figcaption>
</figure>

<a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/benedicte-florin-348742">B&eacute;n&eacute;dicte Florin</a>, <a href="http://theconversation.com/institutions/universite-francois-rabelais-de-tours-2282">Universit&eacute; Fran&ccedil;ois-Rabelais de Tours</a> and <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/mustapha-azaitraoui-369200">Mustapha Azaitraoui</a>, <a href="http://theconversation.com/institutions/universite-hassan-ier-3095">Universit&eacute; Hassan Ier</a>

This article is based on a series about recycling documented in the 2017 book <a href="http://www.pressesdesciencespo.fr/fr/livre/?GCOI=27246100106200">What to do with leftovers? Re-employment in Accumulation Societies</a>. The photographs by <a href="http://www.bab-el-louk.org/">Pascal Garret</a>, sociologist and freelance photographer, who collaborates with social scientists on the theme of waste recovery and recycling.

<hr />
Casablanca, Morocco, summer 2016. With constant heat often above 30&deg;C, garbage can quickly suffocate the four millions inhabitants of this city. But as visitors navigate through the second-largest city of the Maghrebian region, small hands are making sure that large quantities of waste do not pile up on landfills by offering them new life.

These men and women belong to populations that anthropologist Delphine Corteel and sociologist St&eacute;phane Le Lay (<a href="https://www.cairn.info/travailleurs-des-dechets--9782749214368.htm">ERES, 2011</a>) have called &ldquo;waste workers&rdquo;.

Despite their tremendous and tiring work, they remain excluded from the Moroccan society because of the uncleanliness of their work, and the nature of their living spaces.

They live on the margins of legal urban areas, in slums and makeshift houses, which are regularly demolished or threatened by real estate and urban projects. While working in the streets, they are often victims of violence either committed by the authorities or other inhabitants.

We conducted interviews with many members of this community <a href="https://halshs.archives-ouvertes.fr/halshs-01249663">from 2011</a>. Our objective was to show that these waste collectors, sorters, semi-wholesalers, recyclers and transporters often consider their work as a real profession and believe that their role is essential, especially given that environmental issues have never been higher on the agenda.

According to our multi-site surveys, more than a third of Casablanca&rsquo;s household waste would escape rejection from landfills.

Far from presenting an image of misery and exclusion, we wish to portray this population free from the stigma that usually accompanies activities linked to waste.

<figure class="align-center zoomable"><a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170162/area14mp/file-20170519-12226-tpm669.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170162/width754/file-20170519-12226-tpm669.jpg" /></a>

<figcaption>Overview of one part of a waste recycling area in Casablanca, Lahraouine. In the background, you can see the social housing district of Attacharouk. (Photo Pascal Garret/MuCEM, January 2015)</figcaption>
</figure>

Situated on the outskirts of Casablanca and in a topographic depression, the Lahraouine district remains virtually invisible from the outside. Most workers live in neighbouring douars (slums) where running water is absent and electricity is supplied by generators or illegal connections.

Several real estate projects have put pressure on the city to revamp the <a href="http://www.lemonde.fr/afrique/article/2015/04/15/casablanca-construit-son-reve-de-place-economique-internationale_4616523_3212.html">district and get rid of its slums</a>. As the waste collectors do not owner their lands and there&rsquo;s no rehousing project, they live in fear of eviction.

<figure class="align-center zoomable"><a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170167/area14mp/file-20170519-12231-td08us.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170167/width754/file-20170519-12231-td08us.jpg" /></a>

<figcaption>A bouar returning from his tour in the outskirts of Casablanca. (Photo Pascal Garret, May 2016)</figcaption>
</figure>

This bouar (the word is derived from the French word &eacute;boueur for garbage man) returns from the city with a cart filled with his daily collection. But the increasing number of containers buried in the affluent neighbourhoods of Casablanca reduces access to this waste resource.

More often than not, the bouara (plural for bouar) have to limit their work to open bins in working-class neighbourhoods. They are also more tolerated in these areas than in the city&rsquo;s central districts or middle-upper class areas. In the latter, police can harass them, even arrest them and confiscate their donkeys and carts.

