洋人丢的电子垃圾，都去哪了？

Our upgrades with electronic devices is getting faster and faster.

Every year, a flood of new gadgets hits the market.

And we can't help but buy some of them.

While we enjoy that rush of something new,

we rarely stop to think about one question:

"what happens to the old devices we throw away?"

"what happens to the old devices we throw away?"

In Western countries, to reduce e-waste impact on the environment,

they've built sophisticated recycling systems

and enforced strict environmental laws

to make sure discarded electronics are properly handled.

It seems like the rest of the world should follow their lead.

But is that really the case?

Thousands of kilometers away, in Africa,

we visited a place,

and uncovered what really happens

when e-waste disappears.

Awal told us

most of these dismantled parts

are sold to local recyclers.

But here, there's a unique pricing system.

For circuit boards and other components,

there's no fixed price at all,

it depends on how well you bargain.

Only pure metals

have relatively transparent market prices.

A kilo of iron sells for just 3 cedis (about 2 RMB).

Aluminum goes for around 30 cedis, (about 20 RMB).

And copper wire fetches the most,

about 110 cedis per kilo,

roughly 74 RMB for a single kilogram.

The metals recovered from e-waste

go through several layers of recycling

eventually becoming new products again.

But some of the salvaged components

end up in a different supply chain:

the secondhand repair market.

Repair traders buy these parts from dismantlers

to use as replacements in refurbished devices.

But it's like opening a blind box

if you get a faulty part,

you're just out of luck.

You sell it off cheap as scrap.

But if you strike gold with a good one,

it's a whole different story.

A refurbished computer, for example,

can sell for up to 1,000 cedis (about 670 yuan).

Brands like Dell and HP

are especially popular here.

And secondhand iPhones

those are rare,

and considered premium goods.

After learning how dismantling works,

and seeing how the "Blind Box" trade operates,

we followed Awal to

the final stop of the e-waste process:

the open-air burning ground.

Here,

the wires stripped from electronics

are burned to ashes.

Once the metal is exposed,

their final mission is complete.

their final mission is complete.

Wow, that fire is huge.

The heat on my face,

it's scorching.

I'm standing about a meter away,

and my face already feels like it's burning.

So this is what a burner boy's job looks like?

So this is what a burner boy's job looks like?

I just picked up one of their metal rods,

which is actually pretty heavy.

And the whole area here

is filled with the stench of trash,

mixed with the smell of burning rubber.

mixed with the smell of burning rubber.

Behind me, thick black smoke keeps rolling in.

This,

this is the smoke

from cable burning here in Ghana.

Let's move.

Over here,

it's just too choking.

And you'll notice

none of the burner boys here

none of the burner boys here

are wearing masks.

I stood in that smoke for just a bit,

and started coughing nonstop.

On site,

we also measured the air quality here.

The results showed

PM2.5 levels at the burn site

reached 600 micrograms per cubic meter,

classified as severe pollution.

But for the burner boys,

it's not just the toxic air

they have to live with every day.

Guys,

look behind me, in this river.

You can see piles of garbage rushing downstream.

This river runs right through Agbogbloshie,

it's called the Korle Lagoon.

And it's completely filled with waste.

Across the river, that's where they live.

Oh my god.

The path here is unbelievably hard to walk.

Every step I take, I sink right in.

From afar, it looks fine,

but once you get in, you realize:

it's crawling with bugs.

Whoa look

that cow's eating a plastic bag.

Ugh, a bug just flew into my mouth.

So right now, we're standing at

the very top of Agbogbloshie.

the very top of Agbogbloshie.

Holy cow,

literally cows here.

And they're kinda holy too.

Let me show you

a shot of these cows grazing on colorful piles of trash.

a shot of these cows grazing on colorful piles of trash.

It's mind-blowing.

People living far away

might never know

that under their orderly lives,

the electronics they once loved and threw away

have traveled across the sea,

ending up here.

They can't imagine

that on top of this waste,

real people

are living their daily lives.

