Sunday, 21 June 2015

Kids Of Fortune: The Six-Year-Olds Who Dare Lead Poisoning In Nigeria's Gold Mines

Kids Of Fortune: The Six-Year-Olds Who Dare Lead Poisoning In Nigreria's Gold Mines


After spending a week in Niger State, northern Nigeria, ARUKAINO UMUKORO in this two-part series, writes about the kid miners in the state who risk their lives to earn a living and the grave dangers in the communities

It was a Saturday. On a day when children in big towns and cities go to recreational centres or play with their many toys, Isa Haruna and about 15 of his friends were toiling at one of the mining sites in Ungwan Kawo, Rafi Local Government Area of Niger State.

A typical day for the kid miners starts at 7am as they trudge to the mines for about two hours. Their hard labour ends by six in the evening.

Haruna usually works most days for about seven hours, scouring the brown earth of his village, looking for gold to fend for himself and help his poor parents who are farmers.

Haruna is six years old.

On this day, he and his friends scooped sand from selected portions and eagerly rushed to a brownish pool of water to wash the sand with the hope of finding gold.

They do these almost every day. Haruna was too busy to talk to our correspondent who approached him for an interview. He smiled shyly and continued to dig the soil as his friends boasted in Hausa language about how much they make from the mines daily.

Dasali Nura, 7, a primary one pupil in Shikira Central Primary School, the only school that serves three communities said, “I make N600 ($3) per day if I see a lot of gold in the soil but I think Haruna makes N200.”

Maryam Yusuf, 6, butted in with a beam, “Mine is N300.But I get more money if I see more gold in the ground.” The little girl returned to the soil, still with an excited face.

“I make about N300 daily and I use some of my money to buy clothes during Sallah or Christmas, but I want to get married. Mining gold is hard, but we don’t have a choice and I don’t want to beg,” 13-year-old Aure Musa said.



Child begging is common in northern Nigeria. Street children, known as almajiris, are a sad twist of tradition. The main idea behind almajiri, which comes from the Arabic word Al-muhajirin (meaning an emigrant), was for young children to have Quranic education in a traditional way outside their homes, and under the care of a mallam (Islamic teacher).

However, it has turned into a system for financial gains as the Islamic teachers send these children to beg on the streets and do other menial jobs. Almajiris are one of the most vulnerable set of children in Nigeria. They are exposed to mental, physical, and psychological traumas.

The North also has some of the highest rates of child marriage in the world, with girls as young as seven married off to older men who sometimes pay their parents or guardians a pittance to claim their ‘bride.’

This is despite Nigeria’s 2003 Child Rights Act, which puts the minimum age of marriage at 18 for girl.

Trapped in a loveless marriage, these young girls are denied education, right to life, and are mostly left to bear physical, emotional, and psychological trauma for the rest of their lives.

The parents of the kid miners painted a picture of helplessness and poverty.

30-year-old Ama Amadu’s child died as a child miner. She said, “I lost a child, Rukkaya, to lead poisoning from the mines. Our children won’t do this kind of job if there were better jobs to do. We are farmers and our children assist us by contributing to the income of the family.”


Similarly, 45-year-old Adamu Ibrahim, who has 14 children from two wives, said mining was the only thing his children knew how to do. “I cannot afford to send them to good schools in the cities. I have a lot of children and don’t have the money to take care of them. They are helping the family by going to the mines.”

The child miners have since accepted their fate of hard labour under harsh weather conditions. For one of the highest paid kid miner, 12-year-old Balalu Shuaibu, his daily wage of N800 comes as a result of his ‘experience.’

Dressed in a dirty jersey with the inscription, ‘Chelsea FC’, Shuaibu said, “I have been mining for gold since I was six years old. Sometimes, we have some businessmen that buy from us. At other times, it’s the elderly miners that we sell to. I use the money to help my poor parents and it goes a long way in meeting our family needs. Some people say we are too young but we don’t have a choice. If they stop us from mining because we are children, who will help our poor parents?”



There are over a thousand kid miners in Ungwan Kawo, Shikira,

Magiro, ward Kampani, and other communities in the area, noted Shuaibu Ubandaba, the team leader of the miners. Ubandaba, 37, has over 25 years’ experience as a miner and has kids who work for him.

“They come from over 20 villages to the sites. Some of them go to school and come to work on weekends (Saturday and Sunday), while those that don’t go to school work from Monday to Friday or every day,” he toldSUNDAY PUNCH.

Like a swarm of bees to honey, Ubandaba said the rainy season usually attracted more miners to the sites. “During rainy season, they are very many –young boys and girls, men and women –all come to mining sites digging for gold,” he said.

Madaka, a small town in Rafi LGA, is the closest to civilisation for the people in Ungwan Kawo and Shikira villages. Its residents have also not had electricity for years but some homes have generators. The town has a bigger primary and secondary school (compared to the only primary school at Shikira). It also has a bustling market square overlooking a hill, which comes alive on Thursdays, the market day.

Madaka to Kagara, another community in the local government, was a bumpy two-hour motorcycle ride on a rough terrain sandwiched by vast stretches of farmlands, small rivers, semi-barren lands, hills, and several villages.

