Felicity Nelson remembers her 17-day detention last September vividly. The 34-year-old Ghanaian activist was one of 53 people arrested at a road junction in Accra after demonstrating alongside hundreds of other youths against illegal mining.
In detention, the group found a 54th person in their midst who had not been at the protest but was apprehended after visiting Oliver Barker-Vormawor, the protest’s organiser in hospital.
Nelson, who is asthmatic, was denied access to inhalers in her cell, which she said reminded her of slave dungeons used during the transatlantic human trade. “No light, no air, just holes in the ceiling for ventilation,” said the activist, who relied on food brought by her family and friends while she was being held.
The west African state, led by Nana Akufo-Addo, a human rights lawyer, has long been seen as a beacon of democracy. However, activists and rights groups say civil freedoms are being eroded by authorities reluctant to tackle illegal mining, a practice that began before independence when the former British colony was still named the Gold Coast. The illegal mining is known as “galamsey”, a pidgin contraction of the phrase “gather them and sell”, in reference to the way in which artisans gather alluvial deposits dispersed by large-scale activity of mining corporations.
The practice exploded in two phases: first after a 1989 law formalised artisanal mining and then as unemployment rates rose because of a weakening economy in recent years. Today, galamsey accounts for more than a third of the annual gold output from Ghana, the world’s sixth largest gold producer. More than 1 million people are employed in the informal mining sector across 14 of its 16 regions, costing the state an estimated annual $2bn (£1.58bn) in missed tax revenues.
‘No longer a blessing but a curse’
These days, deep craters and huge piles of sand – evidence of illegal mining sites – flank miles of roads in the countryside, while ads for galamsey gold appear on TikTok.
The mining has had a negative impact on the cocoa industry, Ghana’s other major export commodity, because farmlands have been uprooted by galamseyers.
“We are putting all our eggs in one basket … we are losing our cocoa,” said Father Joseph Kwame Blay, a researcher and priest in Jema, a big cocoa community in central Ghana that outlawed galamsey and instituted vigilantes to keep diggers out. “It’s not just poverty, it’s shortsightedness. People just want money immediately.”
Activists say most of Ghana’s rivers have been muddied by soil washed off the gold, as well as mercury and detergent used in the washing process. The Ghana Water Company’s capacity to supply clean water to some parts of the country has been reduced by 75%. Researchers from the University of Cape Coast say Ghana may have to import water by 2030.
“You know the Offin [River]? It’s now like Milo,” one elder in the Dunkwa-on-Offin community said, referring to a popular west African chocolate beverage. “Gold is no longer a blessing but a curse.”
One teacher’s union has linked galamsey to a rise in pupil absenteeism, as children leave school to either mine or sell food by mining sites – a bad omen in Ghana, where one in five children are already not in education. Even those in school are at risk: in March, two students fell into an abandoned pit in the Central region on their way home.
Meanwhile, prospectors and sex workers continue to converge in Ghana from across west Africa, in search of fortunes. There has also been an influx of Chinese nationals, some of whom have recruited soldiers and policemen to guard their sites during mining operations.
Last December, as an Accra court convicted a Chinese woman called Aisha Huang for illegal mining, the judge expressed regret that she could not hand out more than the then maximum five-year penalty to the defendant, who had previously been deported for the same crime.
“She came back with a new personality, different name and date of birth and carried on her illegal activities with impunity,” the judge said. The penalty has since been revised to 25 years’ imprisonment.
Ghana’s ‘Chinatown’
The curious case of Wassa Akropong, a galamsey hotspot in western Ghana, offers a glimpse into the ecosystem: hundreds of Chinese people have established machinery stores, casinos, clinics, pubs and restaurants. Less than a kilometre from the town’s police station is China Market, a mall with, among other things, gold trading shops and pedicure shops. Unsurprisingly, the town is now known as “Chinatown”.
Several local miners said the gold rush had been accelerated by a gamechanging Chinese technology: the Changfan, a multipurpose machine that allows exploration in the riverbeds. In August 2022, soldiers burned 838 Changfans.
“We are pussyfooting around the issue,” Nelson said after dozens more were destroyed in October, accusing the government of playing “PR games” rather than rooting out the issue.
After winning his first four-year term, Akufo-Addo said he was prepared to “put my presidency on the line” to end galamsey. As he prepares to exit office, many say his government has failed to act because it is scared of losing votes in the forthcoming election in districts where the electorate are perpetrators.
More than 2,000 artisanal mining licences were issued between 2017 and 2021 according to data from the Ghana Mining Repository, amounting to 95% of all licences handed out between 1989 and then. Some of the licences have been linked to ruling party members.
“I don’t know anything about such reports,” said Haruna Mohammed, the party’s deputy general secretary.
“The firefighters are themselves the arsonists,” said Awula Serwah, the Accra-based coordinator of Eco-Conscious Citizens, an environmental nonprofit. “Some of this galamsey money is used for [funding] elections.”
“Even those [Ghanaians] who have licences have a company and then they give the work to Chinese nationals or non-Ghanians,” she added.
The spotlight has also been beamed on local administrators including traditional rulers. As owners of customary land in Ghana, they have the power to allocate freely and have been accused of being willing collaborators in galamsey. In August, a prominent monarch stripped three of his chiefs of their titles for being complicit in the practice.
“This is gold business, it’s making the [chiefs and politicians] a lot of money,” said Nelson. “We’re talking thousands and thousands of dollars.”
Akufo-Addo’s predecessor John Mahama, whose government expelled 45,000 Chinese nationals in 2013 after raiding galamsey sites, has said he would tackle the practice if he won the presidential election this December. The incumbent has accused his rival of politicising the issue, saying the latter once promised amnesty for perpetrators.
The fight goes on
Despite the complexity of challenges, more local people say they are determined to save their country.
Patrick Danso, a teacher turned activist in Atronsu in western Ghana, says Chinese intermediaries tried to bribe him in August to stop his activism. The father of five says he refused as he has a responsibility to “secure the future for his kids” and protect his cocoa farm – “his pension”.
In September, a civil society coalition including Serwah’s Eco-Conscious Citizens sued the government for declassifying part of the Achimota Forest – known as “the lungs of Accra” – in a 2022 law.
Labour unions had called for a national strike in October to force a repeal of the law but the plan was shelved after Akufo-Addo promised to rescind the law and parliament began a debate about the process.
Some say they are ready to protest again, even though 11 of those detained in September have been imprisoned.
“If you’re trying to protect the future of your nation, it’s a worthwhile cause,” said Nelson, who still faces multiple charges in court including unlawful assembly. “And Ghana is worth that sacrifice.”
