Dignity and Identity: Waste Pickers of Phnom Penh
In Phnom Penh, the vibrant capital of Cambodia, another reality exists in the shadow of economic growth. In the Dangkor district, a landfill stretches across 31 hectares where hundreds of people search every day for recyclable materials. With bare hands and simple tools, they sift through the city’s waste looking for plastic, metal, and glass that they can sell for a few Cambodian riel.
Around 80 percent of the more than 3,000 tons of waste produced daily in Phnom Penh ends up at the Dangkor landfill. Garbage trucks deliver the waste, and bulldozers spread it across the growing hills. The so-called “pickers” usually sort recyclable materials directly on site. Their tools—sharp metal hooks—are made in the village at the edge of the landfill. In the evening, the collected materials are brought in large sacks, sewn from old fertilizer bags, to female traders who weigh them and pay cash.
Experienced pickers earn between 8 and 10 US dollars per day—often not enough to support a family. Most of them belong to the poorest segments of the population. Many are migrants from rural regions, with little education and no social security. Children also work on the landfill, often instead of going to school or in addition to attending classes.
At the edge of the landfill, a community of around 400 people lives in simple huts without access to water, electricity, or sanitation. Working under the blazing sun is extremely dangerous: toxic fumes, chemicals, and sharp objects frequently cause injuries as well as respiratory and skin diseases.
Despite these conditions, the pickers are proud people. They value their work because it allows them a minimum level of independence. In society, however, they remain stigmatized and largely unrecognized.
Personal Note
In February 2025, my team and I spent one month at the Dangkor landfill. With temperatures above 30°C, accompanied by unbearable stench and toxic fumes, we worked day after day amid these extreme conditions.
What weighed on us the most, however, was the feeling that we could not truly help—whether in the case of accidents, financial worries, heartbreak, or the constant lack of almost everything one could imagine.
Despite the living conditions in the settlement next to the landfill site, which were almost unimaginable for us, we and our work were received with respect and support. I would therefore like to express my deepest gratitude to these extraordinary people, whose dignity and strength left a lasting impression on me.
Further reading:
A Valuable Life. Seeing transformative practice among Phnom Penh’s waste pickers
by Cindy Marie Dupouy Bryson
PDF Vol. 1
PDF Vol. 2