<figure class="align-center zoomable"><a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170277/area14mp/file-20170522-25068-19nhlyf.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170277/width754/file-20170522-25068-19nhlyf.jpg" /></a>

<figcaption>Inside view of a gelssa of Lahraouine. (Photo Pascal Garret, April 2017)</figcaption>
</figure>

The gelssas (a term derived from the verb gels, which means sit down in darija, the language of the Maghreb region) are enclosures of various sizes surrounded by palisades (metal sheets, tarps, boards or dried waste that form a kind of wall) where the bouara centralise their harvest after each city tour.

Their collection is sold by weight and consists mainly of cardboard, plastics, metals, glass, fabrics and vegetable waste. Valuable objects, after changing hands several times, will eventually end up in one of the city&rsquo;s flea markets (joutiya). Nothing that can be used is left behind.

<figure class="align-center zoomable"><a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170280/area14mp/file-20170522-25041-9c0nul.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170280/width754/file-20170522-25041-9c0nul.jpg" /></a>

<figcaption>A worker sorting waste in a gelssa specialised on plastic materials. (Photo Pascal Garret, May 2016)</figcaption>
</figure>

The bouara of Casablanca can make about &euro;20 daily, but many must rent their equipment (cart and animal) from their bosses for &euro;2.

Some gelssas are versatile sorting and recycling sites (plastics, wood, metal, rags), where materials are sorted by type. Others specialise in a particular material, as is the case below for plastic.

<figure class="align-center zoomable"><a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170282/area14mp/file-20170522-25076-jox0vi.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170282/width754/file-20170522-25076-jox0vi.jpg" /></a>

<figcaption>There is no electricity in the gelssas and this machine is powered by a generator. (Photo Pascal Garret, April 2017)</figcaption>
</figure>

After collection and sorting, some materials have to be compacted and crushed to take up less space, which adds value. The materials will then be sold to informal sector wholesalers or to the formal sector through pick-ups or trucks sent to carry the waste.

<figure class="align-center zoomable"><a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170279/area14mp/file-20170522-25076-9jjyyc.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170279/width754/file-20170522-25076-9jjyyc.jpg" /></a>

<figcaption>Women sorting plastic waste. (Photo Pascal Garret, May 2016)</figcaption>
</figure>

In Lahraouine, we have not seen many women in the gelssas. Among the 3,000 active waste-recyclers we roughly counted, the majority are young men and we estimated that there were only 500 to 600 women. They are only assigned to sorting tasks.

The <a href="http://www.hcp.ma/Etude-d-Impact-de-la-crise-mondiale-sur-l-economie-marocaine_a867.html">economic crisis in Morocco</a> has led to an increase of waste workers in Casablanca.

<figure class="align-center zoomable"><a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170286/area14mp/file-20170522-25008-1jbpntt.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170286/width754/file-20170522-25008-1jbpntt.jpg" /></a>

<figcaption>The sheds of waste collectors are themselves made with waste. (Photo Pascal Garret, January 2015)</figcaption>
</figure>

Waste collectors come, for the most part, from the countryside to escape poverty. Some of them originate from very remote villages in the eastern regions of Casablanca.

Many, especially youngsters, come and go according to agricultural cycles. <a href="http://www.worldbank.org/en/news/feature/2016/10/17/poverty-has-fallen-in-the-maghreb-but-inequality-persists">Nearly 19% of Morocco&rsquo;s agriculturally dependent rural population</a> still lives in poverty or in danger of becoming impoverished. These seasonal workers are hosted by relatives in the douars of Lahraouine or live in sheds inside gelssas.

<figure class="align-center zoomable"><a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170285/area14mp/file-20170522-25041-wjvqkj.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170285/width754/file-20170522-25041-wjvqkj.jpg" /></a>

<figcaption>The boss of a gelssa posing with his horse. (Photo Pascal Garret, January 2015)</figcaption>
</figure>

This boss of a gelssa employs several waste collectors. He owns a few carts pulled by a donkey or a horse, and is a &ldquo;middle-income earner&rdquo;.