The vast level of under-development in these areas left a telling trail: it felt like a trip back into medieval times. The visit of local health officials to the affected communities where lead poisoning killed both young miners, was the first of government’s attention in decades, noted the motorcycle rider, Kabiru.



Lead poisoning

After hours of spent scavenging for gold with their rudimentary mining tools – shovels, head pans, axes –the kids temporarily set aside their tools, sat down to rest and chatted animatedly.

Contained in dirty bowls, the kids’ lunch was cold chinge, a local delicacy of fried insects, as well as already hardened tuwo masara (corn flour dish), tuwo shinkafa (rice flour dish) and miyan tauche (pumpkin soup).

They spoke gleefully with our correspondent about what they dreamt to be in future. Some wanted to become doctors, lawyers, teachers, soldiers and policemen. Others just wanted to see the city lights. The closest they have seen is the flicker of light from battery-powered torchlight in their mud houses at night.

Their aspirations may end up being a pipe-dream as they are stuck in remote villages which have not had electricity since their existence. For them, it is a vicious cycle of birth, survival through hard work, marriage, and then death.

An unexpected silence fell on them, like the approaching sunset, when SUNDAY PUNCH asked them about the children who died from lead poisoning.

One of the child miners, Gimbia Ahmed, 15, said, “Some of our friends have died from the sickness (lead poisoning) but we pray for God’s protection. We cannot leave this job. It is hard; it is the only thing we know that fetches us money. We don’t want to beg like others. We want to make money to help our families.”

Buhari Daku, 13, who lost three siblings to lead poisoning, expressed similar thoughts.


In May this year, 28 children died from lead poisoning in Niger while 35 of them still lie critically ill in hospitals, according to the state’s Director of Public Health, Dr. Mohammed Usman.

It was not the first time lead poisoning would kill children and adults in search of various precious stones in Niger and its neighbouring states.

While speaking with SUNDAY PUNCH, Ralia Rabiu, who makes N700 a day, complained of frequent headache. The 10-year-old girl said her temperature usually rose after the day’s work.

Seated inside his mud home, Ralia’s father defended sending his little girl to dig for gold, saying, “I have no choice but to allow my children to mine gold. It brings money to the home. The money I get from farming is not enough. We need the money.”


Unsafe gold mining and ore processing are the main cause of lead poisoning, noted an environmental chemist and Deputy General Manager, Niger State Environmental Protection Agency, Usman Kolos.

He said high temperature as mentioned by Rabiu, was one of the symptoms of lead poisoning which is more severe in children, especially five-year- olds and below, because their brains and central nervous systems are in the developing stages.

Kolos said, “The symptoms of lead poisoning vary in children and adults. In children, lead exposure causes high temperature, vomiting and convulsion. They go into coma after which they die. When the body is exposed to lead through inhalation, swallowing or skin absorption in some cases, it could become poisonous.

“Once it gets into a person’s system; it can cause harm wherever it lands in the body. It damages red blood cells in the bloodstream, and limits their ability to carry oxygen to the organs and tissues that need it, thus causing anaemia. It also affects bones of children.”

A visit to any of the mining sites usually leaves one covered in dust. The sites look like scenes of gully erosion, or where heavy dynamites were dropped. The wide, deep trenches with some over 15-metre high, are products of human determination, aided by local tools.

The iron-rust, brown pools, where the gold ores are washed, had an unpleasant smell. Dust from the mines and processing sites often settles on nearby houses, farmlands and children. Sometimes, it travels farther up with the wind, where humans and animals inhale them.

Most of the miners come back home from the mining sites with their hands and tools unwashed. They also use the head pans used at the mine sites for domestic purposes.


Experts say the use of mining tools at home and inhalation of mine dust are ways lead get into the body systems.

“We were told that they sometimes wash gold with a chemical which we presume could be mercury, because mercury can easily form an amalgam with gold,” Kolos said.

Ubandaba showed our correspondent a nylon containing a chemical. But he did not know if it was mercury. “We use it to make the gold particles come together to form a single ball,” he said.

According to the United States Environmental Protection Agency, elemental mercury is used in artisanal and small-scale gold mining, where it “is mixed with gold-containing materials, forming a mercury-gold amalgam, which is then heated, vaporising the mercury to obtain the gold.”

Mercury attacks the central nervous system and can cause lifelong disability to children. The Niger EPA deputy general manager also noted that other effects of high level of exposure to lead on children include learning disability, stunted growth, impaired hearing and kidney damage. He added that lead could interfere with the reproductive system, cause impotency in men, and miscarriages in women.


In Madaka’s only clinic, where cases of lead were first reported, which caters for about 17 communities with over 17,000 people, adequate facilities are lacking. Seen in the hospitals were a broken down generator and an ill-equipped laboratory.

The only doctor in the clinic, Ibrahim Giwa, said, “In most cases, many of our patients, especially pregnant women, die on the road when we refer them to Kagara general hospital, about 30 died. The road is very bad. As a basic healthcare officer, I have learnt to manage.”

