DASPAN DANJUMA takes a closer look at an often overlooked occupation on the outskirts of Jos, where residents eke out a living from the region’s rocky terrain. Beyond the physical strain and environmental hazards, the stone-breaking trade reveals stories of resilience, adaptation and determination as men and women struggle to sustain their households amid harsh economic realities
In the rocky highlands surrounding Jos, the Plateau State capital, a quiet but demanding livelihood is steadily shaping the economic realities of many residents.
Beneath the open sky and harsh sun, men and women spend long hours breaking stones into various sizes for use in construction. What appears to be a rugged and unforgiving terrain has, for many, become a dependable source of income and survival.
With simple tools and strong determination, workers extract rocks and crush them into gravel for sale. Their methods may be basic, but they reflect a form of innovation driven by necessity and resilience in the face of limited economic opportunities.
Livelihood built on resilience
Mrs Teny Ibrahim, a 46-year-old mother who has spent 16 years in the business, explained one of the techniques used by workers.
“We use worn-out vehicle tyres to set fire on the portion we want to break. The heat weakens the rock and makes it easier to break with less energy,” she said.
While effective, the method exposes workers to serious health risks. Experts warn that the thick black smoke from burning tyres contains toxic substances capable of causing skin irritation, eye problems and respiratory complications.
Despite these dangers, many workers continue without protective gear, highlighting the urgent need for basic safety measures such as face masks and safer working practices.
Survival, education, small progress
For many engaged in the trade, stone breaking is more than just hard labour—it is a means of survival and gradual progress.
Sylvester Ibrahim, a father of five, disclosed that he started working in the trade at the age of seven. Today, he owns a home and has been able to educate all his children.
“I thank God that from this work, I was able to save money, buy a quarter plot of land, and build a house. Now we live in it. All my children are in school. My first child is in secondary school,” he said.
Faith Edward, 32, also found her way into stone breaking four years ago after leaving her kunu business in search of better income. She said the work now sustains her basic needs and helps her save toward a future career in broadcasting.
Similarly, Mrs Ibrahim noted that despite challenges in the market, she has been able to support her household and sponsor her son’s education.
“Even though the market is sometimes difficult, I have been able to sponsor my son’s education and still provide food for my family,” she said.
Rising costs, shrinking margins
Despite its importance to livelihoods, the trade remains physically demanding and increasingly difficult due to rising costs.
Workers often encounter large rocks they cannot break alone, forcing them to hire skilled labour. According to Faith Edward, the cost of such services has increased.
“We used to pay ₦2,500, but now it has increased to ₦3,000,” she said, attributing the rise to the wider economic situation.
Transportation further adds to their burden, as stones moved across difficult terrain require additional labour such as wheelbarrow pushers. Even after all expenses, earnings remain uncertain.
Customers frequently negotiate prices downward, leaving workers with very slim profit margins.
“We sell a bag for ₦1,200, but some customers insist on ₦1,000,” Sylvester explained. “We have no choice but to sell. Though sometimes, a few customers pay more—up to ₦1,500.”
The imbalance between effort and income underscores the fragile nature of the business, where daily survival often outweighs profit considerations.
Dreams beyond the rocks
After years of strenuous labour, many workers hope for a way out of the demanding business.
For Mrs Teny Ibrahim, age and exhaustion have made her dream of leaving the work more urgent.
“I pray that God will bless my son with a good job so he can help me start another business,” she said.
“If that happens, I will leave this work. I am tired, and I am getting older.”
Her aspiration reflects a shared sentiment among many workers—gratitude for the livelihood the trade provides, but a deep desire for less physically exhausting and more secure opportunities.
For now, however, the rocky highlands of Jos remain both workplace and lifeline for those determined to carve survival from stone. Each strike of the hammer tells a story of resilience, endurance and the quiet struggle to turn hardship into opportunity.
Well captured and written.
This is a nice piece. I think if those involved in this business can organize themselves into a cooperative group, I think it will went a long way in busting their trade and secure government and corporate organization support.