beverly ndifoin
mandela washington fellow | notre dame university
in peru’s amazon jungle of madre de dios (meaning mother of god), two worlds of gold mining exist side by side.
in one world, artisanal and small-scale gold miners (asgm) use toxic mercury that contaminates rivers and soils, poisons the fish — their main protein source, and threatens their health. even if the miners avoid inhaling mercury vapors during the gold extraction process, they will still likely consume it by eating contaminated fish from local waters, according to claudia vega, coordinator of the mercury program at the center for amazonian scientific innovation (cincia) in madre de dios, creating an inescapable cycle of poisoning.
in another world, women like señora griselda zubizarreta and señora lucila huanca are demonstrating that economic necessity does not always have to conflict with environmental stewardship. they have stopped using mercury in their mining efforts, started selling mine waste (typically fine stones) as construction material, and are finding ways to regenerate the degraded lands. trees are replanted in their closed mines and supplementary livelihood options, such as cattle grazing and fish farming, are being explored.
these women are setting an example for the rest of the women-led mining concessions — a permit or contract that gives private companies the rights to extract minerals from public lands — in madre de dios, which account for approximately 30% of all mining concessions in peru, as reported by the united nations department of economic and social affairs. experts like gabriela vizcarra-guerra, a scientist with the wyss academy, see tremendous potential in these women-led initiatives, especially given the fact that the artisanal and small scale mines alone account for 38% of the global mercury emissions.
mercury, an incredibly toxic chemical that can be dangerous to humans, isn’t just found in old school thermometers. vega’s research has uncovered that mercury is found in dangerously high quantities in animals across mainland south america. “for example, (in one measurement of a) green kingfisher, we registered 72 parts per million,” she said, comparing that figure to a mean of just five parts per million in non-continental areas.
this finding is particularly alarming because mercury isn’t just any pollutant; it’s a neurotoxin with devastating effects. “mercury is one of the 10 most toxic substances,” vega said. “it can cross the placenta and affect fetal development, leading to severe deformities.”
cincia’s work has been groundbreaking for the region. “before that, any mercury sample had to be sent to lima or outside peru,” she said. “there was no capacity to do mercury analysis here. so this was the first thing that the program did, building local capacity.”
this research underscores why mercury-free mining practices represent such a critical innovation. “mercury is a liquid metal; it cannot just be easily destroyed,” vega said. “you can neutralize it by bonding it with something like sulfur, but it will stay there unless properly managed.”
the program has extended beyond research to practical interventions. “we worked with communities to identify fish with lower mercury levels and explored alternative food sources to reduce exposure,” vega said, highlighting the importance of community engagement in addressing environmental health issues.
standing on her family ranch in madre de dios, señora griselda zubizarreta points to her pastures where healthy cattle now graze on nutrient-rich grasses. just four years ago, the picture was dramatically different. zubizarreta and her sister, upon the death of her father and brother — the male pillars of the family business, faced a daunting inheritance: a struggling cattle operation with depleted soil and malnourished animals, alongside a small-scale mining operation fraught with security concerns.
“i started crying in the field because i didn’t know what to do,” zubizarreta said. “my father ran the cattle business. when he left us, it was different. i had to manage the business to survive.”
community expectations were not particularly encouraging. “people didn’t think we could sustain the legacy,” she said. “they didn’t believe women could succeed in the industry that my father had built.”
rather than retreating from this challenge, zubizarreta leaned in, seeking knowledge that would allow her to maintain and transform her inheritance. “i can’t let this go,” she said. “even though it was tough, i felt i had to carry on what he left behind.”
zubizarreta’s operation bridges two sectors often positioned as antagonists: extractive mining and regenerative agriculture. though fraught with challenges, the mining operation provides essential financial support during lean seasons in the agricultural calendar.
“we used the income from mining to strengthen the cattle business,” she said. “now, we reinvest the revenue from the cattle back into improving the farm.”
the mining side of her business isn’t without significant concerns. security threats loom large in a region known for its conflicts over gold extraction. zubizarreta said that “mining is risky and stressful. when we go to the mining site, we know that anything can happen to us.”
her team has transitioned to mercury-free extraction methods such as gravimetric tables, which use gravity to separate heavier material from lighter ones. this contributes to the preservation of soil health across the region.
zubizarreta’s business is among those who are a part of a critical shift in mining practices in this region where mercury pollution has historically contaminated waterways and fish populations, according to the national institute of health. this evolution toward more sustainable mining practices represents a rare bridge between immediate economic necessity and long-term environmental health.
despite her progress, zubizarreta’s aspirations lie far beyond mining. “in the future, i’d like to expand into something easier and more secure,” she said, considering her long-term future.
while zubizarreta seems to have found her niche in regenerative agriculture, señora lucila huanca is leading restoration efforts within her mining concessions and exploring fish farming as a complementary livelihood option.
unlike most mines in the region, which operate informally and illegally according to huanca, her determination to mine responsibly led her to embark on a grueling nine-year journey to formalize her operations. from 2010 to 2019, huanca navigated a labyrinth of unclear regulations, expensive environmental impact studies, and bureaucratic roadblocks. research shows that many miners in peru face rejection even after completing the required steps, leading to frustration and financial loss and even more scrutiny after formalization.
