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Billions of litres of raw sewage in rivers and dams a national security issue

02 March 2022 | Story Prof Anthony Turton | Photo Supplied

Prof Turton — Prof Anthony Turton, Affiliated Professor in the Centre for Environmental Management at the University of the Free State (UFS), writes that in the face of the typhoid outbreak, we need to renew our trust in science, but also wake up and smell the coffee.

Opinion article by Prof Anthony Turton from the Centre for Environmental Management, University of the Free State .

The recent news has been dominated by so many things that an important signal has been drowned out by the noise. That small signal is the announcement by the NICD that typhoid has been identified in parts of the country, so the prudent approach is to boil the water coming from taps. While this is an important development, it needs to be placed into context. For starters, the NICD is a credible institution, so anything they say must be taken seriously. This issue brings three important factors into clear focus. Let us unpack each of these in order to gain greater perspective.

The issue of trust

The first is the issue of trust. This is a global phenomenon, most notably associated with social media that has enabled each person to theoretically have access to the entire quantum of our cumulative knowledge as an apex species on planet earth. In an instant, each person has the capacity to become an expert on a given topic. We have seen this playing out in the COVID-19 space, most notably as the efficacy of the vaccination programme has been questioned. While it is great that so much information is available to everyone instantly, it is also a problem, because unless the individual is trained to filter out the noise, they are rapidly overloaded with stuff that causes them to panic. In South Africa this has an added dimension, driven by the findings of the Zondo Commission, which in general indicate a severe trust deficit between government and the general population. Seen in this light, it is highly likely that the typhoid issue will fall directly into that chasm of trust and serve to widen it even further. This needs to be dealt with in our collective best interest, because panic serves nobody in a constructive way. Therefore, the first part of my core message is that we must avoid the urge to become instant experts by deferring the scientific facts to the scientific professionals. Sadly, science has been a victim of this trust deficit, so my voice might be lost in the howling gale of discontentment.

The problem of deteriorating water quality

The second is the problem of deteriorating water quality. In this regard, we are on absolutely solid ground, because we know – without fear of contradiction – that our water quality has been on a downward trajectory for some time. If we are looking for a pivotal moment, we might consider the acid mine drainage decant that first hit the public attention in 2002. Amid a flurry of activism and a media frenzy, we have the sad reality, two decades later, that absolutely nothing has been done about this matter. Highly acidic mine water, rich in a dissolved cocktail of metals that include uranium, arsenic, cadmium, and mercury, have continued to flow into our rivers and dams in mining areas of the country. But more importantly, we have also witnessed the systematic collapse of our wastewater infrastructure, which has accelerated over the past decade; this is best epitomised by the unsuccessful attempt of the SANDF to prevent the flow of raw sewage into the Vaal River at Emfuleni. Two billion rand later, we are no closer today to finding a solution than we were a decade ago. The numbers are staggering. As a nation, we produce over five billion litres of raw sewage every day. The latest credible calculation of that flow indicated that about 4,2 billion litres were being discharged daily into our rivers in an untreated format. That represents a tsunami of human waste inundating our rivers and dams, without respite, for more than a decade.

This is probably our biggest single challenge as a nation. In my professional opinion, this is a national security issue, because it impacts negatively on the lives of each citizen daily. It is destroying the economy from within by damaging the health of the individual, without them even knowing about it. You see, in sewage return flows, we find every substance that is ever dispensed in the retail sector. Think of the pharmaceutical industry. Imagine how much medication is sold each day by major pharmacies countrywide. Every item sold ends up in the sewage stream in a partially metabolised format. These include antibiotics, antiretrovirals, antidepressants, oestrogen used for contraception, and Viagra used to keep an aging population happy. So, we need to think of the sewage streams being discharged into our rivers and dams as thousands of tons of medication, still viable even in its partially metabolised form, to which we are exposing trillions of pathogenic microbes that are flourishing in the warm nutrient-rich waters. Think of this as a boot camp for microbes, because lazy and weak ones are destroyed by the low concentration of antibiotics, leaving only the stronger ones to flourish. In short, our boot camp for microbes is producing the next generation of multidrug-resistant pathogens. It is happening right before our eyes. Simply think about this logically and draw your own conclusion if you choose to mistrust science for reasons of your own. Does it make sense to allow the discharge of more than four billion litres of sewage daily into our rivers and dams, without anticipating some form of unintended consequence?

Our ability to cope as a nation

The third is the issue of our ability to cope as a nation. Here is where it gets really interesting, because at the very time when we are facing multiple risks to our economic well-being – COVID-19, unemployment, capital flight, energy crisis, corruption, to name but a few – we also need to be at our peak performance when it comes to finding solutions. We can say, with a high level of confidence, that our capacity to reach consensus on the way to solve the complex problems we are facing, is probably at an historic low (and deteriorating). In fact, we can say that there is an inverse relationship between our need to find consensus on a viable way ahead, and our capacity to generate the very consensus on which our survival as a species depends. This sounds a little dramatic, but I am using it to illustrate the point that globally, our capacity to unite in the face of a single common threat – climate change – is being eroded by many forces. These include the deficit of trust in government (point one noted above), the growing mistrust of science (exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic and the manifest as social pushback from the anti-vaxxers and the climate change denialists), and the increased sense of helplessness that each person is confronted with.

All of these are manifested in the typhoid issue. While typhoid is clearly a bad thing, we need to place it in context. Just as the COVID issue has shown us, the fatalities are relatively few, and while tragic to the individual families impacted, seen through the lens of logic and reason, this is not a show-stopper. What it does is highlight the issue of our failing sewage infrastructure. We can no longer simply accept that incompetent politicians can muddle their way through a growing crisis. We have to hold them accountable. We must convert the rising sense of rage into the high-octane rocket fuel of change. We need to say enough is enough. Now is the time that we demand technically competent people be appointed into specialist jobs, and then held fully accountable. We need to depoliticise the deployment of cadres, for that policy has brought us the failing infrastructure we see in Eskom, PRASA, municipal wastewater systems, and many other failed SOEs.

