Zimbabwe's Scrap Metal Hunters Fight Climate Change a Piece at a Time

Al Arabiya

04-07-2025

'Any gold in there today?' Ezekiel Mabhiza called to a man hunched over a mound of trash, hoe in hand, rummaging through one of the many illegal dumpsites that scar Zimbabwe's capital. Mabhiza joined in. For the next several hours, he scoured the sites around Harare, using a stick or his bare hands to sift through piles of filth – from discarded diapers to broken appliances.
By midday, his pushcart was full. Springs from old mattresses, car parts, tin cans – it all added up to 66 kilograms (145 pounds) of salvaged metal. The haul earned him $8. It's enough to feed his five children for the day, maybe even cover a utility bill in a country where the majority of people survive through informal work. 'I have given up looking for a formal job,' the 36-year-old said. 'You walk the industrial areas all day and come back with nothing. This is my job now. I pay rent, my children eat and go to school.'
Across Harare, thousands like Mabhiza live off scrap metal. Quietly, they are helping to sustain a cleaner environment and combat climate change. Making steel relies heavily on burning highly polluting coal, and the industry accounts for nearly eight percent of the carbon dioxide emissions that come from the energy sector and contribute to Earth's warming, according to the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, or OECD. It takes less energy to turn scrap metal into new steel, so the pickers are helping reduce carbon emissions with their work, in addition to cleaning up metals that would otherwise pollute the city.
Harare generates about 1,000 tons of waste every day, most of which goes uncollected, according to the city council. People and companies frustrated with erratic collection dump trash on roadsides and open spaces. They sometimes burn it. Once-pristine neighborhoods have become polluted eyesores. Recently, the city council partnered with a green energy waste management company to improve collection amid contested accusations of corruption. But for now, informal pickers like Mabhiza remain indispensable. 'It's a dirty job, yes, but people rarely understand how important it is,' said Fungai Mataga, who runs a scrap metal collection center where Mabhiza and others sell their finds. 'They are society's cleaning crew. Every piece of metal they bring here is one less item polluting our land.'
Globally, this kind of scrap metal is vital to the steel industry, accounting for roughly a third of metallic raw materials used in steel production, according to the OECD. With growing concerns over the environmental impact of mining and rising interest in circular economies, demand for recycled materials is increasing. 'Informal pickers are the unsung heroes,' said Joyce Machiri, head of the mining and extractives program at the Zimbabwe Environmental Lawyers Association. 'When you look at scrap, no one would actually say, 'Wow, this a good job.' But look at it this way: these are some of the green jobs we are talking about,' Machiri said.
Many steelmakers cannot afford to invest in new, cleaner technologies. That makes scrap recycling a critical – and accessible – alternative. The US Environmental Protection Agency estimates that recycling steel and tin cans saves 60 percent to 74 percent of the energy required to produce them from raw materials.
Although there are no official statistics on the number of scrap metal collectors in Zimbabwe due to the informal nature of their work, they are unmistakable. In Hopley, a poor township in Harare, they streamed into a dusty open lot where they sell their scrap. Some pushed carts. Others carried sacks on their heads. One woman brought a small plastic bag with just enough metal to earn a few cents to buy vegetables for dinner.
Inside the yard, heaps of junk – like old fridges, microwaves, cups, water heater tanks, generators, and car engines – were weighed on a giant old scale. Workers handed out cash and loaded the metal onto a 30-ton truck destined for a steelmaker that will buy it for between $220 and $260 a ton. Factories in the southern African country of 16 million people consume about 600,000 tons of scrap metal annually, all locally collected, said Dosman Mangisi, chief operations officer of the Zimbabwe Institute of Foundries, an association of metal casting businesses.
The job of hunting scrap metal is grueling and hazardous. Hunters rise before dawn, walking kilometers to scavenge from landfills, industrial zones, homes, and roadside dumps. Some sleep near illegal dumpsites, waiting for trucks that unload waste overnight to avoid arrest. 'I have been lucky not to fall sick,' said Lovemore Sibanda, a security guard who collects scrap on his days off. 'But I am always worried. I hope I can afford gloves one day.'
Metal hunters such as Mabhiza and Sibanda have seen it all, from medical waste such as syringes and expired medicines to rotting carcasses of pets such as dogs and cats thrown away by their owners. 'At first I would lose my appetite for days after seeing things like that,' said Sibanda. 'Now I am used to it. This is my office. This is where the money is.'