"That is it," he says finally, "that is it."
The nearby Ajenua Bepo Forest reserve near Akyem supports a rich ecosystem. The tall trees are impressive as they reach up to the sky. Around them is a warm climate, with ample rain, and rich soils. The farmers near the forest take advantage of it to grow plantains, cocoa, kola nuts, and vegetables. It is not an easy life. Everyone works hard. The more successful farmers may not be wealthy in western terms, but they do not see themselves as poor. They are proud of what they do.
The farmers in Akyem say it is not as tranquil as it used to be. The American company Newmont Mining has bought a concession to explore for gold in this area, and is negotiating with the villagers to get the land they farm, compensate them for their crops, and relocate them to another place to make way for a mining pit 1.5 miles long and half a mile wide.
The company even wants to mine in the forest reserve, and the government seems willing to allow it. In April 2008, 215 members of the Concerned Farmers Association in Akyem Adausina signed a petition against mining in the forest.
In 2005 there was a demonstration against the mining proposal, and one person was shot and killed. Oxfam America's partner WACAM came to investigate the killing, and called for an investigation into the death.
Samuel Fosuhene, 65, a village councilor at that time, became wary of the prospect of mining in the town. He resigned from the council and started supporting WACAM's efforts to organize people in the village to learn about and represent their rights in negotiations with Newmont.
Fosuhene and Kwabena say there are three main issues in Akyem:
Fosuhene's main concern is responsible stewardship of the land. "Land is bequeathed from generation to generation," he says. "So if by allowing surface mining we will deprive...the generation yet unborn, then you have to be very careful."
But land management is difficult. "In our part of the world, no individual owns land," says Hannah Owusu-Koranteng of WACAM. "Even the chiefs, they do not own the land, they keep it in trust for the future of the community and its needs."
This system is at odds with the government's right to all mineral rights. It can lease the land to anyone for mining in the name of development, Owusu-Koranteng says.
The 2006 Minerals and Mining Act requires people be compensated for loss of land allocated to them by the chief, and sharecroppers need to be compensated for the crops they are growing on the land. At this point, WACAM says the company is offering eight US dollars for a cocoa tree, even though the trees produce $20 of cocoa a year for 40 years at least.
Kwabena and his siblings are concerned about losing their family home, a sprawling, 12-room concrete house that was the center of the community when his father was the chief.
In front lies the pacification stone, where errant community members confessing disrespect to authority would show remorse by slaughtering livestock. Inside the bright red walls are a series of rooms, the drums the chief would use to summon the community for meetings, the ceremonial stool and dais on which the chief sat to hold court, and the palanquin used to transport him on special occasions. Kwabena shows visitors the home, his arms outstretched as he moves through the rooms and courtyards, describing the activities of the royal household.
"This is a palace," he says next to the dais where his father dispensed wisdom to the village. "Even though it is such an old building, we are comfortable in it."
With such a nice house, with such a rich history, Kwabena and his 21 brothers and sisters, and all their children are concerned about being relocated to smaller quarters. "My father used to occupy a 16-foot by 14-foot room," Kwabena says, gesturing off to the other end of the courtyard. "You can't remove us and put us in a 9-foot by 9-foot room. That is uncomfortable and I seriously object to it."
Standing behind their house, Kwabena raises an even greater concern: "All the great chiefs who have reigned in this village are buried here," Kwabena says quietly standing under the tree planted for his father. "We can't look on and allow them to dump [mine] waste on them. It is a sacred place."
"That is it," Kwabena says, this time with conviction. "That is it."
]]>La Paz is a small collection of rustic shelters, on the side of the road 20 minutes from Lake Izabal in eastern Guatemala. It blends into the intense green hills, dotted with small corn fields and criss-crossed by footpaths. It is the scene of a struggle between indigenous farmers and an international corporation intent on exploring for minerals on the land the Q'eq'chi use for growing corn and beans.
Freddie Mo Qub, a young leader of the community, explains the situation: A mining company called Skye Resources has a license from the government of Guatemala to explore for minerals in the area. Property rights are not clear, and the company insists it has the right to charge them rent to farm on the 3,300 acres where they have lived and worked for many of years. Eventually, they are told, they will have to leave.