In the face of the typhoid outbreak, we need to renew our trust in science, but also wake up and smell the coffee by realising that we cannot simply discharge billions of litres of acidic mine water and raw sewage into our rivers and dams, without encountering unintended consequences. Those consequences might just be deadly.

News Archive

Media: Sunday Times

2006-05-20

Sunday Times, 4 June 2006

True leadership may mean admitting disunity

In this edited extract from the inaugural King Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture at the University of the Free State, Professor Njabulo S Ndebele explores the leadership challenges facing South Africa

RECENT events have created a sense that we are undergoing a serious crisis of leadership in our new democracy. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and committed South Africans, across class, racial and cultural spectrums, confess to feeling uncertain and vulnerable as never before since 1994.

When indomitable optimists confess to having a sense of things unhinging, the misery of anxiety spreads. We have the sense that events are spiralling out of control and that no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a definitive handle on things.

There can be nothing more debilitating than a generalised and undefined sense of anxiety in the body politic. It breeds conspiracies and fear.

There is an impression that a very complex society has developed, in the last few years, a rather simple, centralised governance mechanism in the hope that delivery can be better and more quickly driven. The complexity of governance then gets located within a single structure of authority rather than in the devolved structures envisaged in the Constitution, which should interact with one another continuously, and in response to their specific settings, to achieve defined goals. Collapse in a single structure of authority, because there is no robust backup, can be catastrophic.

The autonomy of devolved structures presents itself as an impediment only when visionary cohesion collapses. Where such cohesion is strong, the impediment is only illusory, particularly when it encourages healthy competition, for example, among the provinces, or where a province develops a character that is not necessarily autonomous politically but rather distinctive and a special source of regional pride. Such competition brings vibrancy to the country. It does not necessarily challenge the centre.

Devolved autonomy is vital in the interests of sustainable governance. The failure of various structures to actualise their constitutionally defined roles should not be attributed to the failure of the prescribed governance mechanism. It is too early to say that what we have has not worked. The only viable corrective will be in our ability to be robust in identifying the problems and dealing with them concertedly.

We have never had social cohesion in South Africa — certainly not since the Natives’ Land Act of 1913. What we definitely have had over the decades is a mobilising vision. Could it be that the mobilising vision, mistaken for social cohesion, is cracking under the weight of the reality and extent of social reconstruction, and that the legitimate framework for debating these problems is collapsing? If that is so, are we witnessing a cumulative failure of leadership?

I am making a descriptive rather than an evaluative inquiry. I do not believe that there is any single entity to be blamed. It is simply that we may be a country in search of another line of approach. What will it be?

I would like to suggest two avenues of approach — an inclusive model and a counter-intuitive model of leadership.

In an inclusive approach, leadership is exercised not only by those who have been put in some position of power to steer an organisation or institution. Leadership is what all of us do when we express, sincerely, our deepest feelings and thoughts; when we do our work, whatever it is, with passion and integrity.

Counter-intuitive leadership lies in the ability of leaders to read a problematic situation, assess probable outcomes and then recognise that those outcomes will only compound the problem. Genuine leadership, in this sense, requires going against probability in seeking unexpected outcomes. That’s what happened when we avoided a civil war and ended up with an “unexpected” democracy.

Right now, we may very well hear desperate calls for unity, when the counter-intuitive imperative would be to acknowledge disunity. A declaration of unity where it manifestly does not appear to exist will fail to reassure.

Many within the “broad alliance” might have the view that the mobilising vision of old may have transformed into a strategy of executive steering with a disposition towards an expectation of compliance. No matter how compelling the reasons for that tendency, it may be seen as part of a cumulative process in which popular notions of democratic governance are apparently undermined and devalued; and where public uncertainty in the midst of seeming crisis induces fear which could freeze public thinking at a time when more voices ought to be heard.

Could it be that part of the problem is that we are unable to deal with the notion of opposition? We are horrified that any of us could be seen to have become “the opposition”. The word has been demonised. In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there is no longer a single, overwhelmingly dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of history. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than seek to prevent it. We see here once more the essential creativity of the counter-intuitive imperative.

This is the formidable challenge of a popular post-apartheid political movement. Can it conceptually anticipate a future when it is no longer overwhelmingly in control, in the form in which it is currently, and resist, counter-intuitively, the temptation to prevent such an eventuality? Successfully resisting such an option would enable its current vision and its ultimate legacy to our country to manifest in different articulations, which then contend for social influence. In this way, the vision never really dies; it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. Consider the metaphor of flying ants replicating the ant community by establishing new ones.

We may certainly experience the meaning of comradeship differently, where we will now have “comrades on the other side”.

Any political movement that imagines itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few movements have survived those defining moments when they should have been more elastic, and that because they were not, did not live to see the next day.

I believe we may have reached a moment not fundamentally different from the sobering, yet uplifting and vision-making, nation-building realities that led to Kempton Park in the early ’90s. The difference between then and now is that the black majority is not facing white compatriots across the negotiating table. Rather, it is facing itself: perhaps really for the first time since 1994. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed leading up to the adoption or our Constitution?

This is not a time for repeating old platitudes. It is the time, once more, for vision.

In the total scheme of things, the outcome could be as disastrous as it could be formative and uplifting, setting in place the conditions for a true renaissance that could be sustained for generations to come.

Ndebele is Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cape Town and author of the novel The Cry of Winnie Mandela

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