BONYO'S BONE: Gold - mind the poor too

In West Pokot County, 12 women and three men died after rocks came crashing down at Romo Hills in Kasei.

Hundreds of kilometers away in Ogago Village, Bondo, Siaya County, three miners died when a gold shaft collapsed. Three days later, barely three kilometers from that same scene, another miner was electrocuted inside a shaft in Barchando Village, also in Bondo.

Yet somehow, the country continues to treat these tragedies as isolated accidents instead of what they really are, failure in government systems.

The truth is, these are only the deaths that made it to the headlines. Industry insiders say many more go unreported, and deliberately so.

Deaths caused by toxic gas exposure, poor ventilation, tunnel collapses, flooding, underground entrapment and unsafe night mining rarely make the news.

Why? Because many of these mines operate illegally and, in such environments, silence is often cheaper than accountability. Families settle the fatalities in silence as the mines reopen the next morning.

Available reports indicate that more than 100 people have died in mining-related incidents across Kenya over the last three years. But the real figure is likely much higher, insiders insist.

Kenya is richly endowed with gold deposits, especially in Migori County, Kakamega County, Siaya County, Narok County, Turkana County and West Pokot County. Yet many mining sites in these regions remain illegal, unlicensed and dangerously unregulated.

Here lies the hypocrisy. Officially, the government says illegal mining is banned. But if you take a drive through these counties, you will find operations running openly and smoothly in broad daylight as if the law itself took a sabbatical.

This then begs the question, if these mines are illegal, how are they functioning so comfortably, so brazenly?

The answer is simple, somebody is looking away.

Both levels of government, county and national, have failed, and their enforcement pattern is painfully predictable.

When things are calm, illegal mining flourishes uninterrupted. When tragedy strikes, officials arrive to issue warnings, suspend operations, pose for cameras, promise investigations, then disappear, until the next collapse and the next funeral.

Meanwhile, mine owners continue growing rich while poor Kenyans descend daily into death pits in search of a living.

For elected leaders, many have gone silent, only appearing to defend rogue mining cartels rather than demanding accountability. Others only rediscover compassion when television cameras arrive. They cry louder than the bereaved, then vanish once the headlines fade. Such a performance.

But this crisis goes beyond deaths. Illegal mining is swallowing productive farmland. Entire communities are abandoning agriculture for dangerous quick money. Schools are recording alarming dropout rates as pupils chase survival underground.

What should have been an economic opportunity is now a full-blown social disaster.

The blood on these mining shafts cannot be separated from the failure of county and national government oversight. Regulation must not only appear when bribes are needed or when bodies are pulled from collapsed tunnels.

It must be constant, consistent and uncompromising.

Whether the mine is large-scale or artisanal, safety rules must apply equally.

Poor Kenyans should not have to choose between two options, mine and live by luck, or mine and die to be forgotten.

That is my bone tonight.