Message in a Mine: How storytelling can curb galamsey in Ghana

Beneath Ghana’s lush forests and rolling hills lie veins of gold that have long promised wealth and opportunity. Yet, the rush to seize this treasure too often takes a darker path: illegal mining, or “galamsey,” that scars the land, poisons rivers, and undermines communities.

Policies, patrols, and punitive measures have all played a role in the fight against galamsey, but a powerful tool remains underused: storytelling.

Weaving narratives that capture hearts and minds, we can spark deeper understanding, reshape attitudes, and inspire collective action to protect our land and our people.

At its heart, storytelling taps into something profoundly human. Before we were farmers or miners or engineers, we were listeners and storytellers. Across generations, Ghanaians have passed wisdom through folktales told by firelight, songs sung by riversides, and proverbs shared under shade trees.

These stories shape how we see the world. When we tell a story about a polluted stream, a lost fishing livelihood, or a child forced to leave school because their family’s land was ruined, we give a face and a name to what might otherwise feel like distant statistics.

Consider the tale of Ama, a young mother from a village near the Pra River. Once, she would collect water in clay pots to cook meals and bathe her children. Then, galamsey operations moved upstream. The river turned muddy and dark, its fish gone.

Ama’s youngest child fell sick with stomach pains. In a simple video narrative, just Ama speaking softly against the backdrop of the dirty water, the audience sees more than a picture. They will feel her fear, her loss, and her determination to fight back. Shared on social media, in community halls, and even on national television, Ama’s story will spark conversations that raw data cannot. People who might never visit her village will start to care about the fate of her river.

Storytelling works on multiple levels. First, it builds empathy. When we walk in another person’s shoes symbolically, through narrative, we feel a connection. Empathy moves us to listen, learn, and then act. Second, stories simplify complexity.

The causes and consequences of illegal mining can involve land rights, economic desperation, weak enforcement, and hidden financial networks. A well-crafted story can thread these strands into a coherent narrative that audiences of all backgrounds can grasp.

Third, storytelling invites participation. Whether through oral history sessions in rural schools, radio call-in programs, or interactive digital platforms, communities can share their own experiences, creating a chorus of voices united against galamsey.

How, then, can we harness storytelling more effectively? The first step is to center local voices. Too often, anti-galamsey campaigns rely on outside experts or government spokespeople. While they have an important role, the most authentic narratives come from those living with the consequences.

Local radio stations can host “galamsey diaries,” inviting affected farmers, fishers, and youth to share brief, heartfelt accounts of their daily struggles. These segments, airing in local languages, build trust and encourage listeners to reflect on their own choices.

Next, we should blend traditional and modern media. In northern Ghana, travelling puppet shows have long been used to teach public health lessons. A similar approach could dramatize the journey of a family uprooted by illegal mining, using local symbols and humour to hold attention. Meanwhile, short documentaries filmed on smartphones can be edited into compelling episodes for YouTube, Facebook, and Instagram. This dual approach ensures that storytelling reaches the elderly grandmother listening to her transistor radio and the urban youth scrolling on their phone.

Partnerships are vital. Environmental NGOs, journalism schools, and community theatre groups can pool resources and expertise. Imagine a weekend workshop where local actors, journalists, and villagers collaborate to script and perform a play about a young man tempted by the quick profits of galamsey, only to discover the true cost: polluted wells, lost school fees, and fractured friendships. Such a play, performed at market squares and festivals, can spark discussions, encourage peer-to-peer education, and even influence local chiefs and assembly members.