There is a very strong hierarchy in the world of recycling. At the lower level are the simple bouara and women who sort and earn low incomes. At the end of the higher range are the bosses of large gelssas who own one or more trucks and plastic crushers.

Gelssas bosses are very familiar with the cost and value of materials on the market and keep themselves updated through the internet or their mobile phones. They know exactly where, to whom and when to sell to get the maximum benefit from their wares.

<figure class="align-center zoomable"><a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170288/area14mp/file-20170522-25027-1l4gh1j.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/files/170288/width754/file-20170522-25027-1l4gh1j.jpg" /></a>

<figcaption>A waste collector at work in the Mediouna dump. (Photo Pascal Garret/MuCEM, January 2015)</figcaption>
</figure>

Situated about 20 kilometres south of Greater Casablanca, <a href="https://halshs.archives-ouvertes.fr/halshs-01524893">the Mediouna&rsquo;s landfill</a> receives nearly 3,500 tons of household waste each day, brought in by the trucks of waste-recycling companies.

At this site, which should normally mark the end of life for Casablanca&rsquo;s waste, some 600 illegal waste collectors extract about 1000 tons of materials daily that will be re-injected into the informal and formal recycling circuit.

The business of recycling factories and export wholesalers depends heavily on the activities of street collectors or the Mediouna landfill from whom they buy recovered materials at a lower cost. Secondary raw materials produced by the formal sector of the economy are largely derived from the work of these hidden workers.

Blurring the borders, this small world of informal workers is thus &ndash; directly or indirectly &ndash; well inserted in the economic chain on every level: local, regional, national and even international. The PET brought in by waste collectors, for example, is exported to China.

Many of them have also fully understood and integrated environmental arguments. One, called Mustapha, told us in an interview in 2013:

<blockquote>
We contribute to the economy of Morocco. It is thanks to us that this waste is recycled instead of being simply buried or burned. This is our livelihood, it&rsquo;s our survival and it makes our community live
</blockquote>

This wholesaler even tried to create an association for the waste collectors of the Lahraouine district in order to get them officially acknowledged and organised. But so far he has faced indifference or opposition from the authorities.

His failure highlights the perpetual stigma attached to the profession of waste collecting. It also shows their isolation and relegation to the spatial and social margins of the economic capital of Morocco.

Yet, <a href="http://globalrec.org/en/">elsewhere in the world</a>, innovative experiments, mobilisation of reclaiming communities and associations are signs that integration, access to social rights and, more broadly, recognition or informal waste collectors are possible.

<hr />
<img alt="The Conversation" height="1" src="https://counter.theconversation.edu.au/content/74878/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" width="1" />B&eacute;n&eacute;dicte Florin and Pascal Garret also collaborated for the <a href="http://www.mucem.org/programme/exposition-et-temps-forts/vies-dordures">Vies d&#39;ordures, waste economics exhibition at the Museum of Civilisation of Europe and the Mediterranean (MuCEM, Marseille)</a>, March 22 to August 14 2017.

<a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/benedicte-florin-348742">B&eacute;n&eacute;dicte Florin</a>, Ma&icirc;tre de conf&eacute;rences, <a href="http://theconversation.com/institutions/universite-francois-rabelais-de-tours-2282">Universit&eacute; Fran&ccedil;ois-Rabelais de Tours</a> and <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/mustapha-azaitraoui-369200">Mustapha Azaitraoui</a>, Enseignant-chercheur en g&eacute;ographie humaine, <a href="http://theconversation.com/institutions/universite-hassan-ier-3095">Universit&eacute; Hassan Ier</a>

This article was originally published on <a href="http://theconversation.com">The Conversation</a>. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-small-hands-of-moroccan-recycling-74878">original article</a>.