The people of La Paz have designated Mo Qub, 30, to learn about the plans for the mine, determine what dangers they face, and help them develop a strategy for the way forward. He has been participating in workshops run by the Association of Friends of Lake Izabal, or ASALI as it is known in Spanish. ASALI has also taken him to visit mine sites in the western highlands of Guatemala, as well as in Honduras.
ASALI's director Eloyda Mejía is at the meeting. She says the workshops, which are done with help from Oxfam America, are designed to help the indigenous people in the area learn about their rights, and the ways that modern mines operate. When Mejía addresses the meeting, she says, "we want you to learn, see for yourselves, and make your own decisions about mining."
Mo Qub says the ASALI workshops are an invaluable source of information. La Paz is now connected to different areas of the country where indigenous people are experiencing similar problems. "If it weren't for these workshops, we would not have any clear information about the effects of mining in our communities," he says.
He has seen that mining communities in Guatemala do not benefit much from the revenues from the minerals taken from their lands. While they may be relocated and lose their fields and water sources, they may or may not get a decent job at a mine site, which usually hires skilled workers.
Mo Qub says after seeing the effects of mining on other indigenous people in Guatemala, Las Paz is not in favor of the Skye Resources project. "Everyone wants the mine to leave," he says about La Paz. "The same way it came is the way it can go. Mines use a lot of water, they pollute the water, and will damage the agricultural potential here."
For the Q'eq'chi people, the situation is curious, and a bit infuriating. They pay to work land that has been theirs for many generations, and are being pushed to leave it altogether. "We are 100 percent Guatemalans," Mo Qub says. "How is it possible that a foreign company can accuse us of illegally occupying this land? The words they say to us are offensive, and deeply anger us."
The meeting ends with a prayer, just as it started. The farmers may pray individually, but afterwards a woman says they are working together to defend their small part of the world, where they have lived for centuries. "We are united," she says. "We know our children will have no place to go if we don't fight for our land now." Like many others, she is not eager to share her name with strangers.
As if to show they will remain here, several of the men sharpen their machetes, and start clearing the grass and weeds away from the entrance of the meeting place. They slice the grass with long graceful slashes. The machetes make a metallic ringing sound as the grass jumps away from the blades, which blur as they arc off to the side and back again.
]]>It is hard to reconcile the beauty of the lake with the violence along its shores. Mejía's work to defend the environment, and propose sustainable ways of living and working, has angered some who would prefer to rely on industrial mining for economic development in the region. A local citizen's organization has written a threatening letter to the Interior Ministry in Guatemala City, saying her work to educate community leaders about the risks of mining is unacceptable. She continues working, with international observers with her at all times to protect her.
Mejía first came here 10 years ago. She and her three children settled in the lakeside town of El Estor, promoting ecotourism and waging a series of campaigns to protect Lake Izabal from oil and mining projects that she says threaten the natural resources of the region—and won—t do much to benefit the local farming and fishing communities.
In 2002, Mejía and a handful of teachers, fisherman, environmentalists, a local physician and other citizens took on Shell Oil, which had a concession to drill right through the bottom of the lake. The small band of opponents founded the Association of Friends of Lake Izabal (ASALI) and succeeded in blocking the licenses for this project. ASALI then turned its attention to nickel mines along the sides of the lake.
There has been industrial mining in Izabal since the 1950s, but it has been in fits and starts as the prices of commodities have spiked and crashed over the years. But mining is now booming everywhere, so the Canadian company Skye Resources, which bought the mine in 2004, is now preparing to work a 100-square-mile concession it acquired in 2005. The area is home to 30 indigenous Q'eq'chi communities. None were properly consulted about the concession. This constitutes a violation of Guatemala's 1996 Peace Accords and international laws that protect indigenous people. The company is now engaged in talks with communities to convince them to go along with the plan to mine.
Skye Resources is now operating at a loss as it seeks financing so it can start mining in 2009. The company estimates it could get as much as 673,000 tons of nickel out of the mine. As part of its effort to clear people out of the concession area, the company and police forcefully evicted a number of Q'eq'chi communities in January of 2007, burning their humble shelters to the ground.
