At dawn women miners gather at allocated sites along riverbanks in India’s coastal Andhra Pradesh state to oversee the process of dredging, loading and shipping sand. Credit: Stella Paul/IPS

By Stella Paul
GUNTUR, India, Aug 24 2015 (IPS)

Thirty-seven-year-old Kode Sujatha stands in front of a hut with a palm-thatched roof, surrounded by a group of men shouting angrily and jostling one another for a spot at the front of the crowd.

“When I worked in the farm, I was just another labourer. Here, I am in charge. People see my work and they also see me. It is a great feeling.” -- Yepuri Mani of the Undavalli women's mining group in Andhra Pradesh
Each of the boatmen, who carry sand mined from a nearby river to the shore every day, wants to be paid before the others.

Sujatha stares hard at them, holds up a piece of paper and says, “If you have a printed receipt of payment, come, stand in the queue. We will pay one by one. Shouting will not help you.”

This hard talk and show of nerves is a recurring part of the workday for Sujatha, a farm labourer-turned sand miner in Undavalli, a village situated on the banks of the Krishna River that flows through the coastal Guntur District of the southeastern Indian state of Andhra Pradesh.

She is one of the 18 women who run the Undavalli Mutually Aided Cooperative Society, an all-women’s collective in charge of dredging, mining, loading and selling sand.

Dealing with a few angry boatmen is not the last of her problems. Powerful ‘sand mafias’ that operate throughout the state are another force to be reckoned with, as are the lurking threats of environmental degradation and poverty in this largely rural state.

But Sujatha is determined to make this enterprise work. Overseeing the sustainable extraction and transportation of sand in this village has been her ticket to a decent wage and a degree of decision-making power over her own life.

She also knows that having women like her in charge of this operation is the best chance of avoiding the environmental catastrophes associated with unregulated sand mining, such as depletion of groundwater sources, erosion of river beds, increased flooding and a loss of biodiversity.

Rural women who have taken over sand mining operations in the southeastern Indian state of Andhra Pradesh are learning to use computers for the first time. Credit: Stella Paul/IPS

‘Rarer than one thinks’

Hard as it may be to fathom, sand is increasingly becoming a rare commodity as a result of the massive scale of its extraction and consumption worldwide.

In a 2014 report entitled ‘Sand: rarer than one thinks’, the United Nation’s Environment Programme (UNEP) revealed that sand and gravel (called aggregates) account for the largest share of the roughly 59 billion tonnes of material mined annually across the globe.

Combined aggregate use globally, including 29.5 billion tonnes of sand used annually in the production of cement for concrete, and the 180 million tonnes of sand guzzled by other industries every year, exceeds 40 billion tonnes per annum – twice the yearly amount of sediment carried by all the rivers of the world, according to the UNEP.

The most severe environmental consequences of the world’s insatiable appetite for sand include loss of land through river and coastal erosion resulting in the heightened risk of floods, especially around heavily mined areas; depletion of the world’s water tables; and a reduction in sediment supply.

Transporting aggregates is also a hugely carbon-heavy process, while the production of a single tonne of cement using sand and gravel releases 0.9 tonnes of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere.

Estimates from the Carbon Dioxide Information Analysis Center (CDIAC) suggest that the year 2010 saw 1.65 billion tonnes of carbon dioxide emissions from cement production – nearly five percent of total greenhouse gas emissions that year.

In India, a decades-long construction boom has driven a rapid increase in demand for sand, particularly in cement and concrete production.

The country currently boasts the third largest construction industry in the world, and huge sand mining operations, many of them unlawful or unregulated, are stripping the natural carpets of major riverbeds, deepening rivers and widening their mouths, and contaminating ground water sources.

Thus sand mining is contributing to India’s twin problems of flooding and water scarcity.

A grassroots solution to a global problem

For many years a quiet grassroots movement around the country had unwittingly been laying the foundation of what is now an entrenched network capable of fighting illicit mining: women-led self-help groups (SHGs) that have come together over a period of decades to pool their meager savings and generate interest-free micro loans to jump-start small businesses.

