In January, over 200 people were reported killed after a collapse at the Rubaya coltan mining area in eastern Democratic Republic of Congo. In March, another collapse in the same mineral-rich area killed more than 200 people, including about 70 children, according to Congolese authorities. Heavy rainfall was reported as a trigger.Then, in August, the Central African Republic suffered another devastating reminder of the human cost of artisanal mining. More than 100 people were killed when an artisanal gold mine at Zamboye, near the Cameroon border, collapsed. Several tunnels reportedly gave way, triggering a landslide. Rescue workers struggled with inadequate equipment and expertise, while continuing rains made the rescue operation even more dangerous.To me, these are not simply stories from two troubled Central African countries. They are a warning to Nigeria – and Nigeria should listen. They are lessons that mineral wealth without safety, regulation, and accountability can become a curse.With a renewed surge in mining activities and climate change-induced heavy rainfall in our mineral-rich country, there is every tendency for prospectors and miners to go the way of malpractice, which makes mining sites vulnerable to ecological hazards – especially when the government does not tighten the regulatory noose. Indeed, Nigeria must choose a mining revolution that produces wealth without producing graves. There is something profoundly wrong with an economy in which a man enters the earth in search of wealth and the earth becomes his grave.From Zamfara to Plateau, from Nasarawa to Ebonyi, the same ingredients are increasingly visible: artisanal mining, unsafe pits, weak enforcement, inadequate geological information, environmental degradation, poverty, poor emergency response and a growing appetite for critical minerals.Nigeria wants a mining revolution. Fine. But what kind of revolution are we building? One that produces lithium, gold, zinc, other minerals, plus dead miners? Or one that produces minerals and keeps the miners alive? That is the question. The tragedy at Rubaya should worry every Nigerian policymaker. Coltan is not a useless rock. It contains tantalum, a strategic mineral used in electronics and other high-value technologies. The mineral is therefore connected to the global technology economy.But look at the paradox. The modern world demands sophisticated electronics. Yet the African worker extracting some of the minerals required for that technology may be working inside a hand-dug tunnel without adequate structural support. This is the dark underside of the global critical-minerals race. The world wants Africa’s minerals. But who is protecting the African miner?Rubaya is particularly instructive because mining there occurs in a conflict-affected environment. The M23 rebel group has controlled the mines, and mineral extraction has become intertwined with the conflict’s political economy. Reports describe poorly constructed, interconnected tunnels, with large numbers of workers operating in the same mining environment. This means that a mining disaster can become something larger than an industrial accident. It becomes a governance failure; security failure, and a humanitarian crisis. And sometimes, it becomes an environmental disaster.We have our own. In September 2025, a mining pit collapsed in Kadauri, Maru Local Government Area of Zamfara State. The Federal Government said 13 people were confirmed dead, and two others were missing, while the collapse was attributed to heavy rainfall and illegal mining practices. The tragedy was even more disturbing because casualty figures initially varied dramatically.Eyewitnesses toldThe PUNCHthat more than 100 miners might have been involved, while the official figure was substantially lower. That discrepancy itself tells us something. Nigeria does not always know how many people are inside its mines. And if the government does not know who is underground, how can it guarantee their safety? How can it plan a rescue? How can it compensate families? How can it enforce labour standards? How can it even calculate the true human cost of the mining economy?If Zamfara teaches us about unstable pits, Plateau teaches us another lesson. Mining disasters do not always announce themselves with a landslide. In February 2026, toxic gas exposure at a mining site in Kampani Zurak, Wase Local Government Area, Plateau State, killed dozens of miners. The PUNCH reported that 37 miners died, with others hospitalised. This is perhaps one of Nigeria’s most important lessons. Mining safety is not synonymous with preventing pit collapse. There are invisible killers underground – carbon monoxide, methane and other gases; oxygen deficiency; silica dust; chemical exposure; flooding; heat; and poor ventilation. A miner may enter a pit that looks perfectly stable and never come out because the air itself has become poisonous.And there was Ebonyi, a South-East state, telling us that the problem is not confined to northern Nigeria. In February 2026, three miners were reported killed when a mining pit collapsed in Ebonyi State, with others injured. This is significant because Ebonyi is one of Nigeria’s historic mining territories, particularly associated with lead-zinc deposits.Related NewsNigeria, Niger Customs seek stronger Kamba border tradeOB3 pipeline ready for first gas, AKK hits 95% – NNPCOver 300 women benefit from Edo micro-business grantsImportantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. Then, in August, the Central African Republic suffered another devastating reminder of the human cost of artisanal mining. More than 100 people were killed when an artisanal gold mine at Zamboye, near the Cameroon border, collapsed. Several tunnels reportedly gave way, triggering a landslide. Rescue workers struggled with inadequate equipment and expertise, while continuing rains made the rescue operation even more dangerous.To me, these are not simply stories from two troubled Central African countries. They are a warning to Nigeria – and Nigeria should listen. They are lessons that mineral wealth without safety, regulation, and accountability can become a curse.With a renewed surge in mining activities and climate change-induced heavy rainfall in our mineral-rich country, there is every tendency for prospectors and miners to go the way of malpractice, which makes mining sites vulnerable to ecological hazards – especially when the government does not tighten the regulatory noose. Indeed, Nigeria must choose a mining revolution that produces wealth without producing graves. There is something profoundly wrong with an economy in which a man enters the earth in search of wealth and the earth becomes his grave.From Zamfara to Plateau, from Nasarawa to Ebonyi, the same ingredients are increasingly visible: artisanal mining, unsafe pits, weak enforcement, inadequate geological information, environmental degradation, poverty, poor emergency response and a growing appetite for critical minerals.Nigeria wants a mining revolution. Fine. But what kind of revolution are we building? One that produces lithium, gold, zinc, other minerals, plus dead miners? Or one that produces minerals and keeps the miners alive? That is the question. The tragedy at Rubaya should worry every Nigerian policymaker. Coltan is not a useless rock. It contains tantalum, a strategic mineral used in electronics and other high-value technologies. The mineral is therefore connected to the global technology economy.But look at the paradox. The modern world demands sophisticated electronics. Yet the African worker extracting some of the minerals required for that technology may be working inside a hand-dug tunnel without adequate structural support. This is the dark underside of the global critical-minerals race. The world wants Africa’s minerals. But who is protecting the African miner?Rubaya is particularly instructive because mining there occurs in a conflict-affected environment. The M23 rebel group has controlled the mines, and mineral extraction has become intertwined with the conflict’s political economy. Reports describe poorly constructed, interconnected tunnels, with large numbers of workers operating in the same mining environment. This means that a mining disaster can become something larger than an industrial accident. It becomes a governance failure; security failure, and a humanitarian crisis. And sometimes, it becomes an environmental disaster.We have our own. In September 2025, a mining pit collapsed in Kadauri, Maru Local Government Area of Zamfara State. The Federal Government said 13 people were confirmed dead, and two others were missing, while the collapse was attributed to heavy rainfall and illegal mining practices. The tragedy was even more disturbing because casualty figures initially varied dramatically.Eyewitnesses toldThe PUNCHthat more than 100 miners might have been involved, while the official figure was substantially lower. That discrepancy itself tells us something. Nigeria does not always know how many people are inside its mines. And if the government does not know who is underground, how can it guarantee their safety? How can it plan a rescue? How can it compensate families? How can it enforce labour standards? How can it even calculate the true human cost of the mining economy?If Zamfara teaches us about unstable pits, Plateau teaches us another lesson. Mining disasters do not always announce themselves with a landslide. In February 2026, toxic gas exposure at a mining site in Kampani Zurak, Wase Local Government Area, Plateau State, killed dozens of miners. The PUNCH reported that 37 miners died, with others hospitalised. This is perhaps one of Nigeria’s most important lessons. Mining safety is not synonymous with preventing pit collapse. There are invisible killers underground – carbon monoxide, methane and other gases; oxygen deficiency; silica dust; chemical exposure; flooding; heat; and poor ventilation. A miner may enter a pit that looks perfectly stable and never come out because the air itself has become poisonous.And there was Ebonyi, a South-East state, telling us that the problem is not confined to northern Nigeria. In February 2026, three miners were reported killed when a mining pit collapsed in Ebonyi State, with others injured. This is significant because Ebonyi is one of Nigeria’s historic mining territories, particularly associated with lead-zinc deposits.Related NewsNigeria, Niger Customs seek stronger Kamba border tradeOB3 pipeline ready for first gas, AKK hits 95% – NNPCOver 300 women benefit from Edo micro-business grantsImportantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. To me, these are not simply stories from two troubled Central African countries. They are a warning to Nigeria – and Nigeria should listen. They are lessons that mineral wealth without safety, regulation, and accountability can become a curse.With a renewed