"We need a strong defense of the environment here," Mejía says at her home in El Estor. She has just finished a meal of traditionally prepared fish from Lake Izabal, and dines with visitors and two members of Peace Brigades International, who accompany her to ensure her safety.
ASALI is working in 29 communities to teach their leaders about mining: how much water is used, the chemicals, the transportation, and the rights of indigenous communities to be consulted. "We want every community leader to attend one of these workshops, and share their ideas and problems and work on them together," Mejía says. With help from Oxfam America, ASALI also arranges for these leaders to visit other mining areas in Honduras and in Guatemala's western highlands to see the effects of mining on indigenous people. "This is so they can see the consequences and talk to affected people," she says.
With the laws around land rights so unclear in Guatemala, indigenous people lack the required title and other official documents they need to defend their territory. Mejía says this needs to be addressed. "Through our contacts we have put the issue of land on the national agenda; it's been discussed in congress, so people are aware of the problems of land in mining concession areas."
Much of Mejía's motivation comes from her commitment to the people, all those who fish and grow corn on the fields near the lake. "When you come here and see the needs of the poor communities, you can see that people are not asking for much in life. But when you see the injustices and the way things are taken from them, it is so unfair that they are so poor and have so few opportunities despite the richness and national treasure here," she says. "This leads you to fall in love with this place. It makes you want to do something to contribute to changes here—and to denounce the injustice."
It is just this commitment that puts her at risk. Her Peace Brigade guardians are with her and several of her colleagues from ASALI, all of whom are working under threat. Mejía says they are not radicals."We want people to understand that there is another healthy and just way to develop this area, through rational use of the national treasures we have here."
"If at some time we no longer exist, we hope that we have sowed some seeds of awareness, solidarity, and respect to the environment. In this threatening climate for our work, our vulnerability makes us do what little we can—with all our hearts."
]]>Serwaah, 65, and her husband, Kofi Agyei, 77, own two cocoa farms and three homes. Each farm produces enough food to sell at markets in Kumasi and Accra.
And the profits are enough to feed the entire family. So, when Newmont Mining Corporation talks about expanding the Ahafo Gold Mine in nearby Kenyase into Mehame—claiming that the one-time fee for their land will improve their quality of life and bring development to their community—Serwaah reacts with suspicion.
Having visited nearby Kenyase, where her sister-in-law once lived, she says she's witnessed firsthand what "development" can mean to a mining company.
"I get sick when I hear about the project. My heart races," she says. "I was so sad to see places that had been cocoa farms turned into rocks and pits. The farmers have no food because their land has been taken over. They use money for everything and can't live off the land anymore."
That's a stark difference from Serwaah's life right now. While still very poor by Western standards, she says she is wealthy in other ways. "The land is everything to us. It's worth more than gold. Even if a [cocoa] tree falls, we can eat the mushrooms that grow off of it."
Beyond the land itself, the village of Mehame is already lit up by electricity. And Serwaah's family need only walk a short distance to collect free, potable water. Many families, relocated from Kenyase and the surrounding villages, live in structures smaller than their old homes, and many are not connected to electricity lines. In Ntotroso, a resettled community filled with former residents of Kenyase, residents must now pay for their household water, and report taking turns with family members just to bathe.
"Newmont told us a lot of good stories. But we've seen that they've really disappointed us," says Kojo Zica, 28, a resident of the Ntotroso resettlement. "Since we came to this settlement, most of us are not working—even the youth. Even the water we have to pay for. It is difficult to feed our families."
For these reasons, people in Serwaah's community have been attending workshops by WACAM, a local organization supported by Oxfam. WACAM teaches the cocoa farmers to understand their rights under national and international law. In Serwaah's case, these rights include saying "no" to mining if she so chooses.
No amount of compensation from Newmont could replace the lifestyle her family has cultivated over the years, she says. And while right now she can count on her cocoa farms yielding a harvest twice a year, whatever payment she received from Newmont would peter out over time.
"For us, development is not about having big, big things, but having your peace of mind. For us, development is about working for oneself and leaving something for the next generation," she says.
