The earth of North Kivu has once again closed in on those who dig it. On Tuesday, March 3, the Kasasa mining site, located in the Rubaya area (Masisi territory), was the scene of a devastating landslide. According to a preliminary report from local civil society, the disaster has claimed the lives of approximately 300 people .

Open-air horror

Telesphore Mitondeke, a representative of Masisi civil society, confirmed the scale of the disaster: “A devastating landslide struck the Kasasa site. The still-provisional death toll stands at nearly 300.” On the ground, rescue operations are progressing with alarming slowness. The fragility of the soil, exacerbated by unstable underground tunnels and torrential rains, makes every search perilous. The risk of further collapses weighs heavily on rescuers, raising fears of a rise in the number of deaths.

The price of "grey blood"

The Rubaya site is one of the world's main sources of coltan , a mineral essential to our modern technologies. The victims illustrate the diversity of this survival economy:

1. The artisanal miners: Convicts of the mine, plunging at the risk of their lives into precarious shafts.
2. Small traders: They came to supply the workers with food or fuel.
3. Passing civilians: Snatched by fate while they were traveling nearby.

A tragic and avoidable repetition

This tragedy comes barely a month after the disaster of January 29th , in which more than 400 lives were lost in similar circumstances. Despite repeated warnings from NGOs and experts about the lack of safety standards and the chaotic nature of the mining operations, nothing has been done to secure the land.

The observation is bitter: The combination of waterlogged soils, unsupported galleries and endemic poverty creates a permanent death trap.

Between national mourning and global indifference

While local authorities desperately call for strict regulation, the reality on the ground—marked by insecurity and the presence of armed groups—makes any reform complex. Meanwhile, global demand for coltan remains strong. Behind every smartphone, perhaps, lies the silence of the mass graves of Rubaya, a land that seems condemned to swallow its own children.