Giwa noted that the most common health challenges in the area are malaria, diarrhoea, and children urinating blood because of contaminated water.

In Shikira, Sani Ahmed, who is the only health personnel at the World Bank-funded health centre said hospitals in the local government are below standard.

“We only have paracetamol. There was no medicine when the lead poisoning happened,” Ahmed said.


According to Ubandaba, the death of the 28 children forced them to stop work at most of the mines in the last two months.

“We heard about the lead poisoning, but we have no choice. Government has not done anything for us. They should address this problem, as it has stopped us from mining and making money. 99 per cent of us here mine gold. We can’t go and steal, or go to elected officials to give us money.

“Big men can leave mining, but not these small children, because it is from the proceeds they buy clothes, uniforms, and other things their parents can’t buy it for them. Please tell government our problems are many. If one is lucky, one could just scratch gold after just a few metres of digging,” he said.

Sometimes they dig for about five to 10 metres deep or more to get gold. Artisanal and small-scale mining do not only take place in Nigeria, but in about 80 countries worldwide, especially in developing countries in Africa, Asia, Central and South America.


In a 2013 report, the World Bank estimated that “about 100 million people – workers and their families – depend on artisanal mining compared to about seven million people worldwide in industrial mining.”

After several hours on bike and on foot, our correspondent had counted at least 25 gold mining sites. Most of them looked like deep holes excavated by dynamites.

Mining is a hazardous job for adults, not to talk of children, noted Adamu Ibrahim, who said he had told three of his young children aged between six and 13 to stop working for now.

Employing children as labourers in mining has been described as one of the worst forms of child labour.


According to the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child, children “should be protected from work that is likely to be hazardous or harmful to the child’s health or physical, mental development.”

While the International Labour Organisation Convention, which is binding on Nigeria, “prohibits the worst forms of child labour, including work in an unhealthy environment that exposes children to hazardous substances.”

The village head in Magiro, octogenarian Nuhu Maigiro, said, mining has been going on in his community for over 100 years and that using children as labourers is an age-long tradition.

“We’ve been mining long before I was born. Every family has female, male and children all involved in this business.”

Magiro, who lost two grandchildren to lead poisoning, said a typical household has an average of 12 children.

Our correspondent saw health officials taking blood samples of children to test for lead poisoning in Magiro and Shikira. Some had to be forced or cajoled to partake in the exercise.

“The lead poisoning test of the initial batch of blood samples taken is still ongoing. That’s all I can tell you for now. We do not have definite results,” Usman told SUNDAY PUNCH.


However, Dr. Simba Tirima, Project Coordinator, Médecins Sans Frontières, Nigeria, who worked with a team to clean up communities in Zamfara State, where over 400 children died from lead poisoning in 2010, said Niger may be far worse than envisaged.

Tirima and his team have planned another inspection to the affected communities.

“We are widening our scopes to other villages. Clearly, the soil lead levels are very high, beyond what we have seen in many other places. It is a big problem. If they don’t cause permanent, irreversible damages in those kids, they would kill them. By next week, we would know how far this thing has gone,” he said.



Tough education

Apart from the health risks, kid miners are also faced with educational challenges. The headmasters at Shikira Primary School, Shikira, Central Primary School and the principal of Ahlmad Idris Day Secondary School –all in Madaka –said their pupils, who combine mining with schooling, have learning and concentration difficulty.

Shikira school, which has only three classrooms and lacks basic learning facilities, was built by the World Bank in 2008. Our correspondent could identify some of the kid miners he had earlier seen at some mining sites he visited. One of them, Balalu Shuaibu, was one of the few who could recognise a laptop.

Half of the school’s pupils are miners, said the headmaster, Mallam Abdullahi, who also doubles as the only teacher in the school. He teaches all the five classes –primary one to four, and six –five days in a week, for at least seven periods in total per day.

Despite his stressful schedules, Abdullahi earns N15,000 monthly (about $76 and less than the N18,000 minimum wage). He has five children and augments his meagre income by farming.

He said, “The kid miners have poor learning capabilities. When you teach them, they can’t remember. Their minds are away, only their body is present. Some of them leave their books in school, and go to the mines; that means they are not ready to learn. I have to spend extra time with them always. Our challenges here are many.”

Madaka school, with about 655 pupils (250 girls), and established in 1974, was the same. The primary six students could not understand most English words, until their teacher translated it into Hausa. The secondary school section, established in 2008, with over 800 pupils, was not any better, noted the principal, Siddique Aliu.

“Kid miners have poor concentration and seem not to be interested in schooling. Our major challenges are lack of teachers, adequate classrooms, teaching and learning materials, desks and chairs, and basic social amenities,” the headmaster of Central Primary School, Madaka, Abdulmalik Ibrahim, stated.

He also earns about N15, 000 monthly. The headmasters were not optimistic that the children in mining communities have a bright future.

“Until government does something about poverty, these children will continue to risk their lives on the mines for little sum. Some may die and others will continue living a hard life. A life devoid of meaning,” they said.



Culled From PUNCH

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