From Abidjan to Antwerp: When Time Becomes a Strategy

Twenty years after one of the most notorious environmental disasters linked to a global commodities trader, UN experts say thousands of victims are still waiting for justice. For Nyrstar shareholders, the story of Probo Koala, raises a broader question: how many years should those affected by corporate conduct have to fight before accountability finally catches up?

Twenty years is a long time.

Long enough for corporate leadership to change. Long enough for settlements to be reached, court cases to come and go, and public attention to move elsewhere. But apparently not always long enough for victims to obtain justice.

That is the disturbing conclusion of a new intervention by United Nations human rights experts concerning Trafigura and the Probo Koala toxic-waste scandal in Côte d’Ivoire.

The Probo Koala was the name of an oil and chemical tanker, chartered by Trafigura. In August 2006, the vessel delivered toxic waste to the port of Abidjan. The waste was dumped by a local contractor at multiple locations around the city.

According to the figures cited by the UN experts, 17 people died following toxic-gas exposure and more than 100,000 sought medical attention. Residents reported nausea, headaches, respiratory problems, eye irritation and skin burns.

Twenty years later, the UN experts say thousands of victims are still seeking justice, accountability and effective remedies.

Their conclusion deserves attention far beyond Côte d’Ivoire.

A disaster that did not begin in Africa

The history is particularly troubling because Abidjan was not the first proposed destination for the waste.

In July 2006, the Probo Koala had begun unloading its waste in Amsterdam. According to the UN experts, after the company handling the waste tested it and increased the price for disposal, Trafigura decided to reload the material onto the vessel.

The ship subsequently left the Netherlands and eventually arrived in Côte d’Ivoire. The UN experts describe what followed in exceptionally strong terms: an example of hazardous waste being transferred to the developing world resulting in widespread human-rights violations and what they call “flagrant environmental racism”.

The subsequent legal history is almost as remarkable as the original events.

Victims pursued proceedings in Côte d’Ivoire and the United Kingdom. Approximately 30,000 claimants reached an out-of-court settlement with Trafigura in the UK, although the UN experts note that many victims reportedly never received the compensation intended for them.

They also point to another disturbing aspect: expert evidence was sealed. The UN experts are unequivocal on that point. Scientific and other evidence concerning toxic substances, they argue, should not be removed from public scrutiny through confidential legal settlements.

In the Netherlands, Trafigura was convicted in 2010 for illegally exporting toxic waste from Amsterdam and concealing its hazardous nature. A criminal fine was imposed.

Yet two decades after the dumping itself, the UN experts' central message is that effective remedy remains unfinished business.

The issue is no longer one isolated scandal

The Probo Koala affair is already documented on the Nyrstar Collective website as part of a broader record of controversies involving Trafigura. But the latest UN intervention makes the case worth revisiting for another reason.

The question is not whether the facts surrounding Abidjan and Nyrstar are the same. They are not.

One concerns toxic waste and human suffering on an enormous scale. The other concerns the restructuring of a listed Belgian company, the transfer of virtually all its operational assets and an ongoing battle by minority shareholders over what happened to their investment and their company.

Equating the two would be inappropriate. What deserves scrutiny, however, is the way both dossiers appear to evolve over time.

Responsibility becomes fragmented across companies, contractors, jurisdictions, agreements and legal structures. Litigation follows. Settlements, procedural battles and years of legal argument accumulate. And those seeking accountability are required to demonstrate extraordinary persistence.

Time itself becomes a factor. That is precisely why the words of the UN experts resonate so strongly with the Nyrstar dossier: “Victims cannot be expected to wait another two decades for justice.” Neither should shareholders.

Persistence in the Face of Delay

The Nyrstar story is now in its seventh year since the 2019 restructuring through which virtually all of the operating assets of Nyrstar NV ultimately came under Trafigura's control. Minority shareholders have spent those years pursuing answers through courts, regulators and other authorities.

And the dossier has not disappeared. Quite the opposite.

In June 2026, Nyrstar NV announced that it had been formally placed under suspicion in the ongoing Antwerp criminal investigation for alleged forgery and use of false annual accounts and alleged misuse of corporate assets.

In Côte d’Ivoire, victims have been fighting for effective remedy for twenty years. In Belgium, Nyrstar's minority shareholders have been fighting for answers since 2019.

The nature and gravity of the two cases are fundamentally different. But both demonstrate why regulators, courts and governments should be wary of assuming that the passage of time resolves corporate controversies.

Sometimes it does the opposite.

Documents emerge. Investigations advance. Earlier decisions acquire new significance. Questions once dismissed as allegations become matters for regulators, prosecutors or courts to examine.

That is why persistence matters. Cases become complicated. Responsibility becomes contested. Proceedings multiply. Those seeking redress grow older, exhaust their resources or simply give up.

And yet sometimes they do not.

The victims of Abidjan have not.

Neither have Nyrstar's minority shareholders.

When delay becomes a rule-of-law issue

Nonetheless, justice should not depend on who can afford to wait the longest. There is also a broader principle at stake. The right to a fair trial is a fundamental right in any democratic society. Under Article 6 of the European Convention on Human Rights, that right includes the right to have a case heard within a reasonable time.

Justice delayed is therefore not merely an inconvenience for those seeking redress. At some point, excessive delay risks undermining the very effectiveness of justice itself.

That matters far beyond any individual case. A functioning democracy depends not only on laws, courts and regulators, but also on the reasonable expectation that wrongdoing can ultimately lead to accountability and that those who have suffered harm can obtain effective redress.

And that raises an uncomfortable question: What happens when delay itself becomes part of a way of doing business?

If endlessly delaying legal proceedings and withholding effective compensation from victims becomes part of a way of doing business, the consequences extend well beyond those directly affected.

It risks creating a climate of impunity for wrongdoers, while fostering a profound sense of powerlessness among victims.

First and foremost, this sends the message that sufficient resources, legal complexity and persistence can postpone accountability almost indefinitely. Secondary, it sends an equally damaging message to victims: that even when they are right, obtaining effective redress may require years or even decades of litigation.

Both are corrosive to the proper functioning of a democratic society governed by the rule of law. This is not an argument for rushed judgments or predetermined outcomes. Justice must be careful. Courts must be independent. Defendants must be able to exercise their full rights of defence. Due process is itself fundamental to the rule of law. But due process and justice within a reasonable time are not opposing principles. They are both part of the same fundamental right.

Twenty years after Abidjan and seven years after the restructuring of Nyrstar, that distinction matters.

Justice must be capable of arriving in time to still mean something.

Go to original article