surge in mining activities and climate change-induced heavy rainfall in our mineral-rich country, there is every tendency for prospectors and miners to go the way of malpractice, which makes mining sites vulnerable to ecological hazards – especially when the government does not tighten the regulatory noose. Indeed, Nigeria must choose a mining revolution that produces wealth without producing graves. There is something profoundly wrong with an economy in which a man enters the earth in search of wealth and the earth becomes his grave.From Zamfara to Plateau, from Nasarawa to Ebonyi, the same ingredients are increasingly visible: artisanal mining, unsafe pits, weak enforcement, inadequate geological information, environmental degradation, poverty, poor emergency response and a growing appetite for critical minerals.Nigeria wants a mining revolution. Fine. But what kind of revolution are we building? One that produces lithium, gold, zinc, other minerals, plus dead miners? Or one that produces minerals and keeps the miners alive? That is the question. The tragedy at Rubaya should worry every Nigerian policymaker. Coltan is not a useless rock. It contains tantalum, a strategic mineral used in electronics and other high-value technologies. The mineral is therefore connected to the global technology economy.But look at the paradox. The modern world demands sophisticated electronics. Yet the African worker extracting some of the minerals required for that technology may be working inside a hand-dug tunnel without adequate structural support. This is the dark underside of the global critical-minerals race. The world wants Africa’s minerals. But who is protecting the African miner?Rubaya is particularly instructive because mining there occurs in a conflict-affected environment. The M23 rebel group has controlled the mines, and mineral extraction has become intertwined with the conflict’s political economy. Reports describe poorly constructed, interconnected tunnels, with large numbers of workers operating in the same mining environment. This means that a mining disaster can become something larger than an industrial accident. It becomes a governance failure; security failure, and a humanitarian crisis. And sometimes, it becomes an environmental disaster.We have our own. In September 2025, a mining pit collapsed in Kadauri, Maru Local Government Area of Zamfara State. The Federal Government said 13 people were confirmed dead, and two others were missing, while the collapse was attributed to heavy rainfall and illegal mining practices. The tragedy was even more disturbing because casualty figures initially varied dramatically.Eyewitnesses toldThe PUNCHthat more than 100 miners might have been involved, while the official figure was substantially lower. That discrepancy itself tells us something. Nigeria does not always know how many people are inside its mines. And if the government does not know who is underground, how can it guarantee their safety? How can it plan a rescue? How can it compensate families? How can it enforce labour standards? How can it even calculate the true human cost of the mining economy?If Zamfara teaches us about unstable pits, Plateau teaches us another lesson. Mining disasters do not always announce themselves with a landslide. In February 2026, toxic gas exposure at a mining site in Kampani Zurak, Wase Local Government Area, Plateau State, killed dozens of miners. The PUNCH reported that 37 miners died, with others hospitalised. This is perhaps one of Nigeria’s most important lessons. Mining safety is not synonymous with preventing pit collapse. There are invisible killers underground – carbon monoxide, methane and other gases; oxygen deficiency; silica dust; chemical exposure; flooding; heat; and poor ventilation. A miner may enter a pit that looks perfectly stable and never come out because the air itself has become poisonous.And there was Ebonyi, a South-East state, telling us that the problem is not confined to northern Nigeria. In February 2026, three miners were reported killed when a mining pit collapsed in Ebonyi State, with others injured. This is significant because Ebonyi is one of Nigeria’s historic mining territories, particularly associated with lead-zinc deposits.Related NewsNigeria, Niger Customs seek stronger Kamba border tradeOB3 pipeline ready for first gas, AKK hits 95% – NNPCOver 300 women benefit from Edo micro-business grantsImportantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. With a renewed surge in mining activities and climate change-induced heavy rainfall in our mineral-rich country, there is every tendency for prospectors and miners to go the way of malpractice, which makes mining sites vulnerable to ecological hazards – especially when the government does not tighten the regulatory noose. Indeed, Nigeria must choose a mining revolution that produces wealth without producing graves. There is something profoundly wrong with an economy in which a man enters the earth in search of wealth and the earth becomes his grave.From Zamfara to Plateau, from Nasarawa to Ebonyi, the same ingredients are increasingly visible: artisanal mining, unsafe pits, weak enforcement, inadequate geological information, environmental degradation, poverty, poor emergency response and a growing appetite for critical minerals.Nigeria wants a mining revolution. Fine. But what kind of revolution are we building? One that produces lithium, gold, zinc, other minerals, plus