Disaster in the Delta: Workers Accused of Profiting from Oil Spills in Nigeria

A new documentary reports that employees of Shell’s Nigerian subsidiary are encouraging attacks on pipelines to pocket funds intended for environmental cleanup.

A man walks alongside land tainted by an oil spill near Kegbara Dere, Nigeria. Friends of the Earth International. CC BY-SA 2.0

As the largest oil producer in Africa, Nigeria has long struggled to balance the demands of multinational corporations with the needs of its own people. The country provides a clear example of the resource curse, as the government turns a blind eye toward endemic corruption in the oil and gas industries. The Niger Delta, home of Nigeria’s oil reserves, has become a land of lawlessness and environmental catastrophe with no clear end in sight.

For decades, Royal Dutch Shell has been in the crosshairs of both environmental and human rights activists over its role in the Niger Delta. Now, the Anglo-Dutch oil company is facing claims that its employees deliberately sabotaged its own pipelines to profit from environmental cleanup funds.

In a documentary released on Dec. 10, Dutch television program Zembla and environmental group Milieudefensie teamed up to investigate claims of malpractice by the Shell Petroleum Development Company of Nigeria (SPDC). This group is a joint venture between the state-run Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation, France’s Total, Italy’s Eni and Shell, which runs all operations.

Research focused on the village of Ikarama, where there have been 30 reported oil spills in the last 13 years alone. The region surrounding the community has become so polluted that agriculture and fishing barely yield any income for locals. Frustration with oil companies has mounted, leading some residents to vandalize pipelines to channel their frustration.

Per the report, Royal Dutch Shell’s employees saw an opening. They began to encourage local youths to sabotage pipelines so they could receive funds necessary for environmental cleanup. Workers for the oil titan received vast sums of money for “eco-friendly” measures, and members of the Ikarama community were hired to restore the land.

The SPDC denies responsibility for the oil leaks, instead blaming local criminals and gangs. The group said in a statement that, “As of now, we are not aware of any staff or contractor having been involved in acts causing oil spills in the Niger Delta.” The SPDC further claimed that it investigates all credible reports of misconduct and addresses situations as needed.

A sign points out Shell’s Oloibiri well, the first drilled in West Africa. Rhys Thom. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

In the eyes of Cees van Dam, a professor of international business and human rights at the University of Rotterdam, the accusations are credible. “In the Netherlands,” he notes, “this would certainly be considered a criminal offense. Intentional destruction of property, intentional environmental pollution, these are serious issues that no single company would accept from its employees.”

Moreover, employees of the SPDC and residents of Ikarama attest to the claims addressed in the documentary. Saboteurs insist that they vandalize the pipelines “out of hunger” while a former Shell security guard said that supervisors and employees “split the money from the cleanup.”

Making matters worse, the former security guard said that “the recovery department from Shell sabotages the pipelines. If the cleanup will take seven months, they’ll stop after only three months.” In other words, the land remains in disarray even after remediation measures conclude.

In the documentary, Zembla claims that local employees and villagers were far from the only ones aware of the scheme. The SPDC, the Nigerian police and the Dutch embassy in Abuja also received word of the process from concerned locals. Then Dutch ambassador Robert Petri even visited Ikarama in 2018 and pledged to “take what is happening here … and we will share our experiences and information with both Shell and the government.” No further investigations have occurred.

As such, the process of intentional environmental degradation continues. As the alleged scheme moves into the spotlight, there is an opportunity for corruption in the Niger Delta to be extinguished. The region’s troubled past and present are intrinsically tied to the oil industry, but hope remains that a more transparent future may be just around the corner.



Stephen Kenney

Stephen is a Journalism and Political Science double major at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. He enjoys sharing his passion for geography with others by writing compelling stories from across the globe. In his free time, Stephen enjoys reading, long-distance running and rooting for the Tar Heels.

How the Dutch are Creating “Room for the River”

The 2.3 billion dollar project fighting rising sea levels in the Netherlands.

