In the early warmth of a February morning, the dust of old pits and sun‑baked clay carries memories that refuse to fade. Across the broad tapestry of Africa’s mineral fields, where the land yields its treasures reluctantly and the wind carries the faint echo of picks and shovels, there are stories often spoken in hushed tones. On this day, those whispers grew into a quiet chorus — not loud, but steady — as women miners paused to remember colleagues who will never walk these paths again.
For many, mining is a path of survival, a course chosen not for adventure but for sustenance. Yet that path can be treacherous, especially in the artisanal and small‑scale mines scattered from Mali to Kenya. These sites — sometimes improvised, always hazardous — have claimed the lives of many who ventured into them, young and old, in pursuit of livelihood. And it is to the memory of those lost lives, mostly women, that members of Women in Mining, Africa (WiM‑AFRICA) turned their thoughts recently.
On February 15 every year, a remembrance known as Silent 15 of Bilalikoto brings together miners, advocates and families under the gentle burden of recalling tragedies. It is named for a catastrophic mine collapse in Bilalikoto, Mali, in 2025, where more than 48 artisanal miners — most of them women — were buried under soil and rock while working to support their families. In marking this day, communities across the continent reflect on both personal loss and collective risk.
These are not abstract figures on a page, but neighbors and friends whose absence is felt intimately — the empty chair at a midday meal or the silence where footsteps once echoed. In Ghana’s Obuasi region, repeated collapses have shaken informal mining pits, claiming dozens of lives without the protective measures that larger operations often provide. In Kenya’s Siaya County, circumstances were similarly grim when shafts caved in during artisanal gold digging, leaving several women dead while rescuers struggled against darkness and debris to reach the trapped.
Beyond individual places, the theme of remembrance has become both a lament and a call to stewardship. Women in Mining, Africa speaks softly yet firmly about the urgent need for safer conditions, formalized protections, and shared responsibility among governments, companies, and community leaders. It is a reminder that while minerals fuel industries, the people who extract them must not be treated as expendable.
Gathered under the gentle sun of commemoration, those present do not only grieve — they affirm the dignity of those who worked, laughed, and dreamed before tragedy struck. There is no harsh rhetoric here, no sharp judgment, but rather a collective moment of acknowledgment: the land that gives must not take without care, and the lives beneath its surface are worth more than any ore.
In the end, the remembrance serves a purpose beyond mourning. It quietly urges action to improve safety standards across mining sectors and ensure that families and communities are protected and supported. It underlines that the memory of those lost is not confined to the past but is woven into ongoing conversations about how to make mining not only productive, but humane.
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Sources • Business Day Nigeria • Business Day NG • Independent Newspaper Nigeria (contextual reporting on mining deaths)