dead miners? Or one that produces minerals and keeps the miners alive? That is the question. The tragedy at Rubaya should worry every Nigerian policymaker. Coltan is not a useless rock. It contains tantalum, a strategic mineral used in electronics and other high-value technologies. The mineral is therefore connected to the global technology economy.But look at the paradox. The modern world demands sophisticated electronics. Yet the African worker extracting some of the minerals required for that technology may be working inside a hand-dug tunnel without adequate structural support. This is the dark underside of the global critical-minerals race. The world wants Africa’s minerals. But who is protecting the African miner?Rubaya is particularly instructive because mining there occurs in a conflict-affected environment. The M23 rebel group has controlled the mines, and mineral extraction has become intertwined with the conflict’s political economy. Reports describe poorly constructed, interconnected tunnels, with large numbers of workers operating in the same mining environment. This means that a mining disaster can become something larger than an industrial accident. It becomes a governance failure; security failure, and a humanitarian crisis. And sometimes, it becomes an environmental disaster.We have our own. In September 2025, a mining pit collapsed in Kadauri, Maru Local Government Area of Zamfara State. The Federal Government said 13 people were confirmed dead, and two others were missing, while the collapse was attributed to heavy rainfall and illegal mining practices. The tragedy was even more disturbing because casualty figures initially varied dramatically.Eyewitnesses toldThe PUNCHthat more than 100 miners might have been involved, while the official figure was substantially lower. That discrepancy itself tells us something. Nigeria does not always know how many people are inside its mines. And if the government does not know who is underground, how can it guarantee their safety? How can it plan a rescue? How can it compensate families? How can it enforce labour standards? How can it even calculate the true human cost of the mining economy?If Zamfara teaches us about unstable pits, Plateau teaches us another lesson. Mining disasters do not always announce themselves with a landslide. In February 2026, toxic gas exposure at a mining site in Kampani Zurak, Wase Local Government Area, Plateau State, killed dozens of miners. The PUNCH reported that 37 miners died, with others hospitalised. This is perhaps one of Nigeria’s most important lessons. Mining safety is not synonymous with preventing pit collapse. There are invisible killers underground – carbon monoxide, methane and other gases; oxygen deficiency; silica dust; chemical exposure; flooding; heat; and poor ventilation. A miner may enter a pit that looks perfectly stable and never come out because the air itself has become poisonous.And there was Ebonyi, a South-East state, telling us that the problem is not confined to northern Nigeria. In February 2026, three miners were reported killed when a mining pit collapsed in Ebonyi State, with others injured. This is significant because Ebonyi is one of Nigeria’s historic mining territories, particularly associated with lead-zinc deposits.Related NewsNigeria, Niger Customs seek stronger Kamba border tradeOB3 pipeline ready for first gas, AKK hits 95% – NNPCOver 300 women benefit from Edo micro-business grantsImportantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. From Zamfara to Plateau, from Nasarawa to Ebonyi, the same ingredients are increasingly visible: artisanal mining, unsafe pits, weak enforcement, inadequate geological information, environmental degradation, poverty, poor emergency response and a growing appetite for critical minerals.Nigeria wants a mining revolution. Fine. But what kind of revolution are we building? One that produces lithium, gold, zinc, other minerals, plus dead miners? Or one that produces minerals and keeps the miners alive? That is the question. The tragedy at Rubaya should worry every Nigerian policymaker. Coltan is not a useless rock. It contains tantalum, a strategic mineral used in electronics and other high-value technologies. The mineral is therefore connected to the global technology economy.But look at the paradox. The modern world demands sophisticated electronics. Yet the African worker extracting some of the minerals required for that technology may be working inside a hand-dug tunnel without adequate structural support. This is the dark underside of the global critical-minerals race. The world wants Africa’s minerals. But who is protecting the African miner?Rubaya is particularly instructive because mining there occurs in a conflict-affected environment. The M23 rebel group has controlled the mines, and mineral extraction has become intertwined with the conflict’s political economy. Reports describe poorly constructed, interconnected tunnels, with large numbers of workers operating in the same mining environment. This means that a mining disaster can become something larger than an industrial accident. It becomes a governance failure; security failure, and a humanitarian crisis. And sometimes, it becomes an environmental disaster.We have our own. In September 2025, a mining pit collapsed in Kadauri, Maru Local Government Area of Zamfara State. The Federal Government said 13 people were confirmed dead, and two others were missing, while