View of Rotterdam at sunset. Image credit: ZOOM.NL

One third of the Netherlands lies below sea level. Thus, the presence - and threat - of water has been a central part of Dutch culture since the first medieval farmers built dams and levees to control it. Now, a thousand years later, water technology in the Netherlands has evolved to pursue a goal that seems counterintuitive. To control water, and keep their citizens safe from it, the Dutch are in the midst of a 2.3 billion dollar project to let the water in.

The project is aptly called Room for the River—a national aim focussed on widening rivers, creating lakes, plazas, garages—all of which can function as public space but also provide somewhere for the water to go when lakes and rivers spill over. Part of the national shift in thought was due to massive amounts of flooding in the 1990s which forced many people to leave their homes. According to Harold van Waveren, a senior government advisor, the floods “were a wake-up call to give back to the rivers some of the room we had taken.”

In recent years, as cities such as New York and Miami struggle to find ways to protect their billion dollar real estate from rising sea levels, Dutch water engineering has become something of a national export —the Dutch equivalent of Swiss chocolate, or German cars.

“You can say we are marketing our expertise,” Dutch water expert Henk Ovink told the New York Times, “but thousands of people die every year because of rising water, and the world is failing collectively to deal with the crisis, losing money and lives.” He is happy to share his country’s pragmatic solution that views rising sea levels as an opportunity for environmental and social growth: a solution that features neither denial nor barrier building.

Dak Park, the largest rooftop garden in the Netherlands absorbs rain and CO2. Image Credit: dakparkrotterdam.nl

The Room for the River project is most visible in Rotterdam, the gritty city of the 70’s and 80’s that has reinvented itself as a hotbed of modern architecture, design, and business. Rotterdam is now home to innovative structures such as underground parking garages, plazas, and basketball courts that can double as retention ponds during a flood. A few miles outside the city in an area 20 feet below sea level, the project funded a new rowing course which can also hold water in emergencies. The course is part of the Eendragtspolder—an area of reclaimed rivers that doubles as a popular spot for biking, swimming, and community events. The area is also a river basin for the Rotte river and is expected to protect communities when the Rhine overflows—an anticipated 1 in 10 years event. The Eendragtspolder project represents the heart of the Room for the River project: pairing environmental reform with social reform. It’s what Mr. Molenaar, Rotterdam climate chief calls “investing in resilience.”

State of the art rowing course in the Eendragtspolder area doubles as water storage during extreme flooding. Image Credit: Willem Alexander Baan

It seems the United States, with its plans to build an colossal wall around lower Manhattan, has a lot to learn from the Dutch perspective. Unlike the Dutch water parks that serve as protection as well as social spaces, the fortress-like walls being erected along Florida’s coast and the plans for a wall around lower Manhattan will do little to protect from a storm and less for the quality of life of those surrounding it. Unlike water parks, walls separate rather than unite; in a storm they decide who is protected—who gets to live, and who doesn’t. In the best case, they only buy a city a couple of years before the sea rises higher and the barriers built become inconsequential.

“We can’t just keep building higher levees, because we will end up living behind 10-meter walls,” says Harold van Waveren, senior government advisor. “We need to give the rivers more places to flow. Protection against climate change is only as strong as the weakest link in the chain, and the chain in our case includes not just the big gates and dams at the sea but a whole philosophy of spatial planning, crisis management, children’s education, online apps and public spaces.”


 

 

EMMA BRUCE is an undergraduate student studying English and marketing at Emerson College in Boston. She has worked as a volunteer in Guatemala City and is passionate about travel and social justice. She plans to continue traveling wherever life may take her.

Unexpected Friends in Amsterdam

August 29, 2015: I was cruising on my bike on a rare sunny day in Amsterdam, weaving in and out of pockets of confused tourists, when I rode past an orange and white sign that read “A’DAM INT’L ART FAIR.” Just two weeks into my four-month long journey of self-discovery in Amsterdam, my one-item agenda on this particular day consisted solely of exploring my new city. In that moment, my explorations led me to Berus van Berlage, a medieval looking building in the city center where the art fair was slated to take place. I secured my bike to a nearby pole and headed inside having neither the intentions of purchasing art, nor the expectations of what fascinating people I might meet inside. 

