Sweat and stone: The children powering Nigeria’s lithium boom
4 min readIn the Pasali community of Nasarawa, Nigeria, a troubling reality plays out daily: children like 6-year-old Juliet Samaniya are laboring in hazardous conditions in the country’s burgeoning lithium mines. Juliet works tirelessly, chipping away at rocks containing lithium—a mineral vital for clean energy technologies. In return, she earns less than a dollar each day. Despite the government’s policies on free basic education and child labor laws, many children like Juliet are forced into mining instead of attending school, driven by poverty and limited educational opportunities.
Juliet’s mother, Abigail Samaniya, is fully aware that education would offer a better future for her daughter. However, she sees mining as the only viable option to provide for her family. While Nigeria has laws aimed at curbing child labor and providing free education, the reality in remote areas, particularly in illegal mines, paints a different picture. Hidden school fees, the high cost of living, and weak enforcement of labor laws perpetuate the cycle of child labor in the country.
The International Labour Organization (ILO) estimates that over a million children are working in hazardous mining conditions worldwide, with Africa being the most affected region. Nigeria, in particular, faces significant challenges, with children working long hours in dangerous conditions, exposed to toxic dust and working with crude, unsafe tools.
Lithium Mining’s Impact on Pasali
The rise in demand for lithium, a key component in renewable energy technologies such as electric vehicle batteries, has fueled the expansion of illegal mining operations in Nigeria. Over the past decade, Pasali has become a hotspot for such activities. Miners, including children, extract and process lithium ore using primitive tools, often under dangerous conditions. Many young miners, like 19-year-old Bashir Rabiu, recall witnessing deadly accidents in the pits. Having started working as a child, Bashir is all too familiar with the risks involved.
Children like Juliet and her peers can collectively sort up to 10 bags of lithium-rich ore each day, sharing just $2.42 among themselves. Many children, including Juliet, have been forced to abandon their education due to financial constraints. While education is supposed to be free in government schools, additional fees—hidden or unofficial—remain a significant barrier for the poorest families, leaving them with no choice but to send their children to work.
According to Pasali’s schoolmaster, Sule Dantini, school attendance has decreased significantly as children are drawn into the mines. While he denies that fees are being charged, many parents cite these costs as a major reason why they cannot afford to send their children to school.
Illegal Mining and Corruption
The prevalence of illegal mining in Nigeria can largely be attributed to weak enforcement of regulations and endemic corruption. Buyers like Aliyu Ibrahim openly admit to paying bribes to avoid scrutiny and continue their operations at unlicensed mines. These transactions enable the exploitation of children and adults alike, allowing illegal mining activities to persist unchecked.
Calls for Change and Advocacy
Human rights activists and advocates are raising their voices in opposition to the exploitation of children in the mining sector. Philip Jakpor, an activist, criticized the Nigerian government for prioritizing revenue generation over the protection of human rights. Juliane Kippenberg from Human Rights Watch has stressed the urgency of implementing protective measures, particularly as global demand for lithium continues to rise.
The Nigerian government claims to be taking action through several reforms, such as updating mining laws, establishing mining marshals, and investing in social programs designed to keep children in school. However, advocates contend that these measures have not yet done enough to address the root causes of child labor in the mining sector. The lack of effective enforcement, coupled with widespread poverty, means that many children continue to work in these dangerous conditions, often with little chance of escaping the cycle of exploitation.
Looking to the Future
For now, Abigail Samaniya continues to rely on the income generated from the mines to support her family. Despite the hardship, she holds on to the hope that her daughter can escape this cycle and pursue an education. “I want her to go to school and have a better life,” she says. While Juliet’s future remains uncertain, her story is a poignant reminder of the dire need for greater protections for children in Nigeria’s mining sector, especially as the demand for lithium grows in the face of the global push for clean energy.
In Pasali and beyond, the future of many children hangs in the balance, caught between the promise of clean energy and the reality of child labor in one of the world’s most dangerous industries. It’s clear that urgent reform is needed, both to protect these vulnerable children and to ensure that the promise of a green future doesn’t come at the expense of their safety and well-being.