Beneath the 65-Metre Waste Mountain of Ghazipur: The Realities of India's Waste Pickers

Nicolas Auger-Chrétien — 2026-08-25T01:35:02Z

Every day, around 11,000 tonnes of waste ends up in Ghazipur, brought in by the constant flow of roughly 500 trucks. Over the years, this has created a massive garbage mountain the area is known for. Yet Ghazipur isn't only a landfill, dairy farms still exist right beside it. On the site, they use biomining and large excavators to break down old waste and separate it into materials like plastic, sand, and concrete. Nothing is wasted if it can be reused: plastic is sent to cement factories, and sand and debris are used for new roads and construction. But the work is far from easy. The incinerators haven't been running for about three months, and wet waste can't be sorted right away, so more trash is still being piled on top, left to dry for years before anyone can process it. Hidden underneath are machines and teams working from the bottom up, trying to slowly reduce the mountain. Along the seven-level route to the top, initiatives like the Namaste Program show that efforts are being made, but the scale of the problem is still huge.

In the communities surrounding the Ghazipur landfill, the limitations of institutional recognition are felt in very concrete ways. Despite the existence of national schemes such as the Namaste Scheme, which aim to register informal waste workers and extend basic social protections, access to support remains extremely limited on the ground. Many waste pickers living and working around Ghazipur are neither registered nor informed about available schemes, effectively excluding them from social protection mechanisms. In practice, this leaves them dependent on informal and precarious waste work for survival, with little or no interaction with public institutions. Their labour keeps the city functioning, yet they remain absent from official records, excluded from protections, and rarely consulted on decisions that directly affect their lives.

In recent years, the Government of India has taken steps toward formally recognising informal waste workers through the Namaste Scheme, which now explicitly includes waste pickers within the national sanitation and waste management framework [1]. From the 2024-2025 financial year, the scheme has aimed to integrate waste pickers into formal systems through digital registration, occupation-based identification, and linkages to social security programmes. While this represents a significant policy shift on paper, its reach and effectiveness remain uneven, particularly for workers operating in highly marginalised contexts such as those surrounding the Ghazipur landfill.

The Namaste scheme represents one of the most recent national efforts to formally recognise waste pickers as part of India's sanitation workforce. It aims to provide occupational identification, health insurance, protective equipment, and livelihood support, while also promoting the formation of waste picker collectives and digital profiling systems. The initiative targets approximately 2.5 lakh workers across India, signalling a large-scale attempt at formal integration into waste governance systems. However, implementation remains uneven, with only a limited number of workers currently profiled under the scheme, highlighting a gap between policy ambition and on-the-ground reality [2].

Recent announcements offering one-time financial incentives to landfill workers in Delhi, such as the Rs 5,000 Diwali payment, reflect a broader pattern of short-term welfare gestures rather than sustained institutional integration, highlighting the gap between political recognition and structural inclusion of informal waste workers [3]. At the same time, restricted access to waste has led many waste pickers to report declining incomes and increased dependence on hazardous sites such as landfills, where competition, health risks, and environmental exposure are significantly higher.

The growing dependence on sites such as the Ghazipur landfill is not accidental, but the result of policy choices that have progressively excluded informal waste pickers from neighbourhood-level waste collection. Urban cleanliness is not determined by rankings or infrastructure alone, but by the effectiveness of governance systems, civic participation, and the inclusion of sanitation workers within urban decision-making processes. This perspective shifts attention away from surface-level performance indicators toward the deeper structural conditions that shape how waste is managed in cities [4].

The Ghazipur landfill has long exceeded both its intended capacity and its original lifespan, yet it continues to receive vast quantities of waste decades after its planned closure. Initially designed to operate for approximately 25 years, the site now functions less as an engineered landfill than as an open dump, lacking many of the environmental and safety safeguards required under waste management regulations [5]. The accumulation and decomposition of waste have led to the continuous release of toxic gases, including methane and carbon dioxide, contributing significantly to air pollution in surrounding areas. At the same time, the site poses serious risks to water systems: leachate from the landfill has been reported to flow into nearby drains and canals, raising concerns about groundwater and surface water contamination [6]. Structural instability further compounds these hazards, as cracks and slope stress within the waste mound have increased fears of collapse among workers and nearby communities.