The small hands of Moroccan recycling A wastepicker working in the streets of Casablanca. (Photo Pascal Garret, July 2013) www.bab-el-louk.org, CC BY-NC-ND Bénédicte Florin, Université François-Rabelais de Tours and Mustapha Azaitraoui, Université Hassan Ier This article is based on a series about recycling documented in the 2017 book What to do with leftovers?

The small hands of Moroccan recycling A wastepicker working in the streets of Casablanca. (Photo Pascal Garret, July 2013) www.bab-el-louk.org, CC BY-NC-ND Bénédicte Florin, Université François-Rabelais de Tours and Mustapha Azaitraoui, Université Hassan Ier This article is based on a series about recycling documented in the 2017 book What to do with leftovers? Re-employment in Accumulation Societies. The photographs by Pascal Garret, sociologist and freelance photographer, who collaborates with social scientists on the theme of waste recovery and recycling. Casablanca, Morocco, summer 2016. With constant heat often above 30°C, garbage can quickly suffocate the four millions inhabitants of this city. But as visitors navigate through the second-largest city of the Maghrebian region, small hands are making sure that large quantities of waste do not pile up on landfills by offering them new life. These men and women belong to populations that anthropologist Delphine Corteel and sociologist Stéphane Le Lay (ERES, 2011) have called “waste workers”. Despite their tremendous and tiring work, they remain excluded from the Moroccan society because of the uncleanliness of their work, and the nature of their living spaces. They live on the margins of legal urban areas, in slums and makeshift houses, which are regularly demolished or threatened by real estate and urban projects. While working in the streets, they are often victims of violence either committed by the authorities or other inhabitants. We conducted interviews with many members of this community from 2011. Our objective was to show that these waste collectors, sorters, semi-wholesalers, recyclers and transporters often consider their work as a real profession and believe that their role is essential, especially given that environmental issues have never been higher on the agenda. According to our multi-site surveys, more than a third of Casablanca’s household waste would escape rejection from landfills. Far from presenting an image of misery and exclusion, we wish to portray this population free from the stigma that usually accompanies activities linked to waste. Overview of one part of a waste recycling area in Casablanca, Lahraouine. In the background, you can see the social housing district of Attacharouk. (Photo Pascal Garret/MuCEM, January 2015) Situated on the outskirts of Casablanca and in a topographic depression, the Lahraouine district remains virtually invisible from the outside. Most workers live in neighbouring douars (slums) where running water is absent and electricity is supplied by generators or illegal connections. Several real estate projects have put pressure on the city to revamp the district and get rid of its slums. As the waste collectors do not owner their lands and there’s no rehousing project, they live in fear of eviction. A bouar returning from his tour in the outskirts of Casablanca. (Photo Pascal Garret, May 2016) This bouar (the word is derived from the French word éboueur for garbage man) returns from the city with a cart filled with his daily collection. But the increasing number of containers buried in the affluent neighbourhoods of Casablanca reduces access to this waste resource. More often than not, the bouara (plural for bouar) have to limit their work to open bins in working-class neighbourhoods. They are also more tolerated in these areas than in the city’s central districts or middle-upper class areas. In the latter, police can harass them, even arrest them and confiscate their donkeys and carts. Inside view of a gelssa of Lahraouine. (Photo Pascal Garret, April 2017) The gelssas (a term derived from the verb gels, which means sit down in darija, the language of the Maghreb region) are enclosures of various sizes surrounded by palisades (metal sheets, tarps, boards or dried waste that form a kind of wall) where the bouara centralise their harvest after each city tour. Their collection is sold by weight and consists mainly of cardboard, plastics, metals, glass, fabrics and vegetable waste. Valuable objects, after changing hands several times, will eventually end up in one of the city’s flea markets (joutiya). Nothing that can be used is left behind. A worker sorting waste in a gelssa specialised on plastic materials. (Photo Pascal Garret, May 2016) The bouara of Casablanca can make about €20 daily, but many must rent their equipment (cart and animal) from their bosses for €2. Some gelssas are versatile sorting and recycling sites (plastics, wood, metal, rags), where materials are sorted by type. Others