In the heart of Nānākuli, a predominantly Native Hawaiian community, is the 188-acre PVT landfill. There are hundreds of homes, dozens of farms, six schools and scores of churches, parks, stores, and medical clinics located within a 1-mile radius of the landfill; and some homes are less than a half mile from the site.
The landfill is just off Lualualei Naval Road, about a quarter mile ma uka of Farrington Hwy. The Ulehawa Stream runs along the landfill’s west side and flows from there to the Princess Kahanu Estates Hawaiian Homes community and then out to sea.
The PVT Land Company assumed ownership and management responsibility for the facility in 1992, seven years after it opened in 1985. It receives more than 40% of the waste generated on the island of Oʻahu which includes wood, plastic, furniture, mattresses and contaminated soil.
The landfill is also Oʻahu’s only construction and demolition debris facility, so it receives gypsum drywall which breaks down into hydrogen sulfide gas, a toxic, flammable gas that smells like rotten eggs. When humans are exposed to high levels of hydrogen sulfide it can lead to a malfunction of the central nervous system and respiratory paralysis.
In January 2021, PVT landfill finally stopped accepting waste contaminated with asbestos. Waste materials disposed of in the landfill are “covered” with ash from the AES Coal Power Plant in Kapolei.
The decision 40 years ago to place a landfill in a community that is more than 50% Native Hawaiian is a decisive example of environmental racism. It is a scenario that has played out time and again in less affluent, browner communities across the United States and the world.
Environmental Racism Explained
American civil rights leader Dr. Benjamin Franklin Chavis, Jr., coined the term “environmental racism” in 1982 when he was serving as the executive director of the United Church of Christ’s Commission for Racial Justice.
Chavis defined environmental racism as intentionally locating polluting and waste facilities in communities primarily populated by people of color (Blacks, Latinos, Asians, Indigenous People) and low-income workers.
Research published by the National Institutes of Health found that living within 1.8 miles of a landfill may result in negative health effects due to the exposure to chemicals and toxins that affect water supplies, air quality and ground conditions.
Public health studies have concluded that people living near landfills are at higher risk for developing cancers, asthma, chronic respiratory ailments, gastrointestinal issues, skin irritation and tuberculosis. Children born to mothers living near landfills are more likely to have low birth rates or be born with congenital heart defects.
According to the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC), environmental racism is a form of systemic racism that “exists largely because of policies and practices that have historically, and to this day, favored the health, wellbeing, and consumer choices of white communities over those of non-white, low-income communities.”
NRDC asserts that, in America, this is an outcome of segregation and redlining created and enforced via land use policies and local zoning codes. These fundamentally racist policies discourage investment in such areas, which in turn erode asset values and the tax base, resulting in deteriorated housing and public infrastructure.
Communities vulnerable to environmental racism lack the resources and representation to voice their opposition to environmental abuses within, or adjacent to, their communities. People in these communities are often poor, have no political power, and lack mobility (i.e., they cannot afford to move).
Community Resistance to the PVT Landfill
Prior to 2020, there were no laws in the State of Hawaiʻi requiring a minimum “buffer zone” between homes and landfills or other waste facilities. It was this lack of regulation that allowed the establishment of a landfill in Nānākuli so close to existing homes, schools and farms.
Community concern about the landfill goes back decades, but when PVT Land Company attempted to expand its Nānākuli landfill to within 750 feet of existing homes in September 2019, residents pushed back hard, collecting more than 5,500 signatures in opposition to the expansion.
In response, during the 2020 legislative session, the Hawaiian Affairs Caucus, co-chaired by Rep. Daniel Holt and Sen. Jarrett Keohokalole, introduced legislation to establish a minimum half mile “buffer zone” between residences, hospitals, schools and any future landfill.
Although the bill faced significant opposition from both the waste management industry and county governments, Gov. David Ige signed SB2386 into law as Act 73 on Sept. 15, 2020. It is considered one of the most progressive environmental justice laws in modern Hawaiʻi history.
But it is far from perfect. Although it prohibits construction of new waste or disposal facilities within a half mile of residential communities, existing facilities can continue operating until 2050 (but may not expand at their current locations).
Moreover, the half-mile buffer zone established by the law is, arguably, inadequate, as environmental researchers have concluded that living within a 1.8 miles radius of a landfill is unsafe.
Notably, Nānākuli is not the only community on the Waiʻanae Coast affected by environmental racism. Eleven of Oʻahu’s 18 sewage treatment plants, active landfills and power plants are in the moku of Waiʻanae.
“West Oʻahu, home to the largest concentration of Native Hawaiians per capita, has faced over 40 years of environmental racism, shouldering the island’s ʻōpala through the Waimānalo Gulch Sanitary Landfill, PVT Landfill, and H-Power, leading to serious health impacts,” said Anthony Makana Paris, chair of the Makakilo- Kapolei-Honokai Hale Neighborhood Board.
