Ghostly echoes of ruined lives in DRC jungle

[dArKeR]

By Kate Holt and Sarah Hughes


The planes swoop down, sometimes as many as 15 a day. Most are battered and rusty. They land on the makeshift airstrip, a dusty road 20km from Walikale in the east of the Democratic Republic of Congo.

By the road is a group of young soldiers wearing a motley collection of camouflage uniforms, multicoloured hats and white wellington boots. They lean on their AK-47 rifles, smoking and watching another group of men trudging to and from the planes under the hot sun, carrying heavy white sacks filled with a valuable cargo.

Under the soldiers' watchful eyes, the men load the planes. No one speaks, partly from fear, partly because this is hard, desperate work. Each bag weighs 50kg. For these ordinary-looking sacks contain cassiterite - the expensive mineral ore from which tin is extracted.

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