I took my time strolling up and down each aisle, attempting to take in all of the photographs, sculptures, and paintings hanging on the walls of Berus van Berlage amidst the mixed crowd of intrigued passersbys and veteran art collectors. Eventually I found myself in the far right corner of the hall, where I came across a row of ceramic necklaces next to a sculpture of what appeared to be a naked woman with a severed torso. Nervously, I approached the woman standing next to the display and inquired if she was the artist who created the necklaces. She told me she was not, but the artist who did make the necklaces would be back from lunch in just a few minutes. I wandered aimlessly for a couple of minutes before returning to the far right corner to solicit information from the artist herself about the necklaces. 

Upon my return to the far right corner, I was greeted by a beautiful blonde woman who introduced herself to me as Mirjam (Miriam). Originally born in Turkey, Mirjam had immigrated to The Netherlands at the age of 5, living in different places throughout the country until settling in The Hague, a small city southwest of Amsterdam. From inside her apartment on the beach in Scheveningen, Mirjam creates all different types of art—pottery, paintings, and nearly everything in between—which she then sells at regional art fairs. The only piece she does not sell, but brings to every art show, is her most prized creation: a sculpture she calls “A Tribute to Every Woman in the World,” the woman with the severed torso. 

I then introduced myself as Allie, an American college student studying in Amsterdam for the semester, and asked if I could purchase one of the ceramic necklaces on display. In an exchange that lasted no more than 5 minutes, Mirjam wrapped up the necklace, handed me her card, and invited me to have coffee with her in The Hague should I ever found myself there. I then left the fair, not thinking too much about the encounter I just had with Mirjam. 

The following Wednesday I boarded a train from Amsterdam to The Hague. Mirjam was going to meet me and my friends at the train station, share a bite to eat with us, and then we would be on our separate ways; or at least, that is how I envisioned the day going. When I arrived in The Hague, Mirjam greeted me with a hug so tight you may have thought we had known each other for years having no prior knowledge of our relationship. She treated me and my friends to lunch, showed us the ins and outs of town, and then brought us back to her beachside apartment for snacks and drinks. Before heading back home to Amsterdam, we strolled along the ocean just as the sun was setting and I thanked her for an unforgettable day. On the ride home I replayed moments from the day over and over again in my mind, finding it difficult to process the bond I had just formed with a woman I met at an art fair that I hadn’t even planned on going to.  Though we had just gotten acquainted with one another, Miriam believed that our souls had met one another prior to our first physical encounter, and I could not help but think that she was right. 

Miriam and I kept in touch throughout the remainder of my stay in Amsterdam. Each month we met in a different city in Holland: Rotterdam in October, Amsterdam in November (where she met my family while they were visiting me), and Delft in December. Seeing all of these new places from her perspective made me appreciate them that much more. Every time I met up with her became adventures that I will never forget. When I return to Amsterdam next month, we will surely add another adventure to our list. 

Traveling or spending any significant period of time abroad presents one with unique opportunities to meet people they more than likely would not have met otherwise. While I could have never anticipated meeting Miriam where I did or forming the relationship I have since formed with her, being open to new experiences and meeting new people definitely lends itself to the possibility of forming relationships like the one I have with Miriam. So next time you find yourself at an art fair in Amsterdam, strike up a conversation with an artist you meet; perhaps she’ll become your Dutch mother just like Miriam became for me. 
 

Miriam and I in Delft at Café De Waag, December 2015

ALLIE BLUM

Born and raised just outside of Philadelphia, PA, Allie's love for travel has led her to find that you can call many places "home." While she is primarily based in New Orleans, LA, where she will be completing her undergraduate studies this coming May, Allie has spent significant periods of time traversing the continental US (mostly by car) and Europe, and parts of the Middle East. Allie hopes that her curiosity to understand other cultures will bring her to every continent over the course of her lifetime. When she's not studying or planning her next trip, Allie loves to read, write, and make playlists on Spotify.