The collapse of a coltan mine, the second after a few months, in the east of the Democratic Republic of Congo is not just the latest news coming from a tormented land: it is a deep wound that passes through entire communities and, whether you like it or not, also our lifestyle. Over 200 people lost their lives in Rubaya, in the North Kivu region, after the sudden collapse of a mine following heavy rains which made the ground even more unstable.
The information arrived slowly, fragmentary, as often happens in an area marked by armed conflict and today under the control of the M23 rebels. According to local rebel authorities, the death toll was difficult to establish immediately.
Many bodies remained buried under the earth, others were not identified for days. It is estimated that around twenty survivors are hospitalized, while dozens of families are still waiting for answers.
Local sources and a former mine supervisor, interviewed by the BBC, speak of a poorly maintained site, lacking controls and any safety standards. The soil, fragile by nature, was made even more dangerous by erosion and rain. Under these conditions, the collapse was not an unforeseeable accident, but a known and ignored risk.
Congolese authorities have pointed the finger at the rebels, accusing them of deliberately putting civilian lives at risk by allowing illegal mining. The Kinshasa government had officially banned mining in the area last year, but when the ban came into force the mines were now under the control of the M23.
In any case, this is not an isolated case: similar collapses have been repeated for years in the DRC, even in areas formally controlled by the Government. It is a structural problem, linked to poverty, instability, lack of rights and a global supply chain that continues to turn a blind eye.
Among the victims there are women, children and artisanal miners, people who are not employees of any company, who work without contracts, without protection, without alternatives. They descend every day into hand-dug pits to extract coltan, often accompanied by their children, because child labor in these areas is not the most tragic of normalities.
The coltan that fuels our well-being
Rubaya is not just any place: its mines concentrate around 15% of the world’s coltan supply and half of the DRC’s reserves. Coltan contains tantalum, a metal essential for producing high-performance capacitors used in smartphones, computers, cars, household appliances. In practice, part of the technology we use every day also originates here, from these hills dug with bare hands.
Since 2024, according to the United Nations, M23 has controlled mines and imposed taxes on mining to finance its work. The Congolese government openly accuses Rwanda of supporting the rebel group and benefiting from the plundering of natural resources. Kigali has always denied this, but UN experts say there is evidence of Congolese minerals passing through Rwanda to international markets.
In the statement released after the collapse, the DRC government speaks of a “structured system of plunder and illegal exploitation of natural resources”part of an industrial-scale illicit supply chain. Heavy words, which call into question political, economic and international responsibilities.
What happened in Rubaya cannot be dismissed as just an accident: behind every electronic device there is a story, and too often that story speaks of lives sacrificed, rights denied, communities impoverished. Telling these stories means giving a face and a voice to those who would otherwise remain invisible under the rubble of a mine and under the silence of the world.
As long as coltan continues to be mined under these conditions, and as long as “green” and digital technology ignores the human cost of its supply chain, tragedies like this will continue to happen. And we won’t be able to say we don’t know.