In Andhra Pradesh alone, an estimated 850,000 SHGs involving over 10.2 million poor, rural women have generated over 19 billion rupees (287 million dollars) in savings over the past decade.

Solomon Arokiyaraj, chief executive officer of the state-run Society for Elimination of Rural Poverty (SERP) tells IPS that SHGs’ proven track record of community finance and business management made them ideal partners in larger government schemes to both crack down on unsustainable natural resource extraction and alleviate rural poverty.

According to Arokiyaraj, women are now running 300 different mining sites (called ‘reaches’) across this state of 49 million people. A team comprising 10 or 12 people, who previously earned less than a dollar a day, runs each site on behalf of the government.

Venketeshwara Rao, a government official in Guntur District who oversees the project, tells IPS that the women of Undavalli village are licensed to operate within an eight-hectare area identified by federal environment authorities as part of de-siltation efforts around the reservoir.

At dawn every day the women gather at mining sites and at six am the mechanized dredging begins. Extracted sand is stockpiled on boats and then shifted to a fleet of waiting trucks, while excess water is pumped back into the river

“It takes three hours for the dredger to fill a boat. Each of the boats can carry 10 cubic meters of sand, enough to fill 20 large trucks,” Malleshwari Yepuri, a sand miner, tells IPS.

By Rao’s estimation, the women-led groups in the eight sand reaches in Guntur District alone have sold over a million cubic meters of sand since November 2014, amounting to some 70 million rupees (over a million dollars).

Prior to taking over management of the mines, the women had earned, on average, just under a dollar each a day as farm labourers. Now every woman miner takes home six dollars a day, and their respective cooperatives receive five rupees (0.07 dollars) for every cubic meter of sand mined under their leadership – a total of about 70,000 rupees (a thousand dollars) every year.

These illegal sand mining boats in India’s populous Andhra Pradesh state are becoming a rare sight after women’s self-groups took over mining operations last year. Credit: Stella Paul

Laws and loopholes

Blessed with two major river systems, the Krishna and the Godavari, Andhra Pradesh boasts a stunning range of biodiversity, from the unique flora and fauna found on the coastal mountain range of the Eastern Ghats to the tremendously fertile plains formed in the rivers’ basins.

But its biggest asset has also been a curse, and has long attracted the gaze of major players in the sand mining industry – many of them operating outside the ambit of the law.

Considered a ‘minor’ mineral, sand falls outside of the jurisdiction of the federal government, which limits its authority to the extraction and sale of ‘major’ minerals like coal, iron and copper.

Numerous Indian laws – from a February 2012 Supreme Court order to an August 2013 ruling by the National Green Tribunal, a federal environment conservation agency – have banned river sand mining without the necessary permit.

These orders notwithstanding, media reports have consistently drawn attention to the extraction activities of organised syndicates referred to as the ‘sand mafia’, allegedly responsible for removing truckloads of sand for a nifty profit from Andhra Pradhesh and elsewhere.

Many have reportedly mined without any government permission; others have systematically exceeded the volume specified, or encroached on areas outside the scope of their permits.

In April 2015, Andhra Pradesh Finance Minister Yanamala Ramakrishnudu told the local press that illicit sand miners had robbed the state of 10 billion rupees (150 million dollars) in the past 10 years.

Even with ample evidence on the destructive environmental impacts of sand mining, including a report by the Geological Survey of India warning against damages to in-stream flora and fauna and devastation of vegetative cover, the state government has been either unable or unwilling to curb the practice.

It was not until 2014, following an outcry by the federal government’s own mining ministry about the “menace” of illegal sand extraction, that Andhra Pradhesh cancelled all licenses issued under the 2002 Water, Land and Tree Act and handed power over to the women’s self-help groups.

SHGs, meanwhile, are under strict orders to ensure that mining happens only in those areas where massive silt-deposits are causing environmental stress, including over-sedimentation resulting in a reduction of the river’s holding capacity.

