Keypoints:
- Illegal mining drives youth into Comoe Park
- Gold rush fuels trafficking and corruption
- Calls grow for reform amid mass joblessness
IN Cote d’Ivoire’s remote northeast, the protected Comoe National Park has become the unlikely stage for a desperate gold rush. For many young men in the impoverished Bounkani region, illegal gold mining offers the only escape from joblessness — and the chance to strike it rich overnight.
Emmanuel, once deeply involved in the illicit trade, knows the allure well. ‘Young people come back from the park with enough money to buy motorcycles or even build their own houses,’ he told AFP.
Armed with cheap metal detectors, the prospectors dig through the forest soil, often up to a metre deep. ‘Sometimes you find iron, things of no interest. If you’re lucky, it’s gold! Then you dig some more, and you can earn a lot,’ Emmanuel said.
With gold prices hitting record highs globally, the illegal trade has become one of the few sources of quick cash in the northeast. But the boom is also feeding criminal networks and jihadist financing in the wider Sahel, according to an AFP report.
From sanctuary to survival zone
Once one of West Africa’s largest and most biodiverse nature reserves, Comoe National Park has suffered years of degradation. When Cote d’Ivoire’s first civil war broke out in 2002, park rangers fled as rebels seized control of the region.
‘Before the war, no one here talked about gold,’ Emmanuel recalled. ‘It was something only the Burkinabes did. But when the rangers left, everyone rushed in. The Burkinabe miners showed us how to use metal detectors.’
Poachers and gold miners quickly formed an uneasy alliance, sharing camps deep in the forest for weeks at a time. By the time peace returned in 2011 and state authority was restored, the damage to the park’s fragile ecosystem was already severe.
Despite efforts to restore order, artisanal mining continues in secret. Rangers conduct regular patrols, but the 1.1-million-hectare park is vast and difficult to monitor. Offenders face up to two years in jail and stiff fines, yet arrests remain rare.
Emmanuel said miners often receive advance warnings about patrol routes. ‘Some guards tell us which areas they’ll check. Everyone gets their cut,’ he admitted.
Youth trapped by poverty
In towns like Doropo and Bouna, the illegal gold trade has become the backbone of the local economy. ‘Here, everyone’s into gold,’ said Angeline Som, who leads a women’s rights group in Doropo. ‘Most young people are illegal prospectors. Otherwise, they’re unemployed or turn to theft at night.’
Hermann Dah Sie, a journalist based in Bouna, near the borders with Ghana and Burkina Faso, said the region offers few other opportunities. ‘Besides gold, there’s nothing for young people here. Just civil service jobs and the informal sector,’ he told AFP.
The risks, however, are immense. ‘If you get lost in the park, you’re dead,’ Emmanuel said. ‘Without food or water, with all the animals, you’ll disappear forever. Many have been killed by snakes or buffaloes, or trapped in ravines. If you injure yourself, no one will carry you home.’
Despite the dangers, many keep returning, driven by sponsors who bankroll the operations. These financiers supply food, fuel and metal detectors in exchange for a large share of the profits. ‘The sponsors take about 70 percent of the gold, leaving 30 percent for the digger,’ Emmanuel explained.
Once extracted, the gold is traded in nearby Bouna, a crossroads town linking Cote d’Ivoire with Burkina Faso and Ghana. Demand comes from across West Africa, with networks stretching far beyond local borders.
Calls for a new approach
As the crisis deepens, locals are calling for the government to consider a new approach. Some community leaders argue that small-scale mining should be legalised or regulated, as in Burkina Faso, to create jobs while protecting the park.
‘If the government doesn’t provide alternatives, young people will keep digging,’ said Som. ‘They need work, not punishment.’
But environmentalists warn that legalising artisanal mining could devastate the park’s delicate ecosystems, threatening endangered species and reversing years of conservation work.
Caught between survival and sustainability, authorities face an unenviable dilemma. For now, Comoe National Park remains a battleground between law enforcement and desperation.
Emmanuel, who has since abandoned mining, said he now tries to warn others away. ‘We have to tell young people there are too many risks. It’s not worth it,’ he said.
Still, for hundreds of young Ivorians, the promise of gold buried beneath the soil is too powerful to resist — a fleeting chance to rewrite their fortunes in one of the most forgotten corners of the country.
