Tanzania's poor billionaires rue presence of gold deposits

By Mangoa Mosota

The place resembles a miniature industry. Everyone is busy, and it is difficult to be heard against the backdrop of noise from ongoing activities. There are 50 people engrossed in their work. Children, some less than 15-years-old, are here too; their faces ashen, but still able to smile. There are women too – both young and old.

Men are slightly more than the women, but with a keen eye, one notices that both sexes are only after the ultimate prize-gold.

Ntemi Mukubi, 46, one of the small-scale miners, smiles as he takes The Standard through his life in Nyamilama village, Bunda district.

He has been mining since he was a teenager.

"I have been mining for about 30 years. We drill several places in this region (Mara Province). As soon as we are through in one area, we move to another one," says Mukubi, of the region in the North Western part of Tanzania.

Gold Producers

Mukubi says there are several small-scale-miners in Mara. A few years ago, the Tanzania Government licensed foreign firms to mine, creating frequent collisions with locals.

Mining in this region is akin to that in Kakamega, which started before independence. The activity is not regulated, and as a result it is free-for-all, making Tanzania one of the fastest-emerging gold producers in Africa. It is now with reserves of the mineral estimated at about 1, 000 tonnes.

The country sits on 45 million ounce pot of gold, which has an economic value of $39 billion, but Tanzania remains one of ten poorest countries in the world.

Though U$2.5 billion in gold has been exported during the past five years, mostly by two multinationals, the Government only gets about $ 22 million per year.

Twelve of 38 million Tanzanians live on less than a dollar per day. Over the past ten years, following the 1998 Mining Act, Tanzania has experienced large-scale mining development.

Gold production has since increased from one-two tonnes per annum in 1998, to 50 tonnes, valued at $876 per ounce in 2008.

However, these developments have not benefited the people. The mining companies are accused of not paying corporate tax and remitting low royalty rates. The corporations remit royalty fee of only three per cent of the mineral output.

In Mara, the small-scale miners drill for several days before reaching the precious commodity. Mukubi says each machine costs about Tsh3 million (Sh158, 000). Margaret Thomas, one of the women working at the mine, is hesitant to talk to The Standard On Saturday, but after a while opens up.

"I have been working at the mines for the last ten years, and the money is not that bad," says Thomas, 38.

Mukubi reveals that he has three wives and 13 children. His major investment is a herd of 30 cattle.

The dark-skinned, six-feet tall man adds that his success has been largely been through mining, and not farming. A cravat, measuring the size of a razor blade costs about Tsh60, 000 (Sh3000), a pittance they receive from middlemen.

He reveals on some occasions they go for long periods; sometimes up to three months without finding any deposits of the mineral.

"This is a business of trial and error, and we have gotten used to disappointments and frustrations," he says, with of hint sadness.

Mukubi says he makes about Tsh200, 000 (Sh10, 000) per month, but adds that most miners lead a deplorable life. "Most of us can barely improve our livelihood despite many years of mining," he says.

Acute Poverty

The slums (vitongoji) dotting several areas bear witness to his statement.

A resident, who declined to be named, says less than 20 per cent of the miners benefit from the activity, while the rest wallow in poverty.

"A good number of the miners seek pleasure, immediately they sell the mineral. But others have started and built thriving businesses," he says. Mukabi concedes that despite the incessant mining, there is prevalent poverty.

Most of the children working at the mines have dropped out of school.

When The Standard On Saturday asks why the minors are not in school, the elderly miners insist all the children working with them have completed basic education, and are waiting to join secondary school.

However, with some prodding most of the children can barely speak in Kiswahili, the national language of Tanzania, which is widely spoken.

But even more alarming do the derelict land and several gapping holes pose the environmental degradation, often as a result of deep shafts hastily abandoned once the miners realise there is no gold in them.