Paris says that, to rectify this injustice, “west side communities deserve compensation and health risk mitigation measures, such as dust screening, air scrubbers, and indoor waste processing.”
Last year, the neighborhood board passed two resolutions: one supporting a real property tax exemption for residents living within a half mile of a landfill, and another supporting “host community” compensation for neighborhoods impacted by active landfills.
In a March 2022 article, “Environmental Justice for Native Hawaiians: Preventing Landfill Expansion on the Waiʻanae Coast” published by the Environmental Law Education Center, Kassandra Kometani writes, “The overrepresentation of predominantly poor and ethnic minority residents living on the Waiʻanae Coast creates a ripe setting for environmental injustices to occur.”
An Ongoing Problem and No Easy Solution
“West O‘ahu, home to the largest concentration of Native Hawaiians per capita, has faced over 40 years of environmental racism…leading to serious health impacts.” – Anthony Makana Paris
With a million residents plus 125,000 tourists crowded onto Oʻahu’s 597 square miles on any given day, managing the 1.9 million tons of waste generated on the island each year is an ongoing challenge.
This is amplified by the need to protect the island’s water table and conservation zones, concerns about projected sea level rise and tsunami evacuation zones, observation of mandatory airport buffers, and placement away from homes, schools, hospitals and farms as required by Act 73.
During FY 2021-22, the City and County of Honolulu’s Department of Environmental Services (ENV) was tasked with identifying potential sites for the next municipal solid waste landfill for Oʻahu in alignment with the new state regulations. The county is urgently looking for a site to replace the Waimānalo Gulch Sanitary Landfill (also located on the west side, ma uka of Kapolei) that is scheduled to cease operations in March 2028.
The ENV’s recommendations were originally due by Dec. 31, 2022, but an extension was requested and a new deadline, Dec. 31, 2024, was set.
To date, the ENV has been unable to identify a site for the new municipal waste facility.
Last month, Ian Bauer reported in a Honolulu Star-Advertiser article that the City and County is considering locating its next landfill on privately owned lands – which means employing the government’s powers of condemnation. Even more concerning, Honolulu City and County executives have recently suggested repealing or amending Act 73.
City spokesperson Ryan Wilson was quoted as saying “the city is considering sites that would require amendment to Act 73 restrictions and sites that might require eminent domain.”
In 2023, Honolulu City Council Chair Tommy Waters introduced Bill 39 to support west side communities with a real property tax exemption for landfill proximity, but as some city officials seek to repeal or amend Act 73, progress has stalled.
Paris queried, “This begs the question – why is the city considering placing a landfill just one-half mile from hospitals, homes, and schools, or even within conservation districts?”
Given the challenges of managing waste on an island with a large population and finite land resources, finding yet another landfill site on Oʻahu is a stop-gap solution at best.
Hawaiʻi’s leaders need to look seriously at landfill alternatives, such as waste to energy incineration, chemical recycling, composting, smart waste management systems and zero waste initiatives. These are radical changes from current practices, but necessary to protect the future health of our ʻāina and people.
In the meantime, with the clock ticking, Honolulu City and County administrators say they are confident that they will be able to identify a new Oʻahu landfill site by the end of the year.
Stay tuned.
Read previous Ka Wai Ola articles about the PVT landfill struggle in Nānākuli by Anthony Makana Paris, JD, and Kamuela Werner, MPH: “Not in Anyone’s Backyard” and “Not in Anyone’s Backyard II – Our Promise to Future Generations”.
Examples of Environmental Racism
In America, predominantly Black communities are particularly affected by environmental racism. A well-known example is the town of Flint, Mich., that suffered lead poisoning when the city switched its drinking water supply from Detroit’s freshwater system to the contaminated Flint River to save money.
Another example is “Cancer Alley,” the 85-mile stretch along the Mississippi River where cancer prevalence among its majority Black population is 44% higher than the national average due to the toxic emissions of more than 150 petrochemical plants located on the river front.
Among Indigenous peoples, uranium mining on Navajo land has caused cancer rates in the Navajo Nation to double, while the Dakota Access Pipeline was re-routed under Lake Oahe, the Standing Rock Sioux Nation’s primary water source, to avoid a route that would run the pipeline too close to the predominantly white community of Bismark in North Dakota.
But environmental racism is not unique to America.
In the e-waste hub of Giuyu, China, entire towns have been exposed to toxic materials and 80% of children in the region suffer from lead poisoning. Mass shipments of used car batteries from America are shipped to metal recyclers in Naucalpan De Juarez, Mexico, resulting in lead poisoning of people and livestock and contamination of the area’s soil, air and water. And Chile’s Atacama Desert has become a dumping ground for “fast fashion” waste with around 59,000 tons of non-biodegradable clothing shipped to the country each year.
Closer to home, examples of environmental racism include nuclear weapons testing in the Pacific – by France in Tahiti and America in the Marshall Islands. And the latest threat to Moananuiākea and its people, deep sea mining, falls into this category as well.
