The Life of an Artisanal Miner
Artisanal and small scale mining (ASM) accounts for more than 90% of solid mining in Nigeria. The sector is informal and serves as a means of livelihood for more than 2 million people in Nigeria, including women and children. There has been a recent upsurge in workers in this sector as a result of unemployment and poverty. Artisanal miners are uneducated and unskilled, with no legal permit or qualification to work in the mines. They employ crude methods, using local or household implements for mineral exploration. For their daily sustenance, artisanal miners depend on the minerals they find, such as gold, tourmaline, silver, tin, dolomite, emerald, topaz, columbite etc.
The cool breeze brushed my face as I approached an open shed to wait for one or two miners to speak with. It was almost sunset and most miners were returning to their homes. I observed several bag-packs hung on the wall, the bare floor littered with debris and long benches that serve as beds for the miners. Then I noticed Abubakar Mamuda, a 29-year-old artisanal miner from Kebbi State in the Northern part of Nigeria, sitting on a slab of one of the stores in the market. Speaking his local dialect, I greeted him: ‘Ina wuni, yaya aiki,' and he replied, ‘lafia.’ We further exchanged pleasantries as I enquired and chatted with him about his activities as a miner.
Below, in his own words (minimally edited for clarity), is what he told me:
I had been a farmer all my life before I ventured into mining about 6 years ago. I stay with five other miners in a room rented for us by our Oga [meaning boss]. I leave the room at 6 a.m and it takes me about 25 minutes to trek to the farmland where I work. On getting there, I change into my working clothes, which l always leave at the site. I start digging and keep digging for at least four hours, after which I pack up the soils I have dug up to wash in the river. If I notice any gold deposit in the soil as I wash it, I go back to dig some more. But if the soil is washed and there is no gold deposit, I move to another spot to start the digging process all over again. Since we are into illegal mining, we go into farmlands within the community unlawfully to dig for gold deposits. Whoever is caught by the landowners is charged and sentenced to days, months or years in prison unless help comes from a dealer who’s willing to bail him out.
Before now, miners used to pay a fee of ₦200 to enter anywhere in the town to mine, but that has been cancelled. However, when we find a mineral deposit without getting caught, we inform our Ogas. Then the Ogas look for the owners of the land and buy it off them. Wherever land is bought from the owners, we are hired to sample the land for gold deposits. We are paid enough to feed us for each day of work: an average of $2.86 per miner. I have many Ogas. I was paid ₦200,000 when I found a gold deposit some time ago.
Life as a miner is full of risks and very challenging. A single mistake can end the life of a miner and those of his colleagues at the site; for example there could be a sudden fall of pits as we dig, and other times it could just be part of the pit caving in and causing serious injuries to some part of our bodies. We have lost many miners as a result of this.
There’s no rest for me; rest comes when I sleep in the night. The motto here is ‘until you get money, no rest’. I only rest when I go for lunch since I don’t take breakfast.
Sometimes I don’t go home but sleep on the bare ground at the farmland when l have a lot to do. Some of us spend days and nights on the sites while using burning wood to scare away animals at night. The last time I saw my family was a year ago.
I am not at work today because I am not feeling good.
As we interacted further, many of his friends came around to contribute to our discussion. I realised that it was getting late and I had to be on my way home. But before leaving, I asked if I could take a picture of Abubakar and his friends who had just returned from work. It was then that I noticed Abubakar’s swollen feet and a sore on one of his toes.
‘I have been carrying this wound around for the past three months,’ he lamented. He remarked that he had no money to go to the Community Health Centre for treatment. It wasn’t part of my assignment, but I couldn’t just leave him the way I met him. I offered to pay for his treatment, which he accepted joyfully. We made our way slowly to the Health Centre, where he commenced treatment after the payment of his bill. I then headed home knowing that he was in safe hands.
The story of Abubakar reflects the lives of over 2 million artisanal miners in various mining communities in Nigeria. Interventions on health and safety issues will be the key to help save people like Abubakar from danger and untimely death.
