With a towel shielding him from the scorching sun, Hamza Jabbari quietly weighs sacks of plastic bottles—his daily hustle in Tunisia’s growing army of “barbechas”. These informal waste pickers have become an unspoken symbol of the country’s economic despair and mounting migration crisis.
Highlights:
- Barbechas are Tunisia’s informal recyclers, collecting plastic to earn a living
- The number of waste pickers is rising amid worsening unemployment and inflation
- Tunisia’s economic struggles are pushing more youth into informal labour
- Some barbechas view migration as the only way out
- Plastic recycling has become both a lifeline and a last resort
Main Story
Across Tunisia’s cities, towns, and landfills, a growing number of people—mostly young men—are turning to plastic waste as a means of survival. Known locally as “barbechas,” these informal recyclers comb through rubbish bins and dumps in search of bottles, containers, and other discarded plastics they can sell for cash.
Hamza Jabbari, draped in a worn-out towel to shield from the heat, is one of them. Each day, he collects bags of plastic, loads them onto a scale, and earns just enough to keep going. “It’s not work I dreamed of, but it’s work that feeds me,” he says.
Tunisia’s economic conditions have worsened in recent years, with high inflation, a weak currency, and few job opportunities especially for the youth. As formal employment becomes scarce, many are forced into the informal sector, where barbechas represent both the desperation and determination of a generation fighting to stay afloat.
Plastic waste, once seen as pollution, is now a lifeline. Informal recyclers sell their collected materials to middlemen or local processing centers, earning modest returns for long hours of physically demanding labor.
For many barbechas, collecting plastic is only temporary. Their eyes are set on Europe, where they hope for better opportunities. Tunisia has seen a significant rise in illegal sea crossings, with many citing poverty and hopelessness as their reasons for leaving.
But not everyone makes it. For those who remain, like Hamza, the cycle of collecting, weighing, and selling continues—an emblem of a country struggling to balance economic survival with social dignity.
In the rustle of plastic and the clink of weighed bottles, Tunisia’s barbechas speak volumes—about resilience, survival, and a youth trapped between waste and the dream of escape.
