Black Dust

Labourers in Iraq’s Dickensian brick factories endure searing heat, poisonous soot and roof cave-ins, working alongside their children, with few prospects besides an early death.
September 2010, by Phil Sands

When the wind blows from the north, the black greasy dust pouring from the factory chimneys coats the nearby homes of workers. It gets in through the cracks in windows and doors, it settles on the bedding, on clothes and inside lungs.

Poverty and this oily filth are the constant companions of the 500 labouring families in the factory complex, on the outskirts of Kut, in southern Iraq. The pollution is something they live with and die from.

With faltering reconstruction underway after the American invasion, the demand for bricks has quickly risen and so has brick production. But while the oil-fired kilns are being resurrected and jobs created, working conditions remain appalling. Child labour is the rule not the exception, industrial accidents are common and protective clothing unheard of.

Children as young as seven years old work alongside the adults, rather than make the long trip to the nearest school, which costs money their families can ill afford. Even heavily pregnant women work in the violent heat of the ovens, with only scarves over their mouths to stop them choking on the dust.

The central government and local authorities, headquartered in Kut - a short drive away - have long threatened to close factories that do not improve working conditions and reduce pollution. Council officials say they have closed three factories in the last year.

In practice, however, wealthy factory owners easily circumvent controls, aided by political instability and rampant corruption. And so the factories stay open.

Such complexes, some with dozens of kilns and chimneys, are a common sight in Iraq and employ tens of thousands of people nationwide. US military commanders overseeing reconstruction projects helped to get some of them, including the huge Narhwan complex east of Baghdad, restarted after years of sanctions and violent insurgency had forced their closure.

The theory behind the projects was that employment opportunities would help prevent angry young men from becoming militants.

In Kut’s brick factories that has not happened. Locals said the grim living conditions had left residents disillusioned with democracy and were turning the ovens into an incubator of despair and radicalism.

Pictures by Phil Sands, all photos copyright Makoto Photographic Agency and the photographer. Reproduction in any form without permission prohibited.

The furnace burns fuel oil, thick black fumes curling from the chimney. It was built in 1977 alongside a previous factory that had collapsed. Workers’ houses are 100 metres away from the kilns. Pools of filthy water line the dirt road leading from the main highway; the land is barren.

A typical day begins at 1am, the labourers preferring the relative cool of night to the blistering temperatures of the days. They stack bricks in huge, roughly built ovens, dressed only in shabby tracksuits with scarves to protect their faces from the heat, smoke and dust.

“The temperatures are close to unbearable and the children are in there with us”, said Abbas Rahim. “There is always black dust in the air. It’s in your lungs, in the water, in the food. Everyone is sick.”

Shifts last between 8 and 10 hours, with monthly pay of up to US$400, just enough to keep an extended family alive. Fresh fruit and vegetables, increasingly expensive in Iraq, are a rarity for the families living and working here.

Children are born into factory work, and stay at it their whole lives. Ahmed Khadhim, now in his late 20s, started labouring in the kilns as a young teenager, and sadly expects his baby son to follow in his footsteps.

“I started when I was young and there was never any alternative”, he said. “We needed the money to survive. Now I’m trying to help support 11 people and that means I have to work as much as I can. It’s a trap that no one can get out of.”

“People die young here. You are old by the time you’re 40 and you’re probably not going to live much longer than that”, Mr Khadhim said. “Usually it’s the lungs that go first, but kidneys also fail because there is no clean drinking water and no one can afford to buy bottled water.”

Khteer Jathera has fathered 12 children. Five of them died before the age of ten. “They were sick but we had no money for medicine or doctors so we just had to watch them die”, he said. “No one helped, no one was interested in helping. We were told their lungs had been burned, and some had cancer.”

“It’s difficult because we don’t have many choices”, Mr Jathera said. “If I leave here, I’ll have no work and will starve to death. If I stay here, I’ll die from the work and diseases, and so will my children. There are no options.”

“Promises have been made to do something about these places but in reality nothing is done”, said Moaid Gharnim, an independent economic analyst who has consulted on studies into Iraq’s brick factories.

“There should be safeguards for workers, and politicians talk about that but the reality is that Iraq needs bricks and no one wants to go in and deal with this issue. Cleaning this up will be expensive. It’s cheaper to just keep on poisoning everything.”

In the run-up to Iraq’s March 7 elections, candidates visited the factories as part of their campaign to win highly salaried places in parliament. It is something the factory workers remember with deep bitterness. “They come, hand us a blanket and a promise and then we never see or hear from them again. It was the same in all the other elections,” said Mr Khadhim. “We demand action. This suffering must end.”


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