Frequent fires, often linked to methane buildup, have become a recurring feature of the site, releasing dense toxic smoke and causing sharp spikes in air pollution that affect both waste workers and nearby communities [7]. With these conditions, Ghazipur has evolved into a chronic environmental hazard, where climate risks, pollution, and informal labour are concentrated in the same urban space.

In response to sustained environmental pressure, the Municipal Corporation of Delhi has announced plans to fully clear the Ghazipur landfill by 2027-2028, alongside the establishment of additional waste processing facilities [8]. Authorities have pointed to bio-mining as a central strategy for reducing legacy waste, combined with limited diversion of ongoing waste streams to processing and waste-to-energy facilities. Despite these commitments, progress on the ground remains slow. Large volumes of accumulated waste continue to dominate the site, and only a fraction of the total legacy waste has been processed so far. The clean-up has moved far more slowly than announced.

Communities living around the Ghazipur landfill, including densely populated neighbourhoods and nearby wholesale markets are exposed to multiple environmental risks. Poor air quality, respiratory illnesses, and water contamination are persistent concerns, while contaminated runoff threatens surrounding soil, groundwater, and surface water systems. Beyond these local impacts, the landfill also represents a broader climate challenge, as uncontrolled methane emissions from decomposing waste contribute to greenhouse-gas emissions. Taken together, these conditions reflect deeper failures in urban waste governance in megacities like Delhi, where rapid urbanisation, inadequate planning, and slow remediation have concentrated environmental harm in already marginalised spaces.

Gender, informal labour and climate justice

At sites such as the Ghazipur landfill, environmental degradation and social inequality intersect in deeply gendered ways. Women waste pickers working around the landfill are exposed daily to toxic air, contaminated water, and hazardous materials, while simultaneously facing heightened risks of harassment, theft, and physical violence. Unlike men, women often combine waste picking with unpaid care responsibilities, limiting their mobility and reducing their ability to seek safer or more profitable work opportunities [9]. As a result, their economic vulnerability is compounded by environmental exposure and social insecurity. These conditions are not incidental but reflect broader policy failures that concentrate environmental risk in informal labour spaces while excluding women workers from protection, recognition, and decision-making processes.

The Ghazipur landfill has reached an estimated height of around 65 metres, comparable to the towers of London's Tower Bridge or the height of a city block, and only a few metres shorter than Delhi's Qutub Minar - the world's tallest minaret made of bricks. This physical scale reflects the intensity of waste accumulation in one of the world's most rapidly growing urban regions. As Swati Singh Sambyal, a programme manager at the Center for Science and Environment in Delhi, notes, “Among the metropolitans, Delhi is probably the biggest waste generator. Ideally, only 10 to 15 percent of Delhi's waste should go to dumping sites, but around 70 to 80 percent is still being disposed of there because waste is not segregated at source. Our approach remains collection, dumping, or burning, which is not a sustainable or viable solution.” [10]. This persistent failure of waste segregation and reliance on dumping-based systems continues to shape the conditions in which informal waste pickers, particularly women operate, reinforcing both environmental exposure and economic precarity.

Voices from Ghazipur: Community perspectives

I also had the privilege of going into the slums of Ghazipur myself to conduct some interviews with my work partners. I interviewed Jatin Nasha Bibi, a waste picker living in the Ghazipur community, who has been residing in the area for approximately 25 years and is now 38 years old. She describes her daily routine around night work at the landfill, where she begins collecting waste around 6 p.m. and continues through the night, a pattern shared by many workers operating across the 24-hour cycle. She explains that her household includes three children, aged 20, 22, and 26, who have also participated in waste picking activities at times, reflecting the intergenerational nature of this labour. Despite the demanding conditions, she describes her work as something she has become accustomed to over time, emphasizing familiarity and endurance rather than hardship.

Many people work across 24-hour cycles, and she noted that her monthly income ranges between 10,000 and 12,000 rupees. She described the absence of basic facilities at the landfill, including toilets and shaded areas for rest, which forces workers to rely on conditions available in the surrounding community. There is no formal water supply or pipeline in the area. Water is accessed through tank deliveries and stored in containers for daily use. While electricity is available in the community, access to safe water remains highly constrained. She also described how leachate from the landfill flows into local drainage systems, affecting household water infrastructure. As a result, many homes either lack sinks entirely or avoid using them due to contamination concerns. In these conditions, water is often reused for multiple purposes, including washing, bathing, and drinking, due to limited alternatives.

