Near Bhalswa landfill in Delhi, Seema grips a large white sack on her shoulder, scanning the shrinking edges of the dump where she once gathered plastic and metal to sustain her family. "They chase us away as if we are the ones polluting, not picking up waste," said the 52-year-old.
For decades, Ms. Seema collected over 50 kg of recyclables daily; today, she barely gathers 20 kg. As Delhi struggles to cope with rising waste, its 1.5 lakh waste pickers recycle an estimated 2,000 tonnes of paper, plastic, metals, and glass every day, diverting nearly a third of the city's waste from three overfilled landfills.
According to the Municipal Corporation of Delhi (MCD), of the 11,300 tonnes of unsorted waste generated daily, 7,000 are sent to four waste-to-energy plants. The rest is salvaged mostly by informal workers like Ms. Seema.
Yet, despite their contribution, waste pickers remain excluded from the formal recycling economy.
A new report by Chintan Environmental Research and Action Group titled 'Including the Informal Recycling Sector in Extended Producer Responsibility for Plastics' calls for their urgent integration. "Start-ups and enterprises in the plastic waste sector still rely on waste pickers' networks and skills, but they remain invisible as stakeholders. The machines cannot efficiently do the segregation work," said Abhishek Singh, Chintan's research lead.
'Treated like thieves'
For generations, waste pickers have collected recyclables from households, streets, dhalaos (garbage points) and landfills, selling them to small aggregators. However, access has sharply declined over the last two decades. "We are not allowed inside anymore and are treated like thieves. The contractor brings people from another State but won't hire us, especially women," said Ms. Seema.
As private concessionaires have taken over waste handling, many workers have been forced to return to the low-paying factory jobs they once left. "Domestic and factory workers turned to waste picking because it gave them flexibility," said Mou Sengupta of the Centre for Science and Environment.
Women, who form the backbone of the sector, have been hit the hardest. "They are considered less productive and lose jobs first. Elderly workers, too, are sidelined," Ms. Sengupta noted.
Waste pickers often work without protective gear or social security. Chintan's report estimates their life expectancy in India at just 39 years, far below the national average.
Akbar, 37, a waste picker from Seemapuri, said he sometimes pays the police to allow him to continue using his rickshaw. "I segregate waste in my one-room home where my children also sleep. If we had a centre, our problems would ease," he said.
Both Ms. Seema and Mr. Akbar are unaware of the Centre's National Action for Mechanised Sanitation Ecosystem (NAMASTE) scheme, meant to integrate waste pickers into the formal solid waste management system by providing material sorting facilities. As of September 20, only 42,127 workers had been validated through e-KYC. The scheme promises ID cards, Ayushman Bharat coverage, PPE kits, skill training, and support for dry waste collection centres.
Fighting for space
For some, collective action has brought stability. Jharna Khatun, 33, vice president of Safai Sena, began collecting waste at 15. "We lived at the mercy of dealers who decided what to pay us. We could never bypass them," she recalled.
Today, at the NDMC-Chintan Micro Material Recovery Facility, where Ms. Khatun works, she sells directly at market price, earning ₹15,000 a month. "This is what all of us deserve," she said, adding that she also runs camps to register waste pickers under NAMASTE.
Currently, Chintan runs nine such facilities in Delhi, with women comprising about 80% of the workforce. "We are looked down upon as poor and dirty. I want to give my children a better life and break this cycle. I don't want to work under any authority that decides for us. What we need is space and recognition, not neglect," she asserts.