There are about 40 reservoirs in the state, some over a century old, which hold massive build-ups of sand. Undavalli village falls within one of these reservoirs – the Prakasam barrage, built in 1855, over the Krishna River – where sedimentation has been increasing at the rate of 0.5 percent to 0.9 percent every year, according to officials from the state’s irrigation department.

Still, licenses are not granted indefinitely – their duration fluctuates between two and 12 months, depending on the extent of sedimentation and the specific ecology of the area.

The work is not without its challenges. Women are learning how to digitize their operations (with some using computers for the first time), keep their proceeds safe and vigilantly monitor environmental degradation, all under the threat of reprisals from the sand mafia.

Add to this a full working day in 40-degrees-Celsius heat with little shade and no security and you have a task that not many would voluntarily sign up for; yet, few are complaining.

“When I worked in the farm, I was just another labourer,” Yepuri Mani of the Undavalli mining group tells IPS. “I was almost invisible. Here, I am showing others what to do. I am in charge. People see my work and they also see me. It is a great feeling.”

Putting women in charge is not a magic bullet for the ills of sand mining: the move does not tackle the looming issue of unsustainable global demand for sand that is driving major environmental destruction in India, and elsewhere in the world.

But having rural women at the helm of a hitherto male-dominated industry is certainly a major first step towards a more sustainable, grassroots-based economic model of carefully managing a limited and vital natural resource.

Edited by Kanya D’Almeida

A sand quarry Rhonda, Nakuru County, Kenya. Many of Kenya’s youth engaged in the industry, despite the deadly risks posed by collapsing mining walls due to poor sand harvesting methods. Credit: Robert Kibet/IPS

By Robert Kibet
NAKURU COUNTY, Kenya, Aug 6 2014 (IPS)

Allan Karanja, 22, is a sand harvester. His job is a complex and arduous one that involves him working in deep pits, equipped only with a shovel, crowbar and no protective gear, as he mines sand. It’s also a deadly occupation.

In Rhonda area, situated south of Nakuru town and next to Lake Nakuru National Park, in Kenya’s Rift Valley Region, is an area characterised by sprawling ramshackle settlements. Here hundreds of youth engage in sand mining, with the Ndarugu River, which flows into Lake Nakuru National Park, being the main site of sand harvesting.

Karanja tells IPS he’s seen many of the workers around him die when weakened steep walls collapse in the midst of excavation.

“Hunger is what drives us into these sand mines. We earn peanuts here despite the risks we undergo. We excavate sand without safety helmets,” Karanja says.

In 2010, Nakuru town, situated 160 km north-west of Kenya’s capital city Nairobi, was voted by United Nations Human Settlements Programme or U.N.-Habitat as the fastest-growing town in East and Central Africa. The new title resulted in a rush of investors to the area and a subsequent boom in construction industry – the main consumers of sand.

Rhonda is the leading source of sand in the entire Rift Valley Region, owing to its availability along the river bank. Here, sand mining dates back to the early 1980s.

Jackson Kemboi is an owner of a two-hectare sand quarry where two sand harvesters died when a wall collapsed last month. A father and son died when a wall collapsed killing them on the spot, which prompted Kemboi to close temporarily.

He tells IPS that sand mining in Rhonda provides employment to close to 3,000 people.

“This quarry has been in existence since the early 1980s. We do not have the capacity to employ those excavating sand on a monthly salary basis since as the owner I have to share the amount earned per seven-tonne lorry with all involved. These young men come on daily basis, engage in scooping and loading of sand and get their wage at the end of the day,” Kemboi says.

Kemboi says he charges Ksh. 5,000 (58 dollars) per seven-tonne truck of sand, with 20 percent of that sum being shared among sand miners, loaders and truck drivers as wages.

Jack Omare, a father of two, tells IPS he has been working on Kemboi’s sand mine since 1992. He says he’s escaped death thrice. The worst incident, he says, was when weak sand walls collapsed, pushing him and the truck driver into the Ndarugu River. Luckily, they both survived.