the collapse was attributed to heavy rainfall and illegal mining practices. The tragedy was even more disturbing because casualty figures initially varied dramatically.Eyewitnesses toldThe PUNCHthat more than 100 miners might have been involved, while the official figure was substantially lower. That discrepancy itself tells us something. Nigeria does not always know how many people are inside its mines. And if the government does not know who is underground, how can it guarantee their safety? How can it plan a rescue? How can it compensate families? How can it enforce labour standards? How can it even calculate the true human cost of the mining economy?If Zamfara teaches us about unstable pits, Plateau teaches us another lesson. Mining disasters do not always announce themselves with a landslide. In February 2026, toxic gas exposure at a mining site in Kampani Zurak, Wase Local Government Area, Plateau State, killed dozens of miners. The PUNCH reported that 37 miners died, with others hospitalised. This is perhaps one of Nigeria’s most important lessons. Mining safety is not synonymous with preventing pit collapse. There are invisible killers underground – carbon monoxide, methane and other gases; oxygen deficiency; silica dust; chemical exposure; flooding; heat; and poor ventilation. A miner may enter a pit that looks perfectly stable and never come out because the air itself has become poisonous.And there was Ebonyi, a South-East state, telling us that the problem is not confined to northern Nigeria. In February 2026, three miners were reported killed when a mining pit collapsed in Ebonyi State, with others injured. This is significant because Ebonyi is one of Nigeria’s historic mining territories, particularly associated with lead-zinc deposits.Related NewsNigeria, Niger Customs seek stronger Kamba border tradeOB3 pipeline ready for first gas, AKK hits 95% – NNPCOver 300 women benefit from Edo micro-business grantsImportantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. Nigeria wants a mining revolution. Fine. But what kind of revolution are we building? One that produces lithium, gold, zinc, other minerals, plus dead miners? Or one that produces minerals and keeps the miners alive? That is the question. The tragedy at Rubaya should worry every Nigerian policymaker. Coltan is not a useless rock. It contains tantalum, a strategic mineral used in electronics and other high-value technologies. The mineral is therefore connected to the global technology economy.But look at the paradox. The modern world demands sophisticated electronics. Yet the African worker extracting some of the minerals required for that technology may be working inside a hand-dug tunnel without adequate structural support. This is the dark underside of the global critical-minerals race. The world wants Africa’s minerals. But who is protecting the African miner?Rubaya is particularly instructive because mining there occurs in a conflict-affected environment. The M23 rebel group has controlled the mines, and mineral extraction has become intertwined with the conflict’s political economy. Reports describe poorly constructed, interconnected tunnels, with large numbers of workers operating in the same mining environment. This means that a mining disaster can become something larger than an industrial accident. It becomes a governance failure; security failure, and a humanitarian crisis. And sometimes, it becomes an environmental disaster.We have our own. In September 2025, a mining pit collapsed in Kadauri, Maru Local Government Area of Zamfara State. The Federal Government said 13 people were confirmed dead, and two others were missing, while the collapse was attributed to heavy rainfall and illegal mining practices. The tragedy was even more disturbing because casualty figures initially varied dramatically.Eyewitnesses toldThe PUNCHthat more than 100 miners might have been involved, while the official figure was substantially lower. That discrepancy itself tells us something. Nigeria does not always know how many people are inside its mines. And if the government does not know who is underground, how can it guarantee their safety? How can it plan a rescue? How can it compensate families? How can it enforce labour standards? How can it even calculate the true human cost of the mining economy?If Zamfara teaches us about unstable pits, Plateau teaches us another lesson. Mining disasters do not always announce themselves with a landslide. In February 2026, toxic gas exposure at a mining site in Kampani Zurak, Wase Local Government Area, Plateau State, killed dozens of miners. The PUNCH reported that 37 miners died, with others hospitalised. This is perhaps one of Nigeria’s most important lessons. Mining safety is not synonymous with preventing pit collapse. There are invisible killers underground – carbon monoxide, methane and other gases; oxygen deficiency; silica dust; chemical exposure; flooding; heat; and poor ventilation. A miner may enter a pit that looks perfectly stable and never come out because the air itself has become poisonous.And there was Ebonyi, a South-East state, telling us that the problem is not confined to northern Nigeria. In February 2026, three miners were reported killed when a mining pit collapsed in Ebonyi State, with others injured. This is significant because Ebonyi is one of Nigeria’s historic mining territories, particularly associated with lead-zinc deposits.Related NewsNigeria, Niger