Earth’s Riches, Humanity’s Pain: The Endless Curse of Resources

Parambrahma Tripathy 

In 1621, the Banda Islands of Indonesia turned into a bloodbath. The Dutch East India Company, desperate to control nutmeg—a spice worth more than gold—killed almost all the native Bandanese people. Entire villages were wiped out, their culture erased, just so the Dutch could claim the islands’ riches. This wasn’t only colonial cruelty. It marked the beginning of the “resource curse,” a cruel twist where nature’s gifts bring misery instead of wealth. Today, from the cobalt mines of Congo to the coal fields of India, this curse still traps people in cycles of poverty, violence, and loss. The Banda Islands were an early warning—a lesson the world has yet to learn.

Resources can destroy a nation!

The Spanish Empire felt this curse centuries ago at Potosí’s Cerro Rico, a mountain in Bolivia overflowing with silver. They called it the “Rich Mountain,” but for the indigenous people, it was a death sentence. Eight million died in its tunnels, forced to mine silver that bankrolled Spain’s empire. The empire grew rich, but it ignored farming, trade, and other industries, depending only on the mountain’s wealth. When the silver ran out, Spain fell into poverty, its economy hollowed out. This was a hard lesson. Resources can destroy a nation from within if they become the only focus. The curse isn’t just about money—it’s about what’s lost along the way.

Africa lives this paradox in its rawest form today. The Democratic Republic of Congo has 70% of the world’s cobalt, a mineral worth $8 billion a year. Cobalt powers smartphones and electric cars, but the people of Congo see none of that wealth. The country ranks 179th in human development, one of the lowest in the world. In Kolwezi, 40,000 children work in dangerous mines, as reported by UNICEF. Fatalities in these mines rose 35% last year. Children as young as six dig with their bare hands, earning pennies a day, while their families struggle to eat. The land is rich, but the people are poor, their lives stolen by the very minerals that fuel global progress.

Who demand justice, often pay with their lives.

Nigeria tells a similar story. The country earns $46 billion a year from oil, yet 87 million Nigerians live in extreme poverty—the highest number in the world. In the Niger Delta, oil spills have poisoned the land and water. Since 2010, there have been 9,000 spills, contaminating 40% of farmland, according to NDES reports. Rivers run black, and people drink water laced with benzene, a chemical that causes cancer. When locals fight back, they face violence. Ken Saro-Wiwa, an activist who spoke for the Niger Delta’s people, was hanged in 1995 for protesting against oil companies. His death sent a chilling message—those who demand justice often pay with their lives.

India’s mineral-rich states suffer the same fate. Jharkhand holds 40% of India’s coal, worth $12 billion a year. This coal powers half of India’s industries, but the state remains a graveyard for its people. In Jharkhand, 37% of children suffer from stunted growth due to hunger. Poverty grips 40% of the population, even as mines expand, swallowing villages whole. Families lose their homes to mining projects, with no place to go. The National Human Rights Commission says 2.5 million Indians have been displaced by mining since 1950, but only 25% have been properly resettled. The promise of jobs and development never arrives—only hardship and broken dreams.

Odisha faces the same curse

Odisha, another mineral-rich state, faces the same curse. The state produces iron ore worth $5.3 billion a year, yet 45% of its tribal women suffer from anemia due to poor nutrition. Mining areas here have 28% more poverty than farming regions, according to government data. The Dongria Kondh tribe in Odisha’s Niyamgiri Mountains has seen their sacred lands torn apart for iron ore. Mining turns rivers red with pollution, leaving fields barren. The tribe fought back, and in 2013, they won a rare victory—the Supreme Court stopped a mining project by Vedanta Resources Ltd. But the threat remains. Mining companies still eye their mountains, ready to destroy their way of life for profit.

Tribal people in these states are often called the “sons of the soil.” They depend on the land for everything—food, medicine, shelter. But mining takes it all away. In Jharkhand, coal mines have eaten into forests, leaving tribes with nothing. Many are forced to work in the mines, breathing dust that makes them sick. In Odisha, the Kutia Kondh tribe has lost their forests to iron ore mining. They can no longer gather herbs or hunt, their self-sustaining life replaced by an industrial world they didn’t ask for. The emotional toll is heavy. Elders cry for the forests they can’t enter anymore. Parents struggle to feed their children, their hearts heavy with loss.

The resource curse follows a clear pattern. Corruption steals the wealth—30% to 40% of mining money disappears into offshore accounts, says the IMF in 2023. Countries that rely on minerals grow 2% to 3% slower than others, according to the World Bank. Violence often follows riches. In Congo, militias trade minerals for guns, fueling endless conflict. In India, mining injustices have sparked a rebellion in Jharkhand that has lasted decades, killing thousands. The system is broken, and the people pay the price.

To choose fairness over greed

But the curse isn’t inevitable. Botswana turned its diamond wealth into schools and hospitals, raising life expectancy from 54 to 69 years. Norway built a $1.4 trillion oil fund, giving each citizen $2,300 a year to secure their future. Chile used copper money to double university enrollment through education reforms. Even small wins matter, like the Dongria Kondh’s fight to save their mountain. These stories prove resources can lift people up, but only if leaders care about people more than profits. It takes courage to break the cycle, to choose fairness over greed.

The World Bank says 70% of people in resource-rich poor countries live worse lives than those in poorer but balanced economies. Countries earning $158 billion from minerals still have 60% of their people living on less than $2 a day. This isn’t chance—it’s a system that fails, measured in lives lost and dreams broken. We can change this. Ethical sourcing must be a rule, not a choice. The math is clear: resources plus corruption equals poverty. But if we add accountability, the equation can shift to hope.

Parambrahma Tripathy is an author and Communication for Development professional with over 18 years of experience. He has worked with organizations like BBC Media Action, Landesa, The Energy Policy Institute at the University of Chicago, IPE Global, and Coceptual Media. He has been recognized with several awards, including the prestigious Laadli Media and Gender Sensitivity Award in 2022 and 2023, Best Lyricist of the Year in 2022, Dr. Radhanath Rath Fellowship for Journalism, Kalinga Literary Youth Award, Timepass Bestseller Award, Srujan India Youth Award, Utkal Sahitya Samaj Felicitation and Odia Yuva Stambha Samman(2023)