By Andrew Walker
BBC News, Kafanchan
The men shout, bicker and quarrel as they set about tearing apart the side of a hill.
They hack at the red soil with picks and shovels, fill bags and take them down the hill to a stream where they soak the clay in the water until only a handful of dark granules are left.
The granules are tin, and these men are mining it illegally near Kafanchan, Kaduna state, northern Nigeria.
Tin used to be a major earner for the country.
Several multi-national companies mined tin on the Jos Plateau until the industry was nationalised in 1972.
Now there are few mining companies operating in Nigeria at all.
For years foreign investment has been dissuaded from coming to Nigeria because of a fear that any successful mine would simply be taken from the company.
But minerals are still mined here, sack by sack, with picks and shovels.
The life of an outlaw miner is hard and full of uncertainty.
Ibrahim Musa is 51. He has been a miner for most of his life.
"I don't know anything else," he says.
"Sometimes we work 24 hours digging. I have five young children and I hope they never have to do this in their lives."
On the other end of the scale, Almaziru is 15.
"I've been doing this since I was able to walk. I go to school during the day and then go to work with my brothers. It means we can eat well."
Arguments
"These men are really just criminals," says miner Luke Lancaster.
"They nominated me as their leader to settle disputes, otherwise they would end up killing each other over little arguments."
The group of about 40 men and boys are attacking the hill with gusto.
Every five minutes it seems, they stop to have an argument about where to dig next.
They're digging out the heavy soil where the concentrations of tin are highest.
About 30 yards away is a scar in the earth where the gang dug up 20 tons of tin a week previously.
They sold their haul to middlemen for 35,000 naira ($297) per bag, the same amount as many civil servants get paid in a month.
Some of the diggers sold as many as 15 bags, netting them $4,449, a huge amount for two-weeks' work.
"When we finish and get paid most of these men will go and spend the money straight away," says Mr Lancaster.
"These boys really know how to drink. Me? I might find myself a pretty girl when we get paid."
Bribes
As well as violent squabbles between miners, they risk having their claims taken away from them violently by others.
"Our so-called leaders in Kaduna sent soldiers down to us to take away our tin," says Mr Lancaster.
"We settled [bribed] them with 6,000 naira ($50) and they went away."
He says they will probably come back soon for more money.
But Mr Lancaster and his miners are not the only ones being preyed upon in this deal.
Walking among the miners, nervously brandishing a machete, is David, the farmer who normally works the land they are tearing up.
They arrived on his land in the middle of the night, and he had no choice but to let them carry on.
"I'm very scared," he told the BBC as he monitored the area he has allowed the men to dig.
If the miners make a lot of money, and the government gets to hear about it, he fears he could lose his land forever.
He hopes to get a cut of the proceeds of the dig, but he might be out of luck.
His neighbour was paid nothing out of the miners' last haul.
Nigeria's earth is rich with minerals which are not being exploited, except by these rogue diggers.
In the capital Abuja, the Ministry of Mines and Steel recognises it is a problem.
The country now has legislation to protect registered miners' claims which it did not have before, spokesman Clinton Oni says.
But for the diggers the expense and complexity of getting a mining licence as well as their mistrust of the government will probably prevent them from applying.
And until the government's resolve to protect investment is trusted, it is likely that illegal miners like Luke Lancaster will be the only ones trying to tap Nigeria's solid mineral wealth.
^ Back to top | BBC Sport Home | BBC Homepage | Contact us | Help | ©
~RS~q~RS~~RS~z~RS~40~RS~)