Into the Pit of Death: Why Plateau Youths Risk Their Lives for Survival

Despite repeated tragedies, illegal mining continues to lure desperate youths across Plateau State, turning daily survival into a gamble with death.

Several lives have been lost in recent months as unsafe mining pits collapse or armed attackers target miners. In Dura community of Jos South, four young men were killed after a mining site caved in, trapping others underground. Earlier, another pit reportedly owned by a prominent politician also collapsed, burying several youths, including two brothers, with little justice following the incident.

The danger is not limited to accidents alone. Early this year, bandits stormed a mining location in Bokkos Local Government Area, killing 12 miners and injuring more than 10 others. Official records for 2025 place the death toll from mine collapses and violent attacks at over 50, though miners insist many cases go unreported.

Alarmed by the rising fatalities, Governor Caleb Mutfwang signed Executive Order 001 of 2025, suspending all mining activities across the state. The governor said the move was aimed at protecting the environment, curbing illegal operations and addressing security threats linked to unregulated mining.

“As Chief Security Officer of the state, it is my duty to protect lives. Given the growing insecurity associated with illegal mining, all operations are suspended until further notice,” Mutfwang declared, stressing that the order would also tackle land degradation, child labour, banditry, kidnapping and the influx of foreign miners.

However, the decision sparked backlash from miners and opposition figures who described the ban as insensitive and capable of stripping thousands of their only source of livelihood.

Despite the suspension, illegal mining has continued openly in areas such as Barkin Ladi and Mangu, where deposits of tin and columbite attract thousands daily. At Kassa community in Barkin Ladi, mining activity resembles a regulated operation, with traders, buyers and miners arriving from Abuja and neighbouring states.
Yet beneath the busy atmosphere lies constant fear.

DAILY POST’s visit to the site revealed a workforce resigned to fate. Many admitted they risk death daily simply to feed their families.

“I know it is illegal, but hunger pushes us here. There are no jobs, and farming is no longer safe because of bandits,” said Dung Joseph.

Silas Danjuma added, “I do this because I must survive. It is dangerous, but I cannot steal to feed my family.”

Patrick Vongman, a graduate of Business Administration, said years of job hunting left him with no choice. “I have a wife and children to care for. If the government says this is illegal, they should give us another way to live. A pit can collapse anytime, but life itself is risk.”

For Thomas Dimas, each trip to the mine is a possible farewell. “When I leave home, I tell my wife to expect either me alive or my body. I have seen five friends buried alive in a collapse. But what choice do we have?”
Others echoed the same desperation.

“Everyone must die one day,” Inusa Sabo said. “I focus on making money to take care of my family, even with the danger.”
Geoffrey Kutah admitted fear follows him underground. “Guza mining is crude and risky, but it pays better than any other work available. We only do it because there are no jobs.”

Across Plateau, illegal mining has become more than a crime — it is a symbol of economic desperation, where youths descend daily into pits not knowing if they will rise again.