During the same month three others died when a wall collapsed in Kirinyaga of Meru County, Eastern Kenya.

Omare says on a normal day he earns a minimum of Ksh. 300 (three dollars). It’s a meagre amount, just enough to provide a meal for him, his wife and children.

Sand, a Burgeoning Industry

But sand in Kenya is becoming a necessary component in fuelling the construction boom that is driving the rapid pace of urbanisation and rapid economic growth patterns in Kenya.

The Kenya Economic Report 2013 by the Kenya Institute for Public Policy Research and Analysis predicted that the economy would grow by about 5.5 percent in 2013 and 6.3 percent in 2014, compared to 4.6 percent in 2012.

Anne Waiguru, a cabinet secretary in the Ministry of Devolution and Planning, tells IPS that Kenya’s urban population is growing at four percent per annum. It’s a situation, she says, that can be attributed to Kenya’s 2008 post-election violence as well as youth migrating from rural to urban areas in search of jobs.

But many of Kenya’s poor youth are turning to sand mining as a quick way of earning money, despite the deadly risks posed by collapsing mine walls due to poor sand harvesting methods.

And Karanja is among many youth facing exploitation in the industry.

According to Mary Muthoni, an official with local government child welfare, close to 3,000 youth, most of whom are under age, are involved in some of the worst forms of labour here, including sand mining.

An official with Kenya’s Child Welfare Society, a government agency, tells IPS that youth engaged in mining are exposed to toxic materials, which increase their chances of developing respiratory diseases.

Karanja says: “At 14, I would opt to miss classes at Kaptembwa primary school to go of loading sand into trucks to enable me purchase basic school items.” He quit school and did not even go to high school.

Environmental Degradation

In 2013, the National Environmental Management Authority (NEMA) ordered the closure of all sand mines in Nakuru as it emerged that mining was contributing to environmental degradation.

Sand mining in Nakuru, according to NEMA, has contributed to the siltation in River Ndarugu and also poses a threat to nearby public utilities and infrastructure such as roads and schools.

“The ban remains active. As an authority, we have no problem with effecting the law but we are considering lives of thousands of the youth who would remain jobless,” Wilfred Osumo, Nakuru’s NEMA director, tells IPS.

He says those who want to continue with the business, especially quarry owners, are required to apply for an environmental impact assessment license issued by NEMA at a cost of 0.1 percent of total project cost.

NEMA’s 2007 National Sand Harvesting Guideline stipulates that sand harvesting or scooping is restricted to river beds with no harvesting allowed on riverbanks to avoid widening of rivers.

“Sand harvesting in Rift Valley is done along the river beds, which is of poor quality as compared to earth sand mining in parts of Eastern Kenya namely Machakos, Kitui and Makueni,” Professor Jackson Kitetu, an environmental scientist specialising in sand harvesting research in Kabarak University, tells IPS.

His research study between 1993 and 1997 revealed that sand harvesting in Eastern Kenya provided jobs to 30,000 people.

And despite the risks associated with it, people will continue engaging in the industry.

Mike Mwangi, a licensed driver on the sand mines, tells IPS that it is his preferred source of income despite the challenges.

“I tried hawking fruits in the Nakuru town CBD but was frustrated by municipality officials. I had to quit and get back to this deadly job, sand harvesting,” he tells IPS.

Edited by: Nalisha Adams

The writer can be contacted at kibetesq@gmail.com or on twitter @Kibet_88

A sand mining site in Dominica. Credit: Desmond Brown/IPS

By Desmond Brown
CODRINTON, Barbuda, Jun 22 2013 (IPS)

Arthur Nibbs was known for his staunch opposition to sand mining in his homeland of Barbuda, a Caribbean island with dazzling white sand beaches that comprise most of its deserted coastline.

But Nibbs, the chairman of the Barbuda Council, has had a change of heart because of the economic hardships residents face here, he said.

He is dismissing warnings by environmentalists that sand mining has exceeded safe limits and that its continuation is placing Barbuda, the tiny island in the Antigua and Barbuda union, at ever-greater risk from storms and sea level rise.

