Finding their way along the deep puddles and huge pothole craters are swarms of speeding motorbikes, heavily loaded buses and soda trucks that bang and clatter their way along one of the country's most poorly maintained roads. Only the cool sweet sodas seem as certain as the poverty, potholes and tall old mango trees that line the way. Approaching Mererani town, the road turns pale yellow and sandy, flecked with mineral bits that make it appear as if it is made of fools' diamonds. True to popular description, it feels like the Wild West. Although no packs of AK47-toting thugs were in sight during Internews' visits, it was clear that the police don't go there.
Mererani town is full of young men.
Its muddy streets are lined with bars, shops and stores selling provisions. The only women in the vicinity sell food or beer and soda in small canteens. Many more linger out of sight, waiting for customers in brothels. Non-miners often speak of the hills and the nearby town with dread and foreboding. The miners are more stoic, but all have stories of the violence, disease and other difficulties in the hills and town.