This was a tough assignment. I was making images around Johannesburg for World Environment Day 2018 and I thought I’d follow the trash to Robinson Deep, the oldest and biggest landfill in the city. I had a basic idea of where the things we throw away end up, but seeing our trash in real life, in that quantity, and not disintegrating, was eye-opening. The smell was overpowering. The sounds of tractors churned against the constant noise made by baby mice squeaking under the huge mounds of waste. I was probably stepping on them but I couldn’t see them, nor do anything differently. At one point I stepped on a cow’s head. Thank God I was wearing rubber boots that day – boots that the dozens of people eking out a living on the landfill didn’t have. They didn’t have any proper protective gear: no gloves, masks or proper shoes.
This image of a man carrying a giant bag that looks like a cape, with an ibis hovering over him, was made with a long lens. I was too far away to get to him in time to ask his name before he disappeared over the hill, but I spoke to many others there. They spoke of being ill from working on the landfill but not having a choice. Some of them cook and eat their meals on the site. Some even live there. I recall the moment when a truck arrived bearing a new load and everyone ran toward this waterfall of garbage to get whatever they could – the plastic or glass that could be taken to the buy-back centres and exchanged for a few rand. This scene is not particular to Johannesburg. It happens every day in landfills all over the world.