specialise in a particular material, as is the case below for plastic. There is no electricity in the gelssas and this machine is powered by a generator. (Photo Pascal Garret, April 2017) After collection and sorting, some materials have to be compacted and crushed to take up less space, which adds value. The materials will then be sold to informal sector wholesalers or to the formal sector through pick-ups or trucks sent to carry the waste. Women sorting plastic waste. (Photo Pascal Garret, May 2016) In Lahraouine, we have not seen many women in the gelssas. Among the 3,000 active waste-recyclers we roughly counted, the majority are young men and we estimated that there were only 500 to 600 women. They are only assigned to sorting tasks. The economic crisis in Morocco has led to an increase of waste workers in Casablanca. The sheds of waste collectors are themselves made with waste. (Photo Pascal Garret, January 2015) Waste collectors come, for the most part, from the countryside to escape poverty. Some of them originate from very remote villages in the eastern regions of Casablanca. Many, especially youngsters, come and go according to agricultural cycles. Nearly 19% of Morocco’s agriculturally dependent rural population still lives in poverty or in danger of becoming impoverished. These seasonal workers are hosted by relatives in the douars of Lahraouine or live in sheds inside gelssas. The boss of a gelssa posing with his horse. (Photo Pascal Garret, January 2015) This boss of a gelssa employs several waste collectors. He owns a few carts pulled by a donkey or a horse, and is a “middle-income earner”. There is a very strong hierarchy in the world of recycling. At the lower level are the simple bouara and women who sort and earn low incomes. At the end of the higher range are the bosses of large gelssas who own one or more trucks and plastic crushers. Gelssas bosses are very familiar with the cost and value of materials on the market and keep themselves updated through the internet or their mobile phones. They know exactly where, to whom and when to sell to get the maximum benefit from their wares. A waste collector at work in the Mediouna dump. (Photo Pascal Garret/MuCEM, January 2015) Situated about 20 kilometres south of Greater Casablanca, the Mediouna’s landfill receives nearly 3,500 tons of household waste each day, brought in by the trucks of waste-recycling companies. At this site, which should normally mark the end of life for Casablanca’s waste, some 600 illegal waste collectors extract about 1000 tons of materials daily that will be re-injected into the informal and formal recycling circuit. The business of recycling factories and export wholesalers depends heavily on the activities of street collectors or the Mediouna landfill from whom they buy recovered materials at a lower cost. Secondary raw materials produced by the formal sector of the economy are largely derived from the work of these hidden workers. Blurring the borders, this small world of informal workers is thus – directly or indirectly – well inserted in the economic chain on every level: local, regional, national and even international. The PET brought in by waste collectors, for example, is exported to China. Many of them have also fully understood and integrated environmental arguments. One, called Mustapha, told us in an interview in 2013: We contribute to the economy of Morocco. It is thanks to us that this waste is recycled instead of being simply buried or burned. This is our livelihood, it’s our survival and it makes our community live This wholesaler even tried to create an association for the waste collectors of the Lahraouine district in order to get them officially acknowledged and organised. But so far he has faced indifference or opposition from the authorities. His failure highlights the perpetual stigma attached to the profession of waste collecting. It also shows their isolation and relegation to the spatial and social margins of the economic capital of Morocco. Yet, elsewhere in the world, innovative experiments, mobilisation of reclaiming communities and associations are signs that integration, access to social rights and, more broadly, recognition or informal waste collectors are possible. Bénédicte Florin and Pascal Garret also collaborated for the Vies d'ordures, waste economics exhibition at the Museum of Civilisation of Europe and the Mediterranean (MuCEM, Marseille), March 22 to August 14 2017. Bénédicte Florin, Maître de conférences, Université François-Rabelais de Tours and Mustapha Azaitraoui, Enseignant-chercheur en géographie humaine, Université Hassan Ier This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

The small hands of Moroccan recycling

circular-economy

Circular Economy, News on Circular Economy, stories on Circular Economy, articles on Circular Economy, Circular Economy stories at Wion, Circular Economy news, Circular Economy latest news