]]>Mining has never been a significant part of El Salvador's economy, but modern techniques make it attractive in some areas. The Canadian mining company Pacific Rim is currently exploring for minerals in three areas, and has requested a concession to restart mining at the El Dorado mine in the department of Cabañas where it says it has invested $28 million and can produce 1.2 million ounces of gold and 7.4 million ounces of silver. Pacific Rim is also in the early stages of exploration on its Zamora project, near Texistepeque, Santa Ana.
Farmers near the town of Texistepeque are skeptical about mining, and some have even visited large-scale mines in Honduras and come back opposed to any mining in El Salvador. Salvador Antonio Seseña Rodruígez, 62, is one of the farmers who made the trip to the San Andres mine in Honduras. "I was really impressed by the destruction," he said about the mine. "We saw the main river there was almost dry, and there was no life in the river."
Rodruígez is a father of 10, and makes a living raising cows and growing corn and beans. So he was particularly concerned about the water problems he saw. "We already have a water crisis here," he says. "We can't drink contaminated water. How will we end up if we allow mining here?"
It was through his church and a meeting with the Centro de Investigación Sobre Inversión y Comercio (know as CEICOM) that he participated in the exchange visit. He came back ready to mobilize others in his community.
Oxfam America is working with CEICOM and a coalition of social, environmental, and other civil society organizations pushing for a voice in a real debate about whether mining is suitable for El Salvador, where some estimates say 90 percent of surface water is already polluted. The country has also been largely deforested, leaving many communities at risk of landslides during heavy rains, so many are already concerned about the environment. The Salvadorian Bishop's Conference released a statement saying mining causes damage to the environment and communities in May of 2007.
Civil society organization in El Salvador have proposed a law that would prohibit all hard-rock mineral mining, arguing the country is too densely populated and water is too scarce to support the industry.
Oxfam America's program in Central America, which is based in El Salvador, is working to enrich the debate on this issue, help civil society project its voice and hold the government accountable to the people, and provide information about mining and its effects on communities and the environment that citizens can use to make informed decisions.
The government of El Salvador has said it will not grant any new licenses to explore or operate mines until it does a strategic environmental study to assess the likely impact of open-pit mining in the country. "We feel this study should be done with the participation of civil society," says David Pereira of CEICOM. He said that in 2006 the minister of natural resources came out publicly against mining, saying the government did not have the capacity to regulate the industry. The minister then challenged civil society to change the laws and cautioned land owners not to sell their land to mining companies.
Some members of the senate have written a public letter to government leaders saying that they believe allowing industrial mining into the northern areas of the country will jeopardize development projects supported by the Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC), a $460-million, US government-funded foreign aid program, to bring sustained economic development in that region.
Pacific Rim continues to explore at El Dorado, which it says is its flagship property. The company is running an aggressive public relations campaign with radio ads introducing the slogan "minería verde" in an attempt to win hearts and minds of government and citizens. It also sponsors municipal soccer teams, and holds community meetings to sway farmers to accept mining in their community.
In the meantime, the Environmental Committee of Cabañas is reporting that 10 natural springs have dried up in the past month in areas close to Pacific Rim exploratory drilling. These reports have been verified by the Ministry of Natural Resources. In one of the cases, cattle-raising communities lost their natural spring four days after Pacific Rim began drilling. The company is now trucking in daily rations of water.
]]>The delegation of US representatives and their staff, led by House Financial Services Committee Chairman Barney Frank, Democrat of Massachusetts, visited Ghana as part of a three-country African tour. On March 28, they met with a number of groups in the capital city of Accra, including Oxfam America partners the Center for Public Interest Law and WACAM.
The subject of the meeting: Why does gold mining, Ghana's largest industry, make big profits for companies and the government, but bring few benefits for the poor communities where the mining actually takes place.
Daniel Owusu-Koranteng, executive director of WACAM, told the representatives that some farmers have not been not fairly compensated when mining companies purchased their land. "Companies will pay a farmer 9 Ghana cedis, about $8, for a cocoa tree, when the cocoa tree can earn a cocoa farmer about $20 per year for an economic life of 40 to 50 years."
He said gold mining has been a cause of environmental harm in Ghana, citing the US-based Newmont Mining Corporation's plans to build a gold mine in the Ajenua Bepo nature reserve—despite a petition from over 200 farmers asking them to preserve the country's rapidly dwindling forests.
