In Kaggo zone, scrap and garbage ooze money

Until October 31, New Vision will devote space to highlighting the plight of slum dwellers as well as profiling those offering selfless service to improve conditions in these areas.

Today, Doreen Murungi, Rebecca Nalunga, Andrew Masinde and Stella Nassuna bring you an exciting story of how Stephen Awori has made a living for himself and the community in Kaggo zone, Mbuya in Nakawa division from scrap

From the sound of a horn, to the roar of the diesel engine to the click-coo-clack of the wheels of the old train driving past, the sounds for the ear to survey are so diverse they evoke images of a town bustling with life.

Suddenly the air is assaulted by a choking, pungent odour from a mud– and–wattle bathroom close by. There is no image of a town anymore, there are no clean compounds or floral scents, it is the congested, filthy Kaggo Zone 1 Mbuya 1, Nakawa Division. 

Like other slums in Kampala, Kaggo is characterised by crowded shanty structures. Its population of about 2,000 is part of the over 2.6 million urban dwellers estimated to be living in squalid conditions in slums across the country’s major towns. 

At Kaggo, piles of garbage, evidence of which we can see along the railway line at a distance, welcomes you. The smell of burning rubbish permeates the air. Empty water and whisky bottles, broken umbrellas, scrambled cassette tape, torn plastic casings, name it, it is all there.

On a closer look, one cannot help but notice vast sacks piled, some with plastic bottles waist-deep, while others are full to the brim. And it is there in the heaps of garbage that we find one of the most inspiring money– making slum models –Stephen Awori.

“Many people would find collecting dirty things from dirty places shameful, but I have made money from it,” Awori says. 

He has lifted his family above the poverty line but he had his fair share of lack. “I had two children and a wife and I used to sell three teaspoons of groundnuts at sh300 in a kibanda. At the end of the day I had about sh4,500 but that was not enough to provide for the family,” he explains.

His breakthrough came when his wife started vending food at Uganda Revenue Authority offices in Nakawa and heard people talking about how Rwenzori bottling company would buy used plastic bottles.

“When she sold me the idea, I did not wait. I looked for space that had so much garbage and cleared it,” recalls Awori.

When the railway people saw a job well–done they let him use the space and there his treasure-hunt begun.

“I collected bottles and took them to Rwenzori and when they bought them, I was overjoyed. I started collecting more and more bottles, when they noticed I was collecting many bottles, they gave me a bicycle,” Awori recalls.

When he could not meet the demand, Awori mobilised other people in the slum to collect used bottles and supply to him. Today, every morning, numerous scrap collectors circulate across the city in search of leftovers to bring them to what is now “The Scrap Dealer”.

One of the collectors returns from the hunt with sacks of garbage on his back. We wonder how his back manages to accommodate what appeared to be over 30kgs of scrap, which Awori says could be bundles of plastic bags, cardboard boxes, glass, computer parts, ballpoint pens, paper, wire hangers and so on. There is almost everything it becomes difficult to picture anything that is not collected to be recycled.

The complexity of the odour released from the activity around is only comparable to burning wood, ash, rubber, dirt and chemicals. It was everywhere, it is hard to imagine how they go about their business around such an intoxicating smell. 

“It is the smell of money, we are used to it, when we burn wires, we begin to smell money,” one of the collectors Christopher Tusingwire jokes.

Exemplifying the slum’s commercial spirit, Awori proudly shows us a scrap hand-built wood shack, the lopsided shed with three sewing machines sitting on hard red soil with about two metres of polythene serving as a carpet where he started a small vocational centre to equip women and girls with skills in tailoring, hair dressing and business management.

“We are learning skills in hairdressing, tailoring, candle and soap making as well as business management. When I am through, I hope to use these skills to generate income,” a hopeful Aisha Nanyazi one of the students says.

When Awori’s day ends, he goes home to the cramped, concrete room not far from his duty station where he, his wife and four children live. 

At first glance Awori might seem just another one of slum dwellers grinding out his days in search of survival, but he owns rentals in Kireka, rears goats and pigs and on a good day he retires with about sh450,000!

People see the slum as the dirty, smelly place with poor people, yes those challenges we have but we are managing well.

It is no wonder then that Awori is financially–stable and impacting other people.