“we started in 2010 and only fully reached formal status in 2019,” she said, describing how she had to invest the equivalent of three kilograms of gold, worth well over $100,000, just to purchase her 300-hectare (approximately 741 acres) concession. “there were many instances where we paid for inspections, only to be rejected and forced to start over again.”
the formalization process required multiple environmental impact assessments, water and soil analysis, and hiring engineers to prepare technical documentation, each step costing thousands of dollars with no guarantee of success.
this costly process reflects a paradox in peru’s approach to regulating small-scale mining: the barriers to becoming legal are so high that they inadvertently incentivize continued illegal operations.
“being formalized seems worse than being informal,” huanca said. “we face higher costs, with no incentives to make it worthwhile.”
huanca’s commitment to producing “ecological gold,” processed without harmful mercury, represents both environmental innovation and economic sacrifice in a market that doesn’t yet fully reward sustainability.
“we don’t use mercury anymore. we’ve proven it’s possible to mine responsibly, even if it’s not easy,” she said, despite facing a complex web of economic and regulatory challenges that often punish those trying to do the right thing.
the financial implications of her choice are significant. “the green gold is less attractive for people to buy,” she said. “it doesn’t look as clean as gold processed with mercury, and it’s more expensive to produce.” she argues that this creates a perverse market incentive where ethical practices come with substantial economic penalties.
these market barriers are compounded by regulatory frameworks that seem to hinder legitimate operations while allowing illegal ones to flourish.
“we are supervised and threatened with punishment for any environmental issue. we must pay officials to come inspect twice a year. if not, it’s another fine. meanwhile, informal miners operate with relative impunity, creating an uneven playing field,” huanca said.
environmental challenges further complicate her efforts. climate change has intensified the region’s rainy season, preventing work for up to four months yearly. “from december until april, we cannot work because of heavy rains,” huanca said. “but, environmental risk assessments don’t take this into account. there’s no flexibility to understand that we’re paying fees even when we’re not working.”
perhaps most frustrating is the lack of distinction between responsible and irresponsible mining operations. “they put all miners in the same bag. there’s no clear distinction between those of us trying to do things right and those who aren’t,” she said.
this stigmatization extends beyond local perceptions. as ronny condor from the wyss academy, an environmental research organization, points out: “it’s not just the local view of madre de dios as a dangerous region; it’s the international perception as well. this reputation discourages investors and complicates efforts to market clean gold and other products from the region.”
despite these challenges, huanca persists, driven by deeper values. “it’s out of love for our employees and their families that we continue trying to innovate,” she said, embodying the difficult but essential transition toward sustainable mining practices in a system that has yet to fully value them.
huanca has embraced reforestation and pisciculture, or the breeding of fish, on her previously mined lands, a rarity in a region where abandoned mining sites typically remain barren for decades. “we replant the land after mining, using native vegetation to recover the soil,” she said with optimism. “when you see the microorganisms returning, it gives me joy because it shows the land is healing.”
zubizarreta and huanca’s stories highlight the growing role of women in peru’s mining sector. as a member of a women’s mining network called the regional network of asm women for madre de dios (red regional de mujeres mape responsable de madre de dios), zubizarreta said, “our goal is to encourage others to face these challenges and fight. it doesn’t matter if we’re fighting against the current. we have to stand together to be heard.”
through women’s networks, miners gain access to training, technical support, and the solidarity needed to navigate complex regulatory environments. “i understand that through a group of people, we can knock on the door of the state,” huanca said.
stakeholders working in madre de dios affirm that the way forward is to invest in formalization, eliminate mercury, rehabilitate mined lands, and support miners in identifying and implementing complementary livelihood activities. several innovations show promise:
as global demand for rare earth minerals continues to grow, especially those needed for renewable energy technologies, finding sustainable extraction models becomes increasingly urgent. the experiences of women miners in madre de dios suggest that solutions may not come only from outside regulators but from committed insiders willing to transform their industry from within.
acknowledgement: this story was curated with information from a university of notre dame-sponsored research trip to madre de dios, peru, as part of the regenerating ecologies and economies livelihoods lab led by professor richard “drew” marcantonio in partnership with the keough school of global affairs and cincia (amazonian center for scientific innovation). the interviews included here were translated from spanish and verified to be accurate by señora marta torres, outreach and education team lead at cincia.
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