She noted that people do experience illness frequently, although many have become accustomed to the conditions over time. She also described how women in the community manage both paid work and domestic responsibilities. In her case, she works in the evening at the landfill and spends the daytime caring for her children. Sleep remains limited, as work is continuous and survival needs take priority.

Many children also participate in the work and sometimes accompany their parents to the landfill. Workers are required to pay 20 rupees to guards to access the site, as entry is now controlled through a privatised system introduced by the city. What was previously an open informal space has increasingly become restricted and, in practice, semi-illegal for many waste pickers.

The work itself is highly hazardous. Landslides have occurred, and there are reported cases of fatal accidents involving heavy machinery such as excavators. Despite these risks, families continue to depend on the landfill as their primary source of income. Encounters with municipal authorities, including MCD workers, can sometimes further disrupt access, as workers are often instructed to stop collecting waste, though many return regardless due to economic necessity. Protective equipment is virtually absent. Most workers rely only on their hands and plastic bags, with no formal safety gear provided.

When I asked her what she thought about the fact that the government has been saying for years that they will remove the landfill, she said that people do not believe it will ever be removed. The harsh truth, as she put it, is that they do not want to see it gone. Their livelihoods depend on it, and it has become the way of life for so many people. The city is trying to clean it, but at the same time more waste continues to be added. You cannot clean it with more dumping. In her view, the city is also running out of space for another landfill, which makes the situation even more difficult to resolve. The landfill, as she describes it, is what people depend on to make money and survive. What will they do without having the mountain. That is why, they do not believe it will ever be removed, because there is simply too much waste being processed at the same time.

Available estimates suggest that the Ghazipur landfill sustains a significant number of informal waste workers from surrounding communities. While figures vary across reports, earlier studies indicate that approximately 600 waste pickers from the immediate area depend directly on the landfill for their livelihood, while more recent assessments estimate that up to 1,500 workers regularly collect waste at the site [11]. These variations reflect the informal and fluid nature of waste picking, but they nonetheless point to Ghazipur's central role as a survival space for hundreds of families who remain excluded from formal waste collection systems.

I also interviewed Sheikh Akbar Ali, a community leader and organiser with Basti Suraksha Manch in Ghazipur. He explains that he worked for approximately 25 years in the waste sector before transitioning into advocacy for waste pickers' rights. Originally from New Seemapuri, he now works as a community organiser supporting workers in the sector. He previously earned a living through waste selling and collection. He is now 42 years old and lives in Ghazipur with his family. “Waste is the most important aspect of human life because everyone is creating waste, no matter what. But no one is taking care of cleanliness apart from them. Most of these people are cleaning it, but they are not getting proper help from the government.”

According to his account, the introduction of the Namaste scheme, which is specifically designed for waste pickers, represents an important step toward recognising sanitation workers at the national level, as it aims to provide social security and formal acknowledgement of their role in urban cleanliness. “It's the first government scheme for that.” However, he stresses that the lived reality on the ground remains far more precarious, particularly for those working inside the Ghazipur landfill without formal registration, safety equipment, or consistent institutional protection. He describes a fragmented system in which waste pickers operate under different conditions, with some collecting waste from households and others working directly within the landfill environment, often under unsafe and informal arrangements. For him, the central issue remains the lack of effective rights-based implementation, despite the increasing visibility of waste management in policy discourse.

There is a difference in payments. Women are mostly working in segregation, while men are more often involved in loading activities. Women earn around 300 to 500 rupees per day, while men earn approximately 700 to 800 rupees per day. However, income also depends on the quantity of waste collected, as payments are linked to material value rather than fixed wages. As explained, it is ultimately a market-based system: for example, if iron is sold at 30 rupees per kilogram, the price remains the same regardless of gender. Both men and women go to the landfill, not only during the night but also during the day. Income can also be affected during heatwaves, when many workers choose not to go due to extreme conditions.

When asked what the government could do to improve the livelihoods of waste pickers in Ghazipur, particularly through schemes such as Namaste, he returns to a fundamental distinction between two groups of workers: those who collect waste from households and those who depend directly on the landfill itself. He explains that many of those working on the landfill operate during the day or night without protective equipment and often without formal permission, collecting and sorting waste before selling it through informal networks. In his words, in Ghazipur, it remains almost entirely an informal system, lacking help from the government. “This is the game here, and the reality,” he states.