The coalition also talked about the lack of transparency on the part of mining companies and governments. When contracts and payments are kept secret, corruption and mismanagement can spread, making it harder for poor communities to get their share of mining revenues. While the government of Ghana must create more transparent policies around mining, the US also needs to make a concrete commitment to help, Owusu-Koranteng said.
A new piece of US legislation could help communities by requiring mining companies to be more transparent about their practices. On May 12, Representative Frank and other members of the House Financial Services Committee will introduce the "Extractive Industries Transparency Disclosure Act" in the House of Representatives. The bill will require oil, gas, and mining companies registered in the US to disclose the amount and type of the payments they make in the countries where they operate.
"Now that they've met our partners, and heard how mining affects people's lives, the Congressional Delegation knows that oil, gas, and mining companies must respect the rights of the communities where they operate—in Ghana and elsewhere," says Keith Slack, director of Oxfam's Right to Know, Right to Decide campaign. "We must urge other members of Congress to follow suit and pass this crucial legislation."
]]>This report explores the basic concepts of Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR), and explores key social issues the mining industry must face in Peru. It includes a summary of the main national and international regulations, standards, and guidelines that will help Peru’s mining sector implement essential aspects of a good CSR program.
The report also recommends that the government, mining industry, and civil society jointly develop reference guides for employment, land acquisition and voluntary resettlement, public consultation, participatory monitoring, and social investments.
Corporate Social Responsibility in the Mining Sector in Peru seeks to take a first step towards meaningful dialogue about CSR among the different actors involved to help civil society obtain the highest benefits from CSR policies and actions implemented by government and corporations.
]]>Shivankoreni, Lower Urubamba, Peru
The small Machiguenga village of Shivankoreni is located within the Lower Urubamba region of eastern Peru, a remote forested area extremely rich in biodiversity. The village lies within the heart of the Camisea project zone, an area being exploited for the wealth of natural gas contained beneath the forest floor. Several other groups of indigenous peoples—both contacted and living in "voluntary isolation" within a state-protected reserve—also inhabit the fragile ecosystems of the project zone. Since the launch of the Camisea project in 2002, indigenous communities have raised growing concerns regarding project impacts to Peruvian authorities, companies (particularly Argentina's Pluspetrol, which leads the upstream consortium), and project financers such as the Inter-American Development Bank.
Unfortunately, to date Camisea project activities have presented several threats to the cultural and biological diversity of the Lower Urubamba. For example, five spills have occurred in the gas liquids pipeline, with serious health and conservation repercussions for local communities. According to Marianella Mata, a Shivankoreni resident, "Since the December 22, 2004 spill we've had very few fish to catch. We've been greatly affected—everything has changed since the spill." Increased boat traffic on the river also contributes to loss of fish, and represents a potential threat to community safety when not managed properly.
Community members have also expressed frustration with other challenges associated with the project:
Shivankoreni community members have been assertive in making their voices heard in response to these challenges. The community twice demanded a delay in consultation on environmental assessments for the project because they did not have adequate assistance, and sought support from an Oxfam America partner organization, CEDIA, in order to more effectively navigate negotiations with Pluspetrol. To call attention to the need for improved government support in dealings with the company, Shivankoreni and two other affected communities issued a declaration demanding that Defensoria del Proyecto Camisea (a body sponsored by the company to address community grievances) be deactivated and that an improved mechanism for community participation and consultation be developed.
After a delegation visit by Oxfam America and other groups, Shivankoreni community leaders successfully convinced Pluspetrol to restrict helicopter overflights in order to reduce fauna disturbance. However, much more needs to be done to promote transparency and prevent future environmental degradation in local communities like Shivankoreni. The second phase of the project, entitled "Camisea II" or "Peru LNG," includes expansion of the gas fields and construction of a new pipeline and a gas export plant on the coast. As in the past, Oxfam America will continue to support local community efforts to ensure the responsiveness of government authorities and company leadership to their concerns.
