In the past, once a week, your newspaper published a small map of Cyprus on which would be recorded a reading for pollution at six or seven location around the island.
The readings ranged from P – Poor, L – Low, M – Medium, E – Excellent, or similar values. The readings were provided by the Air Quality Section of the Department of Labour Inspection (DLI). Each location was named except for one notable omission: a position on the south coast mid-way between Larnaca and Limassol, which was never identified with a name.
However, anyone with only a passing knowledge of the geography of Cyprus could work out for themselves that this mystery location could only be Zygi. Another curious fact was that almost without exception this unnamed place would be consistently graded as Poor, while all the others might bask in a pollution-free atmosphere for that day.
These days your newspaper has discontinued the printing of a weekly map, instead you reprint daily the DLI’s list of locations: Nicosia, Larnaca, Limassol, Paphos, Paralimni, and Prodromos, with a pollution level grading alongside each place. Notice that Zygi is not now included, nor are any of these towns remotely close to Zygi.
So, to the curious reader a number of questions spring to mind concerning the DLIs presentation of this information: why in the past was Zygi never named, even though a mobile monitoring station was positioned there; how did Zygi earn its unfailing grading of poor; why has Zygi now been dropped from the published list of monitoring stations?
Let me suggest some answers. Firstly, Zygi was never named because it has only two things for which it is famous: fish restaurants, and a cement works; since its consistent grading of Poor can hardly be blamed on the former, the latter must be the culprit. Secondly, it does not now figure in the list of named towns because that would immediately draw attention to the fact that the cement works at Zygi is a persistent and major polluter of the atmosphere. How do I suspect this? Because I live in the village of Maroni which lies three miles down-wind from Zygi; the prevailing south-westerly wind carries the finer particles of this pollution and dumps it on my village.
Some mornings, when I go to my car, I find that it is covered by a fine layer of cement, like talcum powder. If there has been a heavy dew during the night this cement dust is transformed into a thin crust of mortar, which, to the accompaniment of a sickening grinding noise, the windscreen wipers have a hard task removing.
If a northerly wind blows during the night, the next morning, a grey stain stretches out to sea for about two miles from this cement works. My next-door neighbour, a local fisherman, says that he never bothers fishing in or near this area because it has become sterile, lacking most forms of marine life.
To have one’s car periodically coated in a thin film of cement is an irritation, but not life-threatening. What is more sinister though is the high incidence of asthma that appears to afflict inhabitants of my village. I admit that this does not constitute a scientific survey, but it does give an indication that there is something wrong here that needs further investigation.
In the twenty-first century it cannot be beyond the wit of man to devise filters that will prevent this form of pollution escaping from a cement works to poison the atmosphere. Or, could it be that such filters do exist and the factory fails to ensure that they are fitted; and the government is too supine to devise an effective system of enforcement?
But we should not despair: the EU will soon no doubt detect this pollution and, like the recent electricity surcharge, impose a fine which our government will then pass on to us, the innocent public.
Michael Duddridge
Maroni Village, Larnaca
