STROLLING THROUGH Bridgetown recently, I stopped by an old hawker to purchase a clove of garlic. I could not help but notice that she was reading about the present garbage fiasco with the truckers.
I asked: “Mum, do understand what is the real problem with the truckers and the Government?” She replied: “The Government is asking the truck drivers to pay $25 to dump. I don’t see anything wrong wid that,” she mumbled.
I calmly said: “Mum, there is more to the mortar than the pestle. Would you like me to explain as I see it?” She condescended: “Go head, child.”
I sat on an old wooden bench next to this old veteran and tried as simply, but yet as thoroughly as possible, to explain what is the function of a landfill, a recycling plant and a transfer station. I told her about B’s and Scrap Man’s recycling plants.
I explained to her that it is $25 per tonne and not per load. She asked: “How much one of dem big trucks hold wid soil?” I quickly said “15 to 17 tonnes”. She reached for a lead pencil and an exercise book and did some calculations. I waited for a response but none came.
Her silence had me a little concerned. I then asked: “Gran, do you understand what I explained?” She nodded. I then prompted her to tell me what she understood. She stood, her back and shoulders as straight as a motivational speaker, her language changed from creole to Standard English. Her tray became a lectern and I her audience.
Convenient deal
“From what you have said, my child, somebody negotiated a very convenient deal. One rule for the Medes and another for the Persians. B’s and Scrap Man are paying you for your waste but you have to pay this Sustainable Barbados Recycling Centre (SBRC) person to take your stuff.”
She paused, and folded her lips over her gums. Her wrinkles partially disappeared and her face was fully flushed with blood caused by her anger.
“Does the Government charge you for any garbage that you take to B’s and Scrap Man? But I like those two, they are real recycling plants, plus they are bringing needed foreign exchange into this island. I don’t know what the other one is; that seems like a money making affair. I think that B’s and Scrap Man should be getting some of that $22.6 million that SBRC is guaranteed every year by the Government.”
She shifted to another point. “Transfer station,” she interjected. “Why do you have to pay SBRC hundreds of dollars to put your construction waste in their trucks and take it to Armag quarry? The maths and the common sense do not add up to me.”
At this point she reached for the old exercise book and the calculations that she did earlier. “From what I have here,” she said, “15 tonnes at $25 is $375 plus $65.62 for vat. That is $440.62 extra per load that somebody is getting. I would have to put some diesel in my truck and head to St Philipor some other place.”
Composing herself, she uttered: “SBRC is a private company. How come the Government is collecting taxes on their behalf? If this place is selling soil, mulch and a whole range of products, then SBRC is making money through the front door and through the back door at the same time.”
Very soberly, she spoke to me as if her life depended on it. “Sonny, I am old and gray. It is your battle, you must do something about it.”
As I stood to leave, she said: “You must stop by sometime and lewwe talk about dat gas to energy plant, cause dat is a mobbaton ah money – US$300 million? Dem figures catspraddle ma brain. This is an awful pill to swallow, worse than the garlic that you are buying,” she ended.
– Arrindel Evelyn