Customs seek stronger Kamba border tradeOB3 pipeline ready for first gas, AKK hits 95% – NNPCOver 300 women benefit from Edo micro-business grantsImportantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. But look at the paradox. The modern world demands sophisticated electronics. Yet the African worker extracting some of the minerals required for that technology may be working inside a hand-dug tunnel without adequate structural support. This is the dark underside of the global critical-minerals race. The world wants Africa’s minerals. But who is protecting the African miner?Rubaya is particularly instructive because mining there occurs in a conflict-affected environment. The M23 rebel group has controlled the mines, and mineral extraction has become intertwined with the conflict’s political economy. Reports describe poorly constructed, interconnected tunnels, with large numbers of workers operating in the same mining environment. This means that a mining disaster can become something larger than an industrial accident. It becomes a governance failure; security failure, and a humanitarian crisis. And sometimes, it becomes an environmental disaster.We have our own. In September 2025, a mining pit collapsed in Kadauri, Maru Local Government Area of Zamfara State. The Federal Government said 13 people were confirmed dead, and two others were missing, while the collapse was attributed to heavy rainfall and illegal mining practices. The tragedy was even more disturbing because casualty figures initially varied dramatically.Eyewitnesses toldThe PUNCHthat more than 100 miners might have been involved, while the official figure was substantially lower. That discrepancy itself tells us something. Nigeria does not always know how many people are inside its mines. And if the government does not know who is underground, how can it guarantee their safety? How can it plan a rescue? How can it compensate families? How can it enforce labour standards? How can it even calculate the true human cost of the mining economy?If Zamfara teaches us about unstable pits, Plateau teaches us another lesson. Mining disasters do not always announce themselves with a landslide. In February 2026, toxic gas exposure at a mining site in Kampani Zurak, Wase Local Government Area, Plateau State, killed dozens of miners. The PUNCH reported that 37 miners died, with others hospitalised. This is perhaps one of Nigeria’s most important lessons. Mining safety is not synonymous with preventing pit collapse. There are invisible killers underground – carbon monoxide, methane and other gases; oxygen deficiency; silica dust; chemical exposure; flooding; heat; and poor ventilation. A miner may enter a pit that looks perfectly stable and never come out because the air itself has become poisonous.And there was Ebonyi, a South-East state, telling us that the problem is not confined to northern Nigeria. In February 2026, three miners were reported killed when a mining pit collapsed in Ebonyi State, with others injured. This is significant because Ebonyi is one of Nigeria’s historic mining territories, particularly associated with lead-zinc deposits.Related NewsNigeria, Niger Customs seek stronger Kamba border tradeOB3 pipeline ready for first gas, AKK hits 95% – NNPCOver 300 women benefit from Edo micro-business grantsImportantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. Rubaya is particularly instructive because mining there occurs in a conflict-affected environment. The M23 rebel group has controlled the mines, and mineral extraction has become intertwined with the conflict’s political economy. Reports describe poorly constructed, interconnected tunnels, with large numbers of workers operating in the same mining environment. This means that a mining disaster can become something larger than an industrial accident. It becomes a governance failure; security failure, and a humanitarian crisis. And sometimes, it becomes an environmental disaster.We have our own. In September 2025, a mining pit collapsed in Kadauri, Maru Local Government Area of Zamfara State. The Federal Government said 13 people were confirmed dead, and two others were missing, while the collapse was attributed to heavy rainfall and illegal mining practices. The tragedy was even more disturbing because casualty figures initially varied dramatically.Eyewitnesses toldThe PUNCHthat more than 100 miners might have been involved, while the official figure was substantially lower. That discrepancy itself tells us something. Nigeria does not always know how many people are inside its mines. And if the government does not know who is underground, how can it guarantee their safety? How can it plan a rescue? How can it compensate families? How can it enforce labour standards? How can it even calculate the true human cost of the mining economy?If Zamfara teaches us about unstable pits, Plateau teaches us another lesson. Mining disasters do not always announce themselves with a landslide. In February 2026, toxic gas exposure at a mining site in Kampani Zurak, Wase Local Government Area, Plateau State, killed dozens of miners. The PUNCH reported that 37 miners died, with others hospitalised. This is perhaps one of Nigeria’s most important lessons. Mining safety is not synonymous with preventing pit collapse. There are invisible killers underground – carbon monoxide, methane and other gases; oxygen deficiency; silica dust; chemical exposure; flooding; heat; and poor