]]>The Prize recognizes individuals for sustained and significant efforts to protect and enhance the natural environment, often at great personal risk. Each winner receives an award of $150,000, the largest in the world for grassroots environmentalists. The Goldman Prize considers those involved in local efforts, where positive change is created through community or citizen participation in the issues that affect them. Through recognizing these individual leaders, the Goldman Prize seeks to inspire other ordinary people to take extraordinary actions to protect the natural world.
The Amazon Defense Front was founded in 1994, and is leading a law suit against ChevronTexaco for alleged environmental damages in the northeast Amazon region of Ecuador. Oxfam America has supported the FDA since it was founded, and provided grant funds to help it organize 100 communities affected by oil pollution.
"For many years, Oxfam has helped us to organize and raise awareness in affected communities," said Luis Yanza. "This work that has been critical to keeping the case alive."
This prize is very important for Yanza and Fajardo. In addition to the financial support for their work, it will also help the FDA gain public attention and much-needed exposure in the media.
"Pablo Fajardo and Luis Yanza have always worked in close coordination with us," said Javier Aroca, program coordinator for Oxfam in South America. "We congratulate them for this award and welcome this new recognition of their efforts to defend the rights of all Ecuadorians."
Luis Yanza was the first president of the Amazon Defense Front (FDA), an umbrella group of community and grassroots organizations formed to protect the environment in the northeastern Ecuadorian department of Sucumbíos. He now coordinates the FDA's involvement in the ChevronTexaco case and serves as liaison with the Assembly of Delegates, an organization that was formed—and which is supported by Oxfam America—to represent approximately 100 communities affected by the environmental damage left behind by Texaco.
Luis explains that "even if the trial ended today or tomorrow, or if it ends in another year or two, the process doesn't stop there, because after the court decision comes the hard work—carrying out the sentence, doing the environmental cleanup, implementing the compensation. That needs to be done in coordination and with the participation of the affected communities. Even if we lost the trial, it would have to continue, because we still need to find a solution to the people's environmental and health problems, because the situation can't go on like this..."
Pablo Fajardo was born in 1972 in the town of El Carmen, in the province of Manabí. He now lives in Shushufindi, in the province of Sucumbíos since 1987. The trial against Texaco is his first case and it is a crucial one for the defense of the rights of the Amazon population, as well as for the sovereignty of Ecuador.
Pablo says that the only thing that he hopes for in the Texaco case is "that justice can be done. Those of us who live here have a great opportunity to demonstrate to the rest of the country that we are men and women with rights equal to those of others."
]]>The agreement between ECOWAS and Oxfam America states that the new mining code's primary objective is "to facilitate the contribution of civil society in the process of forming a common mining policy that is favorable to the poor, respectful of the protection principles of the environment and of human rights, and that renders the government and the mining companies responsible through good governance practices."
"In its current form, mining activity has not made the lives of West Africans significantly better," said Mamadou Bitèye, Regional Director for Oxfam America in West Africa. "Even though gold mining has surpassed cotton and cocoa farming, Mali and Ghana still rank 173 and 135 respectively out of 177 countries, according to the UNDP Human Development Index," he said after signing the agreement with ECOWAS in Nigeria.
The regional mining project encompasses three specific objectives for the new code:
The creation of the ECOWAS mining code is part of Oxfam America's program in West Africa to promote citizen participation in decisions related to oil, gas, and mining projects, transparency of payments by international corporations to governments operating in this industry, and uniform laws and policies across the region that will forestall the "race to the bottom" as companies compete for foreign investment by compromising their social and environmental standards.
Oxfam America will oversee the participation of civil society representatives in the drafting of the new mining code. Mamadou Bitèye, and Dr. Mohamed Ibn Chambas, the President of ECOWAS, both expressed their satisfaction in signing the agreement at ECOWAS headquarters.
"We appreciate the political will of ECOWAS in working to harmonize mining policies," said Bitèye "A regional mining code will allow joint governance and better use of foreign direct investment by avoiding the current climate of competition among member countries."
]]>In 2002, Bogoso Gold Mines, a subsidiary of Golden Star Resources, acquired the mine concession and started to aggressively expand the mine pit towards the town. Use of explosives in the mine pit damaged homes in the Krutown neighborhood, and repairs effected by the company were not adequate, according to homeowners. In the neighboring village of Dumase there have been two cyanide spills in the Aprepre River in 2004 and 2006.
