Brazilian lawyer goes to court against BHP over the Mariana dam collapse

The local population of the 600-member, close-knit community of Bento Rodrigues had long had doubts about the safety of the dam that rose high above their village.

According to Dead River, a podcast about the disaster, Edinaldo Oliveira de Assis, an excavator operator at the dam, had previously confided in his wife that he feared for his life.

He took videos of the problem areas and showed where the mud was dripping out.

Assis died when the dam collapsed. His wife has not received anything so far.

In her opening statements on Wednesday, Shaheed Fatima of Blackstone Chambers on behalf of BHP focused on “the clear distinction between direct and indirect polluter”.

She argued that a direct polluter must actually ‘exploit’ or ‘carry out’ the activity that causes the damage and that BHP, as the controlling shareholder, therefore directs and directs the company, but cannot ultimately be liable for damage.

On day two of the trial, a study will be published in Brazil by the Getulio Vargas Foundation examining the longer-term consequences of the dam’s collapse.

It discovered the heavy metals in the mud – iron, silicon and aluminum – had poisoned the water source, reducing life expectancy by an average of two and a half years per person. And, horrifyingly, the rate of miscarriage had increased by 400 percent.

Luciano Magalhães, a biologist who works for one of Brazil’s largest water treatment companies, told Dead River: “It looks like they threw a whole periodic table into the river. It is of no use anymore.”

‘You couldn’t see the water, only dead fish’

Jonathan Knowles, originally from Harrogate, was living further downstream at Govenador Valadares, on the banks of the River Doce, with his Brazilian partner and son when the dam collapsed.

He said: “On the first day there were rumors that a tidal wave was coming. On day two, thick, gloomy waves appeared. On day three it was biblical: you could no longer see the water, only dead fish as far as the eye could see.”

He describes how they were initially instructed to store as much water as possible, but then, as the water became toxic, trucks moved around to deliver bottled water daily to the 280,000 people who had relied on the Doce for supplies. .

“When the trucks came, the tires would kick the dust into the air and you could see it shining through all the metal in them. People will potentially consume this for the rest of their lives,” he says.

Mr Knowles has since returned to Harrogate with his family.

Meanwhile, since that November day in 2015, Ms Fernandes has never opened a book to study, nor has she been given a permanent home – she has moved constantly in recent years with her three children.

For the indigenous Krenak community, who have lived on the banks of the river for hundreds of years, the Doce was not only their food and water supply, but also their god.

Outside the Supreme Court, they proudly don their headdresses and hold up bottles of cloudy brown water labeled ‘a taste of negligence’ and offer a sip to Blackstone Chambers’ finest legal minds as they walk past them into the courtroom, with their heads down.