ventilation. A miner may enter a pit that looks perfectly stable and never come out because the air itself has become poisonous.And there was Ebonyi, a South-East state, telling us that the problem is not confined to northern Nigeria. In February 2026, three miners were reported killed when a mining pit collapsed in Ebonyi State, with others injured. This is significant because Ebonyi is one of Nigeria’s historic mining territories, particularly associated with lead-zinc deposits.Related NewsNigeria, Niger Customs seek stronger Kamba border tradeOB3 pipeline ready for first gas, AKK hits 95% – NNPCOver 300 women benefit from Edo micro-business grantsImportantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. We have our own. In September 2025, a mining pit collapsed in Kadauri, Maru Local Government Area of Zamfara State. The Federal Government said 13 people were confirmed dead, and two others were missing, while the collapse was attributed to heavy rainfall and illegal mining practices. The tragedy was even more disturbing because casualty figures initially varied dramatically.Eyewitnesses toldThe PUNCHthat more than 100 miners might have been involved, while the official figure was substantially lower. That discrepancy itself tells us something. Nigeria does not always know how many people are inside its mines. And if the government does not know who is underground, how can it guarantee their safety? How can it plan a rescue? How can it compensate families? How can it enforce labour standards? How can it even calculate the true human cost of the mining economy?If Zamfara teaches us about unstable pits, Plateau teaches us another lesson. Mining disasters do not always announce themselves with a landslide. In February 2026, toxic gas exposure at a mining site in Kampani Zurak, Wase Local Government Area, Plateau State, killed dozens of miners. The PUNCH reported that 37 miners died, with others hospitalised. This is perhaps one of Nigeria’s most important lessons. Mining safety is not synonymous with preventing pit collapse. There are invisible killers underground – carbon monoxide, methane and other gases; oxygen deficiency; silica dust; chemical exposure; flooding; heat; and poor ventilation. A miner may enter a pit that looks perfectly stable and never come out because the air itself has become poisonous.And there was Ebonyi, a South-East state, telling us that the problem is not confined to northern Nigeria. In February 2026, three miners were reported killed when a mining pit collapsed in Ebonyi State, with others injured. This is significant because Ebonyi is one of Nigeria’s historic mining territories, particularly associated with lead-zinc deposits.Related NewsNigeria, Niger Customs seek stronger Kamba border tradeOB3 pipeline ready for first gas, AKK hits 95% – NNPCOver 300 women benefit from Edo micro-business grantsImportantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. Eyewitnesses toldThe PUNCHthat more than 100 miners might have been involved, while the official figure was substantially lower. That discrepancy itself tells us something. Nigeria does not always know how many people are inside its mines. And if the government does not know who is underground, how can it guarantee their safety? How can it plan a rescue? How can it compensate families? How can it enforce labour standards? How can it even calculate the true human cost of the mining economy?If Zamfara teaches us about unstable pits, Plateau teaches us another lesson. Mining disasters do not always announce themselves with a landslide. In February 2026, toxic gas exposure at a mining site in Kampani Zurak, Wase Local Government Area, Plateau State, killed dozens of miners. The PUNCH reported that 37 miners died, with others hospitalised. This is perhaps one of Nigeria’s most important lessons. Mining safety is not synonymous with preventing pit collapse. There are invisible killers underground – carbon monoxide, methane and other gases; oxygen deficiency; silica dust; chemical exposure; flooding; heat; and poor ventilation. A miner may enter a pit that looks perfectly stable and never come out because the air itself has become poisonous.And there was Ebonyi, a South-East state, telling us that the problem is not confined to northern Nigeria. In February 2026, three miners were reported killed when a mining pit collapsed in Ebonyi State, with others injured. This is significant because Ebonyi is one of Nigeria’s historic mining territories, particularly associated with lead-zinc deposits.Related NewsNigeria, Niger Customs seek stronger Kamba border tradeOB3 pipeline ready for first gas, AKK hits 95% – NNPCOver 300 women benefit from Edo micro-business grantsImportantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. If Zamfara teaches us about unstable pits, Plateau teaches us another lesson. Mining disasters do not always announce themselves with a landslide. In February 2026, toxic gas exposure at a mining site in Kampani Zurak, Wase Local Government Area, Plateau State, killed dozens of miners. The PUNCH reported that 37 miners died, with others hospitalised. This is perhaps one of Nigeria’s most important lessons. Mining safety is not synonymous with preventing pit collapse. There are invisible killers underground – carbon monoxide, methane and other gases; oxygen deficiency; silica dust; chemical exposure; flooding; heat; and poor ventilation. A miner may enter a pit that looks perfectly stable and never