"In 2004 we could see the surface mine approaching the town, so we complained to the government but no one came to our aid," said Dominic Nyame, a burly 43-year-old former miner turned community organizer with the Concerned Citizens Association of Prestea. Community members said the encroaching mine pits brought blasting too close to nearby neighborhoods and houses were being damaged. "In 2005 we demonstrated against the company, and the military came to town and shot seven people—fortunately no one died." There has never been an independent investigation of this incident.
The communities of Prestea, as well as Himan, and Dumase that neighbor the Bogoso/Prestea mine, are requesting a comprehensive evaluation of the impact of the first phase of the Bogoso/Prestea project and for the company to respect their right to free, prior, and informed consent regarding the planned Prestea Southern Project.
The community of Dumase is also seeking damages in court from the 2004 and 2006 cyanide spills, and has formally requested that Golden Star Resources commission independent health investigations, but the company has not acted on this either.
Community members attended training sessions with Oxfam America's partner WACAM in 2005 to learn about their human rights, and how to teach others about their right to live in a safe environment and be consulted about the effects of the expanding mining operation. Community members went to Accra and met with reporters and got their grievances into the media, after which Bogoso Gold said they would reduce their blasting activity and form a joint committee to oversee future blasting.
But the issue of pit expansion is still a problem for people living in and near Prestea who fear being involuntarily relocated, or living too close to mine pits and blasting. The proposed pit expansion would also be within several hundred meters of a school, so many parents in this area are concerned about the safety of their children. In two prior incidents in 2006 security forces have moved people off of mine property by force, and the Concerned Citizens Association has had to use some of the training they received from WACAM to resolve these conflicts peacefully. "With WACAM we can calm the waters," Nyame said.
Bogoso Gold is currently suspending all mining activity and expansion while it negotiates with the citizens of Prestea, who are exerting their right to be consulted about how the mine operates, how it could possibly expand its operations into the southern part of Prestea, and the way it carries out any future blasting in the mine pits.
]]>In addition to details about Oxfam's work on climate change, you will also find deeper perspective on our ongoing work in Ghana focused on mining, an update on life in Darfur as the crisis continues with no end yet in sight, and a success story about a multicultural approach to fighting poverty in the mountains of Peru.
]]>When the government conceded the minerals under his farm to an international mining company in 1991, 37-year-old Ayensu and his wife and four children were out. Worse, he later discovered that the payment he was to receive for his land had been arbitrarily cut by two-thirds. "I was not happy, and I cried," Ayensu said later. "It was because of this farm that we could eat...now my children are out of school. I can't go to my farm ever again."
By law, the mine run by AngloGold Ashanti Ltd. must compensate farmers for their lands and for future lost income from their crops. The company reviewed the crops on each farm and assigned a value. After some farmers were paid, others found their offers suddenly rescinded, replaced with ones based on the total acreage of their farms.
"They should have negotiated this with us," said Emilia Amoateng, 30, chair of the Concerned Farmers' Association of Teberebie. "But some of the elders who were close to the company supported it....Those who should come to our aid—our district assembly and members of parliament—have been bought off and corrupted," she said.
It's a common story, one repeated in many other mining countries. Most farmers have no one to help them hold the company or their elected representatives accountable, to respect their property rights, to compensate them fairly, and to protect the environment. And in so many out-of-the way villages we have never heard of, farmers shrug, take what's offered, hope for a job they will never get at the mine, and do the best they can.
But in Teberebie and scores of other villages in Ghana, things are working out slightly differently. The farmers are shifting the balance of power by learning, understanding, and asserting their basic human rights.
The price of gold has been quite high the last few years, and recently topped $900 an ounce. Ghana is now the second largest producer of gold on the continent behind South Africa. In its 50th year of independence, Ghana is working hard to reduce poverty for its 10 million citizens.