“Reality has set in,” Nibbs told IPS, noting that the council is currently in deep financial trouble. “Our finances usually come from the central government,” he explained, but the government itself is in “a precarious situation”."Sand mining...is the only revenue source that we have."
-- Arthur Nibbs

“We are forced to continue…sand mining because that’s the only revenue source that we have, and we need to meet our obligations on a daily basis,” he said.

“Would you prefer to appear to be protecting the environment and then have your people going hungry with no food on their table and people can’t pay their bills?” he asked.

Barbuda, one of the lowest lying islands in the Caribbean, has been labelled as one of those most vulnerable to the effects of climate change, with local scientists complaining that the 62-square-mile island, made up of wetlands, is becoming one of the most vulnerable spots on earth with respect to the consequences of climate change.

A year ago, Nibbs criticised then-council chairman Kelvin Punter’s decision to resume sand mining as “foolishness”.

He is fully aware that he now appears to be flip-flopping on the subject.

“I’m sure the whole of Antigua and Barbuda is accustomed to hearing me talk about sand mining and the damage that it has done to the environment,” he agreed, noting that he had “every intention” of trying to move away from the practise.

“But that just was not possible,” he argued. “You have to take care of the people right now.”

Nibbs is not against a long-term development strategy for the island, but he says that “sitting down making up a development plan will not pay your bills” and that developing such a plan and finding ways to meet people’s daily needs must occur simultaneously.

He is optimistic that under his leadership Barbuda will pull itself out of this situation, and he pointed to planned development in the form of hotel resorts in about 18 months to two years.

“We do need something that can give us money quickly,” Nibbs said. “Sand mining is the only thing.”

Digging a deeper hole

But marine biologist John Mussington is worried Barbuda is digging its way off the planet.

“Where do they intend to get the sand from? Do they intend to dig such a hole that they sink Barbuda?” he questioned.

Sand mining here began in 1976 and by the mid-1990s, major environmental reports were warning that the extent of mining was causing irreparable damage.

“The fact of the matter is [that]…in 2006, the technicians from the environment division came to Barbuda and they were so shocked and appalled at the damage that was being done that they called for an immediate halt to sand mining,” Mussington told IPS.

The technicians said that in the long run, mining would expose Barbuda to many consequences of climate change, and they recommend that the island cease mining.

Following a 2006 cabinet decision, Mussington said, the technicians conducted surveys, and 103 acres were allocated for sand mining. But within a year and a half, those 103 acres were exhausted.

“Sand was supposed to be taken out following certain strict guidelines but the guidelines were never followed. The acreage given was exhausted.”

Calling large-scale sand mining a “destructive and irrational practice”, Eli Fuller, a marine environmentalist, offered alternatives means of income for Barbudans, including light tackle and deep-sea sport fishing.

Fuller added that cruise tourism could also be a source of income. “Many of the ships visiting some of the Caribbean’s most celebrated destinations anchor offshore and tender their guests to little docks on the mainland,” he said.

“Without any significant investment, this could happen in Barbuda almost immediately. One or two small ships a week could provide significantly more employment than the entire mining industry does in Barbuda,” Fuller added.

In the neighbouring island of Nevis, authorities have adopted a zero tolerance approach to sand mining.

Premier Vance Amory told IPS that the wellbeing of the island’s pristine environment is of utmost importance to his administration.

“The erosion of our coastline has cost us a loss of significant historical proportions,” he said. Illegal sand mining “reduces the beauty of the beaches”, which are critical for tourism, he said. It also leads to erosion and creates a situation that makes breaking the law more likely in other areas.

“We are intent as an administration on restoring respect for our environment,” Amory added.

The minister of agriculture in the Nevis Island administration, Alexis Jeffers, said sand mining is hurting marine life on the island.

“The sand is there for a reason,” he told IPS. “If we remove it, we remove a particular element of the ecosystem that would create problems for the future generations to come.”