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Shell still avoiding oil spill justice

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Oil polluting the waters of the Niger Delta. © Sarah Shoraka

The Nigerian community of Bodo hit the headlines this week. In a spectacular jiu jitsu manoeuvre, they forced a £55m ($83 million) settlement from Shell over two oil spills that destroyed their homes and livelihoods.

While this is an important victory for social movements, it’s not the end of the story. It’s part of a larger battle for justice in the Niger Delta, and this year will be pivotal.

While the settlement is valuable to those who lost their income, there is a long way to go before justice is done. It must be seen in the context of a neo-colonial resource grab with oil companies profiting from the suffering of communities, and a complicit Nigerian elite that uses military power to ensure business as usual.

Bodo is a small part of the story. Hundreds of oil spills happen every year in the Niger Delta, making it one of the most polluted places on earth. Shell has tried to use its PR spin to blame communities for the problem, but this has been disproved by research by Amnesty International and Nigerian organization CEHRD.

Shell lied about the numbers of barrels spilled at Bodo, claiming that it was less than 1 per cent of the actual size – just like BP did in the Gulf of Mexico, throwing its assessment of all spills into doubt.

Whatever the cause or size of the spills, oil companies are required by law to remediate the pollution. But this is not happening.

My research in Ogoniland shows that three years after a damning UN report came out, documenting decades of Shell’s pollution, almost nothing has happened. I witnessed creeks and soil reeking of oil, in areas that Shell claims to have remediated.

Communities report oil crusts on their land, rotten crops and poisoned fish. Emergency water supplies have not been delivered, forcing local residents to drink oil-polluted water. Shell’s lack of action means that people are getting sick, are unable to feed themselves, and are dying.

Shell claims that it will now clean up the pollution in Bodo – six years after the first spill. This promise rings hollow, as we know that Shell had already been aware that the pipeline in question was of ‘immediate and utmost concern’ and that ‘there [was] a risk and likelihood of rupture’; knowing this, it failed to take action to prevent the spills.

Communities in the region are now speaking out about a complete breakdown of trust between them and Shell. In November last year, I heard reports about a new oil spill at Bonny, in the Niger Delta.

Shell says that the spill was caused by oil theft, but an investigation by Niger Delta organization Social Action shows that it was caused by the company’s own excavation work. Again, the community says that the spill is much bigger than Shell is acknowledging.

Buoyed by the victory for Bodo, the Bonny community is seeking legal advice. Unless there is concerted and immediate action from Shell, the company is likely to face a deluge of legal claims.

In 2014, a campaign led by Nigeria’s civil society, and supported by organizations such as Platform led to Shell and the Nigerian Government pledging money and starting a process to clean up Ogoniland.

It’s a welcome step forward after years of deadlock, but it is still too early to know if it will lead to lasting change. Meanwhile, communities have yet to experience any benefits.

November 2015 will see the 20th anniversary of the execution of Ken Saro-Wiwa and eight other Ogoni people for campaigning against Shell destroying their home.

Social movements in Nigeria are building up momentum to that November anniversary, using protests, events, gatherings and public interventions. The plan is to use Ken’s legacy and memory as a catalyst for change, and to push for a wholesale clean-up of the Niger Delta. We must support their movement for justice.

Sarah Shoraka is an activist and campaigner at Platform.
For more on the resurgence of resistance in the Niger Delta, see ‘The Spirit of Saro-Wiwa rises’ by Patrick Naagbaton, in our recent ‘Big Oil RIP?’ issue.

Reclaim our bard


Reclaim Shakespeare Company ‘actors.’ Photo: David Hoffman

Last night, I found myself on stage in London, facing a packed Noel Coward Theatre during a performance of Much Ado About Nothing in London’s West End. I’m not an actor. In fact, I haven’t really been on stage since my pre-teen years. With my heart banging in my chest and my mind racing, I stepped through the looking glass separating actor from audience. From the stalls, I climbed up the steps to the stage, blinked in the lights and took a deep breath…

I am involved with a group called the Reclaim Shakespeare Company. Some of us come from a background of activism or the arts, some just heard about what the group was doing and wanted to be a part of it. We have been performing two-minute pieces just before or during the interval of Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC) productions sponsored by BP. Last night was our eighth performance. We use the language from the plays to open up debate – I like to think that if Shakespeare were alive today, he would have engaged with this issue.

Reclaim Shakespeare Company formed because corporations are stepping up to fill a small part of the gap in arts funding left by government cuts. It is easy to see who benefits more from these relationships: corporates hope to mend their tarnished image by tossing some crumbs from the table to arts institutions, and to shrink the space for subversive narratives and interventions.

BP needs to mend its image more than art institutions need their money. Through the Deep Water Horizon oil disaster and a series of extreme weather events, the Global North has been forced to confront head-on the destructive nature of our addiction to oil. BP fought liabilities and is still chasing the last drops of oil – despite the economic and environmental costs of doing so – through their risky exploits in the Arctic and the Canadian tar sands. This oil will come to the markets in coming decades, when we should have moved to existing clean technologies. Their business model relies on dangerous climate change and the destruction of the earth and life as we know it.

Our performance went well. One of the actors stopped security from removing us from the stage, applauded us and then congratulated us personally. We also had support from another actor through a series of tweets and a picture taken of our performance as the actors huddled at the side of the stage to see. It still makes me laugh and cringe simultaneously to think about this.

We know that we are having an impact. RSC Playwright in Residence Mark Ravenhill revealed during a talk at the Latitude Festival this summer that there was now a huge debate going on within the RSC about BP. As the BP-sponsored season draws to a close this month, all eyes are on new RSC Artistic Director Gregory Doran – who also directed this production of Much Ado About Nothing – to see if he continues the relationship beyond the World Shakespeare Festival. It doesn’t have to be this way. The National Gallery ended a long-running sponsorship deal with an arms company earlier this month. In the words of Muzz Khan, one of the cast from Much Ado About Nothing: ‘It’s good to fight for what you believe in. I hope we can get somebody else instead of BP.’


Much Ado About BP from Zoe Broughton on Vimeo.