But most of the wealth mining generates goes right back out to foreign companies operating the mines. A 2005 UN report estimated that just five percent of the $894 million from mines in 2003 was captured in Ghana, a mere $46 million in Ghana's $11 billion economy. "Our country is poor because our resources are under the control of those with all the money," says Daniel Owusu-Koranteng, executive director of Wassa Association of Communities Affected by Mining (WACAM), an organization that helps people protect the environment and defend their human rights. "Ninety-five percent of the mining revenues go out of the country, and only five percent stays—along with 100 percent of the problems."
The problems go beyond farmers losing their land. The BBC reported in 2006 that at least 12 people have been shot in violent confrontations with mine security and police forces. There have also been numerous cases of cyanide spills near rivers and streams needed for drinking and irrigation in villages near mines. Owusu-Koranteng said that the five percent retained in Ghana from mining can't come close to redressing all these problems.
Oxfam America is funding the work of WACAM, Owusu-Koranteng's organization. WACAM teaches villagers about the constitution of Ghana and their rights under the 2006 Minerals and Mining Act. Armed with this information, farmers can then assert their rights to fair compensation for their lands and hold the companies responsible for damage to the environment.
The approach has proven effective in several towns. In Prestea, an industrialized mining town since the 1920s, 62-year-old Godfried Ofori said that the people of Prestea were being rocked by explosions in mining pits run by Bogoso Gold, a local subsidiary of Golden Star Resources of Denver. The blasts have cracked the cement houses in town, and waste dumps have clogged water springs in the area with earth and rocks dug out of the pits. And there is a threat of expansion: the mine wants to move the entire southern part of the town.
"They were using money to buy the support of citizens," Ofori said. "We went house to house to tell people about their human rights—and about the company's plan to blast just 200 or 300 meters from their houses and schools...so now they understand, they know they have human rights, and they no longer take money from the mine company and put their children at risk."
Golden Star stopped blasting and all mining temporarily while it negotiates to expand the mine.
Learning about basic rights that you never knew you had changes your perspective. When you learn how to negotiate with a mining company, speak to reporters, or show those in authority that they can't take advantage of you and get away with it, you realize that you have power. You deserve respect. It is this change in perspective that has helped the people of Prestea bring mining to a halt while they negotiate their future.
"Most people don't have money," said Ofori, "but they have their spirit."
You can see this spirit in the eyes of the farmers in Teberebie, where about 15 of them are disputing the compensation offered by AngloGold Ashanti. Their Concerned Farmers' Association of Teberebie staged a march to the nearby mining center of Tarkwa, where they were interviewed by the media. This brought a lot of visibility to their case, as well as a proposal to negotiate from AngloGold. Unfortunately, it did not lead to an agreement, but with the help of WACAM and the legal aid organization, Center for Public Interest Law (CEPIL), both funded by Oxfam America, the claim is now in the courts.
Nana Molobah Nyamiketh, chief of the village of Abekoase, has a round, friendly face but a serious nature. And it was this serious side that went into action the morning of October 16, 2001, when villagers came to him with bad news: Their main source of drinking water, the Asuman River, was full of dead fish, and those who had come in contact with the water had developed skin problems. It was their worst fear: a cyanide spill. "We informed WACAM, as they had been teaching us how to negotiate with the company and understand our rights...and we got some journalists to cover the news of the cyanide spill."
The 400 villagers of Abekoase, half of whom had already been displaced by the Gold Fields mine, took the company to court in March of 2002. By the end of 2003, Abekoase and Gold Fields had reached a settlement out of court that included a community center building and a development fund of roughly $27,000 being used to build a new school and teachers' quarters. A palm oil processing center is also still under construction.
"The settlement was pretty good," Chief Nyamiketh said, crediting WACAM and CEPIL for their advice on the case. "If it had not been for WACAM, we would not have gotten any help, because it seems the government institutions are on the side of the mine companies."
Chief Nyamiketh said that they are even more pleased with the changed relationship with Gold Fields. "People are now better equipped to negotiate with the company," Chief Nyamiketh said, adding that the company now handles them differently also. "They were surprised we took them to court; they thought they would just ride over us. But we scared them...Now they know that this village took them to the high court, so when something happens, they react quickly because people here know their rights."
Chief Nyamiketh looked out the window of his house, into the daily afternoon downpour of a May afternoon, where the rain was smashing down into the red earth and thunder boomed in the distance. "It is a sign of respect," he said.
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