Twenty-six years after he started hauling sugar cane, Earnest Bigby wants to call it a day. The job just isn’t worth the expense anymore. According to Bigby, 15 years ago he made $130 per ton hauling cane 14.5 miles from Old Harbour to Bernard Lodge in St Catherine.

Today, he makes an average of $90 more per ton to haul cane over a 17-mile distance from St Jago to the Monymusk estate in Clarendon.

But the increased price of fuel, plus the fact that it now costs him more money to maintain his truck, often leaves Bigby in the red after the crop is over, and he has three children now, two of whom are in school.

“Dem seh ‘Cain’ kill ‘Abel’,” he said, in a sort of comical analogy of the Biblical story, “but mi nah wait till it kill me. See it a dead out deh.”

Bigby’s reference was to a series of maladies the sugar industry has suffered this year.

In April, for instance, Frome estate in Westmoreland was locked down for three days as workers went on strike. An enquiry into the dispute was concluded in August and recommended the dismissal of the assistant operations manager, Corbett Victorine.

Agriculture Minister Roger Clarke also set up a committee to probe workers’ concerns at two other factories – Duckenfield in St Thomas and Monymusk in Clarendon. Clarke named an interim head of the Sugar Company of Jamaica (SCJ), amid calls for the resignation of the entire board. At the same time, the Government put up five SCJ-operated factories for divestment – Monymusk, Frome, Bernard Lodge, Duckenfield, and Long Pond – on the recommendation of a European Union consultant.

The National Commission on Science and Technology recently tabled a new study on sugar done by Noel Osborne which examined how the optimal use and production of energy could better the industry.

Among its recommendations were the forging of bilateral agreements for technical assistance from other countries with modernised sugar factories and a state directive that all new power plants be erected in the vicinity of sugar factories.

“Bagasse from the factories would be delivered to the power plants for the generation of steam… and the power plants would supply electricity to the sugar factory and process steam for concentration of juice,” the study suggested.

All that, however, doesn’t impress Bigby. “Nutten nuh inna cane,” he said, explaining that after making about $30,000 per week, he has to pay the sidemen on the truck, and the sugar company garnishes his wages for credited fuel or any loans he might have taken. All his money, he said, goes back into operating costs.

“Nuff time mi go down dere [the factory] and a blank cheque mi get,” Bigby said.

The truck he uses to haul cane is now parked at the back of his yard. He did not drive it during the last crop, which ended in May. In front of it is parked another truck, which he is now driving for a contractor, hauling bauxite.

“It don’t work out, every year it get worser and worser,” Bigby said. He believes that the divestment plan will not change anything.

“To how mi see it, even if dem sell it off, it nah go betta,” Bigby said.

Bigby’s, and two other families in their community of Effortville, a few miles northeast of the town of May Pen, are in the same boat. Their main source of income, which generations of their families have always relied on, is now uncertain.

“Mi come si mi grandparents inna cane and mi born an grow inna it. Dem seh Indian come from cane,” Bigby said, adding that the sugar cane workers in Clarendon are primarily of Indian descent.

His neighbour, 36 year-old Evadney Bassaragh, said her husband, Ralston Bassaragh, 56, has been hauling cane long before they met and she has known him since she was 15 years old. She said this year’s crop was okay, but the money spent on fuel and servicing the truck is their main concern.

The problem is the same for another woman, who gave her name only as Sadie. Her family has had a truck for three years that her son drives. Her husband, who used to be the main breadwinner, had a stroke two years ago.

“Last year, not even one cent we don’t see because the truck take back every ting,” Sadie said. “Every year, dem [the family] talk seh it not profitable, but we still have to go back in, nutten else to do.”

Unlike these families that each have one truck, Lessie Sybron operates on a larger scale. He has four trucks and his complaints are similar.

“In the ’90s, we used to get good pay doing haulage,” he said. “We could buy more trucks; you know, invest.” But now, the trucks are preventing any investment.

Because of this, he might not return to cane haulage next season. One other factor he said is when the sugar company directly employs drivers, private contractors are under added pressure to make the compensation package as attractive.

While Sybron, the Bassaraghs and Sadie’s family decide whether they will return next season, Bigby’s mind is made up. He is not sure what he will do when some savings he has been living off runs out, but he is sure of what he will not do.

“Canepiece (cane field) work hard,” Bigby said. “And cheap,” one of his sidemen concluded.