Cut Fingers and Toxic Fumes: India's E-waste Workers Risk Health Daily

New Delhi, India – Mateen Malik sits in a cramped workshop in New Delhi's Mustafabad neighbourhood, carefully stripping copper wires from discarded electronic components. Around him lie broken coolers, tangled cables, scrap metal, and piles of old computers and laptops stacked against the blackened walls.

Malik's ungloved hands move swiftly, peeling plastic insulation from wires to extract the copper inside. He often uses a blowtorch to detach parts, a process that releases highly toxic chemicals into the air, posing severe health risks.

“Sometimes stripping copper is tough, and I have no protective gear – no gloves, no mask. I often get burns too. It’s routine in our work. Chemical residue is also there,” Malik told Al Jazeera. “But I depend on this job.”

Malik, in his early twenties, is an untrained e-waste sorter in Mustafabad's informal sector – one of India's informal waste hubs, where narrow, dusty lanes echo with constant hammering and the smell of burning plastic and metal.

An average worker here earns about one dollar for dismantling a mobile phone and double that for a television, totaling roughly $8 per day for 12 hours of grueling work – without gloves, masks, or protective gear. The hidden cost, therefore, is far higher: chronic illness, environmental pollution, and generational toxic exposure.

Dangerous Work

India is the world's third-largest producer of e-waste after China and the United States, with recycling volume growing nearly 23% annually. In March, Union Minister for Environment, Forest and Climate Change Kirti Vardhan Singh said India generated over 1.4 million tonnes of e-waste in 2025-2026, of which about 979,000 tonnes were recycled.

According to a report from India's Central Pollution Control Board to the National Green Tribunal, New Delhi alone accounts for nearly 10% of India's total e-waste, producing about 230,000 tonnes annually. Behind the discarded devices lies a vast network of scrap dealers, repair shops, and backyard dismantlers, often working with little awareness of toxic risks.

In another small workshop, thin black smoke rises as Muhammad Faizan burns insulation off wires to recover copper. Walls inside have turned black from constant burning. The acrid smell of melting plastic fills the air as the migrant worker from Bulandshahr district, Uttar Pradesh, toils alongside three others in a cramped space.

“This is dangerous work. I sit in one place every day from 9 a.m. to 8 p.m. When I take apart components, I often cut my hands. And when we burn plastic to get metal, I inhale the smoke,” he said. “We are paid according to the amount of metal we extract, so it depends on how many kg I get each day.”

Nearby, a group of women workers gather in another shop, using bare hands to separate copper, silver, and even traces of gold from discarded chips and hard drives. The room is stifling hot, as electronic parts fill most of the cramped space.

“Working conditions are very harsh, the space is small, only a few fans that barely ease the heat. We also get frequent cuts and infections,” said Shakila, a 48-year-old migrant worker from West Bengal state. Sometimes, she says, she can't finish her share and takes it home. “We are also paid less than men, but at least we earn some money,” she added.

Al Jazeera contacted India's Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change and the Delhi Pollution Control Committee about workers' safety and enforcement of relevant regulations but received no response.

Families Also Affected

Bharati Chaturvedi, founder and director of Chintan, an environmental research and action group, said one defining feature of India's informal e-waste economy is the overlap between homes and workplaces. “Very often, workers live on the upper floor, and dismantling happens on the ground floor or on the roof,” she said. “The first thing one notices is the proximity of these things, many of which are broken, releasing lead dust and other toxins. They can catch fire.”

The consequences extend beyond the workers themselves. Families, including children, are regularly exposed because they live in the same spaces where e-waste is processed. “There is an impact, especially on children, due to extremely potent toxins. There is a lack of accountability in improving workers' conditions,” Chaturvedi said, describing a range of health risks associated with informal recycling, including cuts, infections, lead exposure, toxic dust, and hazardous chemicals.

According to the World Health Organization (WHO), informal recycling activities can release hazardous substances such as lead, mercury, cadmium, and dioxins into the environment. The WHO has linked exposure to these pollutants with neurodevelopmental impairment, reduced lung function, and respiratory diseases, particularly in children living near recycling sites.

Last year, a study of informal e-waste workers in Delhi's Seelampur area found they face significant occupational health risks while having limited awareness of the hazards of handling e-waste. Despite the risks, only about 10% of workers regularly use personal protective equipment, citing cost and inconvenience as main barriers.

Although India has laws and regulations governing e-waste, informal recyclers operate outside the law, in contrast to licensed workshops. Government data shows India has only 322 authorized e-waste recycling facilities, while researchers estimate the informal sector still handles nearly 95% of the country's discarded electronics.

Rehman, who wanted to share only his surname, owns a small workshop in Mustafabad where he employs six workers. He said profit margins in the recycling business are razor-thin, making it difficult for small facilities like his to provide protective gear and other workplace amenities. “We can't afford to invest in infrastructure and amenities like larger recycling companies. Here we pay workers based on the volume of waste they process. How can the business survive if we increase costs?” he said.

A 2019 report by Toxics Link, an environmental NGO, identified at least 15 informal e-waste hotspots across New Delhi that do not comply with occupational safety or environmental protection measures, exposing workers and nearby communities to dangerous pollutants.

Call for Reform and Inclusion

Chaturvedi argues the government should focus on bringing informal workers into the formal economy rather than devising policies that exclude them. “The way I see it, you have to formalize the workers. You can't keep them in the informal sector,” she said. Earlier versions of India's e-waste policies allowed cooperatives, self-help groups, and associations to apply for licenses to collect and dismantle. Those provisions no longer exist.

Satish Sinha, associate director at Toxics Link, said India's informal workers continue to play a central role in the e-waste economy despite being excluded from it. “By law, informal labour is not allowed to handle this kind of waste. But that's not how the law is enforced. The informal sector still plays a major role. They collect, aggregate, transport, and to a large extent, dismantle e-waste. Some also recover metals from it,” he said. According to Sinha, informal workers should be integrated into the system, but some activities need stricter oversight.

As night falls over Mustafabad, the sounds of hammering and tearing of electronic components continue behind closed doors, as workers sort components that may eventually re-enter the supply chain. “We have no other jobs; we depend on this. It brings us income and helps us survive in a city like New Delhi,” Shakila said.