I was born in a peaceful Goma in the eastern part of what is now the Democratic Republic of Congo, before the security situation deteriorated – largely due to the global demand for strategic minerals essential for high-tech industries, many of which are found in this region. The MIKUBA film project began as a personal journey, sparked by a profound question after witnessing endless wars, genocide, ecocide, and the systemic plundering of natural wealth through a brutal, extractive global network: Is ethical mining truly possible? The term “ethical mining” intrigued me, particularly when juxtaposed with the word “exploitation.” How can the exploitation of land ever be ethical?
How can the exploitation of land ever be ethical?
This question led me to Kolwezi, accompanied by my friend Shawn Escoffery from the Disney Family Foundation and some members of the Basandja Coalition of Indigenous Peoples and Local Communities for Sustainable Management of the Congo Basin. Our initial visit revealed the devastating realities of artisanal and small-scale miners caught in a relentless struggle with multinational corporations. These corporations, driven by profit, displace local communities and fortify mining sites to restrict access. On one particular day, we found ourselves in the midst of a violent clash between artisanal miners, who were striking and resisting, and the Congolese police and military, who were defending the interests of these multinational corporations. Stones flew, gunfire erupted, lives were lost, and our car was caught in the chaos. Miraculously, we escaped unharmed, but the experience left an indelible mark.
This harrowing moment deepened my resolve to return to Kolwezi – with Shawn’s continued support – and explore whether artisanal miners could reimagine mining practices rooted in shared community values and regenerative thinking informed by ancestral knowledge. As I delved deeper, I discovered systemic barriers designed to keep Congolese miners from advancing beyond rudimentary techniques.
MIKUBA is a call to reimagine what is possible when we engage ancestral ecology and Indigenous justice in the conversation about resource exploitation.
The mining laws compound this injustice, as explained by Maman Tshilefe Muvuloka, the coordinator of the Women’s Coopérative d’Exploitant Miniére Maendeleo, who revealed:
“There are specific articles in the law that state that areas with low mineralization should be allocated to mining cooperatives. These cooperatives, rooted in the local community, strive to ensure that the community benefits from its own natural resources. However, areas with high mineral content are allocated to external investors. How can we develop sustainably under such a framework?
We are expected to transition from small-scale mining to larger industrial operations, yet the areas allocated to local cooperatives have low mineral content. For example, can a site with shallow deposits, only reaching 30 meters deep, provide the resources needed to build a factory? Absolutely not. This means that local efforts are undermined while areas with high mineral potential are handed over to investors.
This system inherently places Congolese miners and communities at a disadvantage, relegating them to minor role players while so-called investors reap the majority of the benefits. This is where the core of the problem lies.”
This film is more than a story; it is a trust and a privilege granted to me by the artisanal miners who welcomed me into their world. Their trust allowed me to tell this story from within the community, offering not just a human perspective but also one that incorporates the land and all the living entities (the Basandja). This intimate access enabled me to craft a narrative that engages the audience in a reflection – one that begins in the cinema room but extends to the field and the community, inspiring concrete actions and the imagination of possibilities beyond the systems of normalized violence.
MIKUBA is an attempt to amplify voices often silenced and it is a call to reimagine what is possible when we engage ancestral ecology and Indigenous justice in the conversation about resource exploitation.
Petna Ndaliko Katondolo
