Garbage

It is a relief that Indo-Pak tempers have cooled and we can once again get back to our lives. As we do, let us ponder over Isaiah Berlin's words, “Men do not live by fighting evils. They live by positive goals.” Berlin was a great intellectual presence in the mid-20th century, and one of his positive goals that many Indians seem to be seeking today is a clean city. I realised this after reading the unusually large mail that my column on civic pride generated last month from communities across the country.  Residents of Aashiana, a colony in Lucknow, proudly report that they are managing their own garbage collection, although it costs each family Rs 30 per month; they have also persuaded the Lucknow Development Authority to let them build a vermi-composting pit in the green belt. Govindpuri, a resettlement colony in Delhi, is well ahead of the posh colonies of south Delhi in its solid waste management program. Residents there now segregate garbage, and green rickshaws collect organic waste while red rickshaws the inorganic; their yuva manch performs street plays to educate the people about the new system. Even Patna, famous for its cowsheds and garbage mountains, has begun to change. Tired of waiting for the municipality, some middle class mohallas, with the support of voluntary organisations, have privatised street cleaning and garbage collection. The most impressive story of collective action is that of Civic Exnora in Tamilnadu. A resident of Vadapalani Road in Chennai tells this story: “Our street used to be one big garbage dump; the bin outside our home was always overflowing because the corporation van did not often show up. My neighbour in frustration would set the garbage on fire, but the smoke irritated my asthma and I would douse it with water. So, we fought all the time. “One morning the dustbin disappeared and a brightly painted cart stood at my door with a boy in uniform and gloves. Called the 'street beautifier', he taught us to separate our garbage at home. Each morning he empties the organic waste into the green section of his cart and the recyclable waste into the red section. When he has covered the street, he takes the cart to our Zero Waste Centre, where he empties the organic waste into a storage tank that has holes at the bottom and where it is converted to compost. He sells the recyclables and the compost to augment his income. I pay Rs 20 a month and our street is now spotlessly clean. Where there was garbage outside each home, we have now planted trees.” All this happened because residents of Vadlapani Road decided to form an Exnora Club. Started by M.B. Nirmal, a bank manager, this civic movement is so successful that it is rapidly spreading across the South. It now covers 40 per cent of Madras city, 75 per cent of its suburbs and has clubs across Tamilnadu and the three southern states. Its 17,000 street chapters provide clean, scientific garbage collection to approximately 17 lakh homes. Having realised their collective negotiating power, many clubs are solving other civic problems (sewage, street lighting, water supply) through their municipality. Exnora was recognised by the United Nations Conference on Human Settlements in 1996 among the 100 Best Urban Practices. If you too want to transform your community, write to: Exnora, 20 Giriappa Road, Chennai-17, (exnora@vsnl.com) or call 044-8153377. There are two ways to look at these examples of civic virtue. One is to deplore the failure of the state, which has forced citizens to act. The other is to applaud this collective action for it is not easily achieved anywhere. Game theorists say that dumping garbage on the street is rational behaviour for individuals because it is cheaper (even though it is socially undesirable). The benefits of a clean street are public whereas the costs are private. Cooperation, in examples such as Exnora, demonstrates that commitment of individuals can overcome this negative rationality. Here is to that commitment!