come out because the air itself has become poisonous.And there was Ebonyi, a South-East state, telling us that the problem is not confined to northern Nigeria. In February 2026, three miners were reported killed when a mining pit collapsed in Ebonyi State, with others injured. This is significant because Ebonyi is one of Nigeria’s historic mining territories, particularly associated with lead-zinc deposits.Related NewsNigeria, Niger Customs seek stronger Kamba border tradeOB3 pipeline ready for first gas, AKK hits 95% – NNPCOver 300 women benefit from Edo micro-business grantsImportantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. And there was Ebonyi, a South-East state, telling us that the problem is not confined to northern Nigeria. In February 2026, three miners were reported killed when a mining pit collapsed in Ebonyi State, with others injured. This is significant because Ebonyi is one of Nigeria’s historic mining territories, particularly associated with lead-zinc deposits.Related NewsNigeria, Niger Customs seek stronger Kamba border tradeOB3 pipeline ready for first gas, AKK hits 95% – NNPCOver 300 women benefit from Edo micro-business grantsImportantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. Importantly, Nasarawa State tells a whole new story we must listen and learn from. Nasarawa is emerging as a major lithium frontier at precisely the moment the world is racing for minerals required by the global energy transition. The Federal Government has announced a $600m lithium processing plant in Nasarawa, alongside a broader push to move Nigeria from exporting raw minerals to processing them domestically.That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. That is good policy. But every mineral boom comes with a shadow.In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. In May 2026, 15 Chinese nationals and nine Nigerians were arraigned over alleged illegal lithium mining in Kokona Local Government Area of Nasarawa State.Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. Meanwhile, environmental experts have raised concerns about the rapid expansion of lithium mining in the state, particularly the health and environmental risks associated with weak regulation. This is where Nigeria must be careful. We must not allow lithium to become the new crude oil. The country cannot repeat the old pattern: discover a resource; rush to extract; export raw material; communities bear the environmental costs; the government struggles to regulate; while value addition remains inadequate.This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. This development model must not be encouraged, because it’s a recipe for insecurity and eco-suicide.My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. My view is that our central problem is that illegal mining is also an economic system. This is because people tend to describe artisanal miners as criminals. That description is sometimes correct, but it is incomplete. Behind many illegal mining operations are unemployed young people, poor rural households, informal traders, farmers looking for alternative income and communities sitting on mineral deposits without access to formal capital.This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. This is why simply deploying security personnel will not solve the problem. You will discover that the security operatives will join the artisanal mining economy themselves. I have heard of security officials lobbying to be sent to duty posts at such mining sites simply because they make huge money from bribery and kickbacks.A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. A young man with no job who discovers gold beneath his community is not going to stop digging because Abuja announces a new regulation. If the government wants him to stop, the government must provide a legal pathway. That means cooperatives, technical assistance, access to safer equipment, microcredit, and structured finance. That means licensed buying centres, transparent mineral pricing, geological information, and training. In other words, formalise the miner before you criminalise the livelihood.Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. Of course, deliberate environmental destruction, trafficking, child labour, armed mining networks and organised illegal extraction must attract serious sanctions. But poverty-driven artisanal mining requires something more sophisticated than arrests. Nigeria’s regulatory problem is now an implementation problem. We already have laws and institutions. We have mining regulations. We have environmental requirements. In fact, Nigeria even has Mining Marshals.The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. The Federal Government deployed Mining Marshals in 2026 for intelligence gathering, compliance monitoring and operational oversight in the solid-minerals sector. So what is missing? I think it is a permanent safety culture. The problem is that regulation often becomes visible after tragedy.The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows. The energy transition has created a new scramble for African resources, and Nigeria must enter this new era with its eyes open. The question is not whether we should mine. We must. The question is how Nigeria should mine. We must not create a mineral economy where the international market receives the lithium, gold and tantalum while Nigerian communities receive polluted water, abandoned pits and widows.