Just now, one burner boy told me

the poorest ones among them,

those burner boys with absolutely no money,

don't even have a place to sleep.

At night, they sleep in shacks beside the burn site.

Let me show you one.

It's a space so cramped

I can't even stand up straight inside.

I can't even stand up straight inside.

About eleven or twelve people sleep here at night.

They say when it's dry, they sleep directly on the ground.

They say when it's dry, they sleep directly on the ground.

And when it rains,

they lie on old foam mats.

The place is completely open,

wind blows through from every side.

Mosquitoes, garbage, they're everywhere.

I honestly can't imagine what it's like

to spend a night here.

Maybe I could survive 100 hours on a deserted island,

but here?

No way I'd last that long.

Aside from these open shelters

most workers rent cheap rooms nearby instead.

Awal's family

live right across from the burn site

in the residential area.

Because the room is tiny,

the Awals' washing and daily routines

all happen in shared spaces.

But convenience has a price tag.

Each toilet visit costs 3 cedis (about 2 RMB).

A shower is 3–5 cedis (about 2–3.4 RMB).

Awal says that's just a small slice of expenses,

feeding the family is the real cost.

To help us blend into local life,

Awal suggested

taking Max to get

the most authentic local haircut.

We did a rough calculation:

to cover one person's daily needs here,

you need about 100 cedis a day (around 67 RMB).

If, like Awal, you're supporting a family,

you have to pinch every penny.

And even when everything costs money,

there are still moments

with joy that cost nothing.

After following Awal through his day,

it's hard to put the feeling into words.

No one chooses to make a living at a dump,

they're pushed there by survival.

But what choices do they have?

What keeps them going

is, deep down, that small flame of hope.

is, deep down, that small flame of hope.

In Ghana,

education from kindergarten to high school

is officially free,

but extra fees still weigh heavily

on many families.

Some kids are kept outside the school gates,

and others

pick through dusty scrap heaps,

searching for any chance

to change their future.

First, population growth

has outpaced the country's job creation.

So inevitably, many can't find work.

So inevitably, many can't find work.

Many Ghanaians dream of civil service jobs

but there aren't that many openings.

but there aren't that many openings.

If you don't get in,

as a university graduate in Ghana,

you might make around

2,000 cedis a month (about 1,340 RMB),

which can be less than what the dump pays,

so people come back here.

We often say "education changes destiny,"

but in Agbogbloshie,

lives repeat across generations,

over and over.

Most can't break the cycle.

This isn't one person's choice,

nor one family's fate

it's the weight of history, buried long ago.

it's the weight of history, buried long ago.

Centuries ago, colonizers' ships

sailed away, packed with enslaved people.

And today,

along this very same coastline,

electronic waste that doesn't belong to Ghana

keeps pouring into its ports.

Different times,

but the same story repeats itself

leaving new marks

on the same old land.

When it comes to Ghana,

I think there's a gray area here.

Whether it's electronics,

used cars, or secondhand clothes,

these used goods are labeled as donations.

So technically, what they receive isn't "waste",

it's actually

"aid".

You may have heard of the Basel Convention,

it's meant to regulate the flow of e-waste.

So why, despite this existence of this agreement,

does so much e-waste still end up here?

The Basel Convention is not like other international treaties

say, the Law of the Sea Convention,

which has its own arbitration tribunal.

If two countries have a dispute,

there's a neutral body to intervene.

For the Basel Convention

implementation is left to each country,

so there's no UN-led

or third-party institution

or third-party institution

ensuring fair enforcement.

So even though, on paper,

many international laws forbid this kind of trade,

we still haven't found effective ways

to deal with the waste problem.

From government waste facilities and technology

to how much investment goes into recycling

to consumers like us

many people still think,

"If I can afford it, I'll buy it."

But the old one has to go somewhere.

Someone has to deal with it.

If not in Ghana,

then maybe in India, or Pakistan.

So in the end,

every one of us shares part of the responsibility.

In China, we often say we live in a "thriving age".

That same longing for a better life

exists here in Ghana too.

But looking at all this before us

can we really still say

those words?