Around 1,000 waste pickers reportedly access the Ghazipur landfill at night for waste picking, reflecting the scale of economic dependency on the site. This activity is closely linked to surrounding informal settlements, where residents continue to face severe infrastructural deprivation, including limited access to sanitation, drinking water, and sewage systems. In one such settlement, shared toilets serve approximately 3,000 people across 550 households, while water is delivered only intermittently through mobile supply vans.

The Ghazipur landfill exposes how urban waste systems rely on the largely invisible labour of informal workers who remain excluded from formal protection and recognition. Their testimonies show that waste picking is not temporary work, but a long-term survival system shaped by family dependence and economic necessity.

While initiatives aim to formally include waste pickers within India's sanitation framework, a significant gap remains between policy and lived reality. Many workers continue to operate without registration, safety equipment, or stable institutional support. Ghazipur also reflects broader patterns of urban inequality, where environmental risks and infrastructural deprivation are concentrated in already marginalised communities. In this sense, the landfill is not only a site of waste disposal, but also a space where labour, survival, and exclusion intersect.

References

1: Global Rights and Environmental Coalition. (2025). India launches NAMASTE scheme to recognize and support waste pickers. https://globalrec.org/2025/04/02/india-launches-namaste-scheme-to-recognize-and-support-waste-pickers/

2: Bandyopadhyay, O. (2025). India's waste pickers: indispensable but invisible. British Safety Council. https://www.britsafe.in/safety-management-news/2025/india-s-waste-pickers-indispensable-but-invisible

3: Times of India. (2025). All landfill workers to get Rs 5,000 each before Diwali: Khattar. https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/delhi/all-landfill-workers-to-get-rs-5000-each-before-diwali-khattar/articleshow/123953394.cms

4: Singh, S. (2025). Beyond rankings: What truly makes a city clean. Down To Earth. https://www.downtoearth.org.in/waste/beyond-rankings-what-truly-makes-a-city-clean

5: India Today. (2015). Ghazipur landfill site in Delhi is a ticking garbage bomb. https://www.indiatoday.in/mail-today/story/ghazipur-landfill-site-in-delhi-is-a-ticking-garbage-bomb-279145-2015-12-27

6: India Environment Portal. (2025, March 29). Report by Court Commissioner on Ghazipur landfill and waste-to-energy plant at the landfill. https://www.indiaenvironmentportal.org.in/in-court/report-by-court-commissioner-on-ghazipur-landfill-and-waste-to-energy-plant-at-the-landfill-29032025/

7: Indian Express. (2024, April 22). Delhi Environment Minister Gopal Rai seeks detailed report on Ghazipur landfill fire. https://indianexpress.com/article/cities/delhi/delhi-minister-gopal-rai-seeks-detailed-report-on-ghazipur-landfill-fire-9284431/

8: The New Indian Express. (2025, November 5). Ghazipur landfill site to be fully cleared by 2027, MCD to set up 4 processing facilities: Panel chief. https://www.newindianexpress.com/cities/delhi/2025/Nov/05/ghazipur-landfill-site-to-be-fully-cleared-by-2027-mcd-to-set-up-4-processing-facilities-panel-chief

9: The Indian Express. (2019). Ghazipur landfill: Delhi's mountain of waste continues to grow. https://indianexpress.com/article/cities/delhi/delhi-has-a-burning-problem-three-garbage-mountains-ghazipur-bhalswa-and-okhla-landfills-7900065/

10: Kuchay, B. (2018, September 10). Ghazipur landfill: Despair over Delhi's deadly rubbish dump. Al Jazeera. https://www.aljazeera.com/features/2018/9/10/ghazipur-landfill-despair-over-delhis-deadly-rubbish-dump

11: Thilak, N. (2012, May 13). Waste pickers of Ghazipur. The Indian Express. https://indianexpress.com/article/cities/delhi/waste-pickers-of-ghazipur/

Alternatives International Journal

Beneath the 65-Metre Waste Mountain of Ghazipur: The Realities of India's Waste Pickers

Gender, informal labour and climate justice

Voices from Ghazipur: Community perspectives