A Lady Fell into a Galamsey Pit and Died , And I Can’t Stop Thinking About It
A few months ago, I was driving through a rural part of Ghana, one of those quiet towns where goats still outnumber people and time seems to move slower. I remember passing this massive pit on the side of a dirt road, maybe 20 feet deep. No warning signs. No barricades. Just there. Gaping. Dangerous. I thought to myself, “Someone’s going to fall in there one day.” I didn’t think it’d actually happen. And I definitely didn’t think I’d be writing about it now.
But here we are. A woman, someone’s sister, maybe someone’s mother or friend fell into one of those illegal mining pits, known here as a galamsey pit. And she didn’t make it out alive.
It’s one of those stories that hits you in the gut. Not because it’s the first time something like this has happened (it’s not), but because, it keeps happening. Over and over. And somehow, we’re still not doing enough to stop it.
The Part That Stings the Most
I don’t know her name. I wish I did. It would make this more personal. But I do know she didn’t deserve to die that way, alone, probably terrified, in a hole carved out of greed and desperation.
Honestly, it’s hard not to feel angry. Angry at the system. At the silence. At the way these pits are left abandoned like wrappers on a roadside used and tossed.
And yet, I also feel helpless. Like, what am I supposed to do? Share a post on Facebook? Write an article (well, here I am)? Yell into the void?
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Let’s Be Real—This Isn’t Just About One Pit
The galamsey issue in Ghana isn’t new. We’ve talked it to death in church groups, WhatsApp forums, and radio . But talk hasn’t done much. These pits keep popping up like acne on a teenager’s forehead, angry, ugly, and hard to ignore.
And people keep falling in. Literally and metaphorically.
I mean, think about it. Communities are falling in schools collapsing, water poisoned, farmlands destroyed. Generations of children growing up thinking this is normal.
It’s not.
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Why Did She Have to Die?
I’ve asked myself that so many times. Could it have been prevented? Was she just walking home from work? Taking a shortcut? Was it dark?
(That’s the worst part you start imagining the last few minutes of her life, and it messes with your head.)
In my experience, things like this don’t usually happen in isolation. There’s always a chain: lack of enforcement, community silence, political inertia, poverty, pick your poison.
But one thing is always constant: someone pays the price.
This time, it was her.
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What Do We Even Do?
Honestly, I don’t have a grand solution. I’m not a policymaker or a mining expert. But I do know this: ignoring the problem isn’t working. Neither is pretending galamsey is someone else’s headache.
Maybe we start small. Like demanding that abandoned pits get filled. Or making noise when new ones show up. Or asking questions when the news cycle moves on.
Because the truth is, that lady? She could’ve been anyone. Your aunt. My cousin. A friend’s mom. The woman who sells waakye by the roadside every morning.
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One Last Thing…
I don’t want this to be just another “sad Ghana story.” I want it to matter. I want someone to feel this and do something even if it’s just talking about it more honestly. With less politics and more heart.
So, let me ask you something:
How many more have to fall before we finally start to climb out of this hole we've dug for ourselves
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A Lady Fell into a Galamsey Pit and Died , And I Can’t Stop Thinking About It
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