Faith Nyasuguta
Felicity Nelson, a 34-year-old activist, vividly recalls her harrowing 17-day detention in Ghana last September. She was one of 53 people arrested in Accra while protesting against illegal mining, locally known as “galamsey.” Held in a cell she likened to slave dungeons from the transatlantic trade era, Nelson was denied access to her asthma inhalers, relying on food brought by her family and friends to survive. The protest’s organizer, Oliver Barker-Vormawor, had been hospitalized, and even a visitor to him was among those detained.
Ghana, once a beacon of democracy under President Nana Akufo-Addo, now finds itself grappling with the consequences of galamsey—a practice with roots tracing back to colonial times. The term “galamsey,” derived from the phrase “gather them and sell,” refers to small-scale mining of alluvial gold.
This practice boomed after the 1989 legalization of artisanal mining and has since become a key source of livelihood amid rising unemployment. Today, galamsey accounts for over a third of Ghana’s annual gold output, making it the world’s sixth-largest gold producer. Yet, this informal industry costs the nation an estimated $2 billion annually in lost tax revenues.
The effects of galamsey are starkly visible across Ghana’s landscape. Deep craters and mounds of sand flank rural roads, and rivers, once pristine, have turned murky due to the soil and chemicals used in gold extraction. “You know the Offin [River]? It’s now like Milo,” remarked a community elder, comparing the river’s appearance to a chocolate beverage. This pollution has dire consequences: the Ghana Water Company has seen its capacity to provide clean water drop by 75%, and researchers warn the country may need to import water by 2030.
The impact extends to agriculture, particularly cocoa farming, which is Ghana’s second-largest export. Farmlands have been uprooted for mining, threatening the livelihoods of farmers. “We are losing our cocoa,” said Father Joseph Kwame Blay, a priest and researcher in Jema. He believes the allure of quick money from mining has blinded many to the long-term damage. In his community, vigilantes have been deployed to prevent galamsey activities.
Galamsey’s societal cost is also evident in education. Children leave school to work at mining sites or sell food to miners, leading to increased absenteeism. In one tragic incident, two students in the Central Region died after falling into an abandoned mining pit on their way home.
While galamsey attracts locals seeking fortune, it has also drawn an influx of foreigners, particularly Chinese nationals. These individuals often collaborate with local officials or recruit security forces to guard their operations. In Wassa Akropong, a galamsey hub, a thriving “Chinatown” has emerged, complete with Chinese-run machinery stores, clinics, casinos, and gold trading shops.
The involvement of foreign nationals is not without controversy. In December, a Chinese woman named Aisha Huang was sentenced to five years in prison for illegal mining. The judge expressed regret that the sentence couldn’t be harsher, noting Huang’s return to Ghana under a new identity after a prior deportation. The penalty for such offenses has since been increased to 25 years.
Corruption exacerbates the problem. Local administrators, including chiefs who control customary land, are accused of colluding with galamsey operators. In August, a prominent monarch stripped three chiefs of their titles for their complicity. Activist Felicity Nelson described the situation bluntly: “The firefighters are themselves the arsonists.” She accused politicians of benefiting financially from galamsey, with some of the proceeds allegedly funding elections.
President Akufo-Addo, who once vowed to “put my presidency on the line” to end galamsey, has faced criticism for failing to act decisively. His administration issued over 2,000 artisanal mining licenses between 2017 and 2021, amounting to 95% of all licenses issued since 1989. Many of these licenses have been linked to ruling party members.
In contrast, Akufo-Addo’s predecessor, John Mahama, expelled 45,000 Chinese nationals in 2013 after raiding illegal mining sites. Mahama has pledged to address galamsey if reelected, though Akufo-Addo accuses him of politicizing the issue.
Despite the challenges, many Ghanaians are determined to fight galamsey. In Atronsu, western Ghana, teacher-turned-activist Patrick Danso has refused bribes from Chinese intermediaries, insisting on protecting his cocoa farm for his children’s future. Meanwhile, communities like Jema have taken matters into their own hands by outlawing galamsey and organizing local patrols to keep diggers out.
Civil society groups are also stepping up. In September, a coalition led by Eco-Conscious Citizens sued the government over a 2022 law allowing mining in forest reserves. Labour unions had planned a national strike to demand the law’s repeal, but the protest was postponed after President Akufo-Addo promised to address the issue. Parliament is now debating the repeal process.
Nelson remains resolute, despite facing multiple charges in court. “If you’re trying to protect the future of your nation, it’s a worthwhile cause,” she said. “And Ghana is worth that sacrifice.”
The fight against galamsey is far from over. While the practice has brought wealth to some, it has come at a staggering cost to Ghana’s environment, economy, and society. The question now is whether the country’s leaders and citizens can unite to protect their land, water, and future generations from the devastating impact of illegal gold mining.
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