Miners pull up a bag of cobalt their colleague is digging underground inside the CDM Kasulo mine.
Sebastian Meyer for Fortune

Photographing Congo's Cobalt Empire

Photojournalist Sebastian Meyer spent six days photographing the mines, the people and the cobalt.
September 7, 2018

When photojournalist Sebastian Meyer stepped outside Lubumbashi International Airport in the Democratic Republic of Congo, he was greeted with a picture of a former president saying “Ne jamais trahir le Congo,” which translates to “never betray Congo.”

“That was perfectly symbolic of the attitude there and what we were about to get into,” Meyer tells Fortune.

For Vivienne Walt’s Fortune magazine story “Blood, Sweat and Batteries,” Meyer and Walt traveled to the DRC, as it’s known, to report and photograph the world’s largest supply of cobalt, an essential mineral found in the rechargeable batteries of our phones, tablets, and electric vehicles. The Congolese dig for cobalt, then sell it to (typically) Chinese middlemen, who then transport it back to their home country for use in the electronic devices we are now dependent on.

The Congolese government heavily restricted their access, giving clearance only to its flagship site, called the Kasulo Mine. Meyer expected the proud jewel to be a façade of greatness with large modern equipment, safety hats, and everything up to code.

“Not even close,” Meyer says. “It was total pandemonium and total chaos in there.”

Inside the Kasulo mine, which is owned by the DRC government and run by China’s Congo Dongfang International Mining, or CDM.
Sebastian Meyer for Fortune magazine

Meyer observed people digging and scrambling across the dirt by holding onto handmade ropes, which were made from tying ripped burlap sacks together. Workers hacked away at the dirt with a piece of broken rebar or a sharpened piece of metal. The only thing keeping the ant-like holes from collapsing were the sandbags surrounding them. Everyone wore the clothes they showed up in, the photographer says—no gloves, shoes, or hard hats to speak of. The photograph above reveals just a fraction—Meyer estimates one-sixteenth—of the entire Kaluso Mine.

“Everything is done with the most basic means possible,” he says. “There isn’t modern anything, just very primitive.”

A young miner digs for cobalt inside CDM's Kasulo mine.
Sebastian Meyer for Fortune magazine
Miners pull up a bag of cobalt their colleague is digging underground inside CDM's Kasulo mine.
Sebastian Meyer for Fortune magazine
A miner pushes a bicycle without pedals piled with sacks of cobalt from a mining pit to the depot inside the Kasulo mine.
Sebastian Meyer for Fortune magazine

Meyer met countless children carrying 30 pounds or more of cobalt on their backs, transporting the material from the mining sites to a depot where it gets valued and sold and back again. He photographed an 11-year-old who had been transporting bags of cobalt on his back all day.

“I have a 10-year-old nephew, so it takes no leap of imagination to think of some child you know who shouldn’t be doing this type of job,” he says.

Daniel (11) carries a bag of cobalt on his back. He works in a mine ferrying sacks of cobalt to a depot.
Sebastian Meyer for Fortune magazine

A key theme of the cobalt story is the persistence of child labor. Another is the economics and geopolitical ramifications of the business. During his trip, Meyer witnessed a key scene to understanding how cobalt gets from Congolese hands to the Chinese.

A miner holds chunks of cobalt he has dug out at the Kasulo mine near Kolwezi in the DRC.
Sebastian Meyer for Fortune magazine

He traveled to the Musompo Market, an area that he was originally told to not step foot in. (Officials demanded that he provide a copy of his credentials to gain access to the area.) Miners wheeled pounds of cobalt down a road lined on both sides with depots ready for the Chinese traders to value the mineral.

“Journalistically speaking, the photos from Musompo Market are the most important scene, because it shows the exact transition of the cobalt from the Congolese to Chinese.”

Cobalt buyer Xu Bin Liu, 30, from Hebei province in China, tests the purity of cobalt he’s buying at the Musompo market on the outskirts of Kolwezi.
Sebastian Meyer for Fortune magazine

It’s not uncommon that violence breaks out after the cobalt is valued. A few days before Meyer arrived, a Chinese middleman was publicly beaten to death over a value disagreement.

In a permeating culture of aggression and violence, Meyer knew his six-day reporting journey would be testing the patience of the authorities. “We got what we got and we discovered what we were able to discover with persistence,” he says. “We were told ‘no’ so many times in so many different ways. But the key to this story was to not take no for an answer.”

Word spread fast when Walt and Meyer were in an area they didn’t get explicit clearance for. They spent one afternoon with child miners in a local village but after a few hours, the authorities were alerted and they were ordered to leave.

(L) Thomas Muyumba (16) used to work in a cobalt mine, but is now on an [f500link]Apple[/f500link] funded apprenticeship. His friend, (R) Lukasa (15) continues to work in a cobalt mine.
Sebastian Meyer for Fortune magazine

“Being there made someone nervous enough that they had to threaten us,” he says. “There’s a type of fear everyone is living under.”

As a photojournalist, Meyer tries to show a problem to his audience, then offer a solution. The Fortune assignment was challenging, he says, because the problem was so vast and the solutions so difficult to show. If you have a rechargeable battery, his photos show what it takes to make it possible.

A miner crushes cobalt that will be tested for purity at the Kasulo mine depot.
Sebastian Meyer for Fortune magazine

“We have not engaged with Africa on an economic level, but China has invested and engaged,” he says. “Pulling back from the world is not just bad in terms of our liberal views of democracy—it’s genuinely bad for business.”

Blood, Sweat and Batteries” written by Vivienne Walt was produced with support from the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting. Sebastian Meyer is an award-winning photojournalist. Follow him on Instagram.