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Just over a decade ago, I visited a house in Togo, West Africa. While I was there, I&nbsp; found myself — on a day off — inside an old, rather unremarkable house. Please take&nbsp; a look at this photo, taken in January 2014 and carried with me at all times.&nbsp;<figure id="figure-ukdx4sim2kmb0ip4z9"><img id="ukdx4sim2kmb0ip4z9" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/3aANK6GSpW4ejmEMLMArA0dcbGJCeVuaqCnFURR736s8ZirfGjolxMGRLTDeGQ9B.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/3aANK6GSpW4ejmEMLMArA0dcbGJCeVuaqCnFURR736s8ZirfGjolxMGRLTDeGQ9B.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>In the middle of the main room, to the side of a dining table and chair, there was a&nbsp; trap door in the floorboards. My guide said I could lift the door and go under. I did — and looked around as best I could. The 2 to 3 foot drop led only to a dirt floor.&nbsp; No light. No ventilation. Just packed earth. Straightening myself and standing again, I looked at the guide — and he said to our&nbsp; group: “This house belonged to a slave trader. He would keep as many as 100 slaves&nbsp; under these floorboards… until the slave ship docked in the harbour.” I remember thinking to myself: “How could someone sit at this table… eat his food…&nbsp; drink his wine… while a hundred fellow human beings suffered in darkness beneath&nbsp; his feet?” That house has never left me. It reminds me that the worst suffering in the world&nbsp; often happens out of sight — beneath the floorboards.&nbsp; A little over a year ago, I read a book that disturbed me more than anything I’d read&nbsp; in my life. It was about the children working in the cobalt mines of the Democratic&nbsp; Republic of Congo. The author described how the blood of the Congo powers our digital lives. And it was&nbsp; brutal. Now — I’d worked in global development for over a decade. But this was different. I closed the book, feeling disturbed. And the disturbance would not go away. Not to tweet. Not to pray about it. Not to start a campaign. But to go. A few months later, I called my friend Carl Beech and said: “I think I need to visit an&nbsp; artisanal cobalt mine in the DRC. It will be dangerous, expensive, and most people&nbsp; won’t want to help us. Will you come?” He didn’t hesitate. Especially courageous given he had for some time been diagnosed&nbsp; with Parkinson’s disease. And that’s how, last April, the two of us — two completely unqualified men from the&nbsp; UK — found ourselves standing at the edge of a cobalt mine in&nbsp; Kolwezi.We saw children as young as six working with no safety gear,&nbsp; no pay, and no protection. We saw women with babies&nbsp; strapped to their backs, hauling rocks in the heat. We saw men&nbsp; hacking tunnels into the earth with nothing but their hands. Although we were not supposed to, we took photos and videos.&nbsp; Here is just a small sample from the hundreds of photos and&nbsp; videos we captured.<figure id="figure-vekt3k6gt2jmb0it5kj"><img id="vekt3k6gt2jmb0it5kj" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/282lY65NtQTMFJNSVvKCocqHYCz8jdVdq1dPspsTikgbI8wWSCls36pHsdLIPjHs.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 3/2; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="3:2" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/282lY65NtQTMFJNSVvKCocqHYCz8jdVdq1dPspsTikgbI8wWSCls36pHsdLIPjHs.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 3/2; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure>And we saw this biblical scene feeding a global supply chain — for smartphones,&nbsp; laptops, electric vehicles — a supply chain that insists it’s clean.And we saw this biblical scene feeding a global supply chain — for smartphones,&nbsp; laptops, electric vehicles — a supply chain that insists it’s clean. But if that were true… Why is there still a need for children to do this work? Why&nbsp; are there still 40,000 working in Southern DRC in this way? The deeper horror we discovered was this: The system works — because of the&nbsp; exploitation. Middlemen rig the scales. Buyers falsify reports. Leaders profit from chaos. Corporate&nbsp; profits rise. Governments collect more tax.And it all depends on a hidden workforce — on outsourcing suffering. And yet — even in the dust and despair — we saw hope. A young boy danced for joy after receiving a simple pair of trainers. In that moment, Carl and I knew: This couldn’t be a one-time trip. It had to be the&nbsp; start of something. That’s how the Freedom and Justice Partnership was born. Earlier this year, we helped 150 child miners, but we know that’s not enough. We’re&nbsp; not trying to reinvent what’s already working. Instead, we’re committed to backing&nbsp; the local projects that are already helping children — and scaling them with strength. And more than that, we’re building something bigger.<figure id="figure-a9bke1blkqmb0ivbtx"><img id="a9bke1blkqmb0ivbtx" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/2k6yr2NW6QCJ1WY5S4HH4me3NNYC5HoTLejRdDzihOwHDjLBBouIXhMFxpqMxzhu.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/2k6yr2NW6QCJ1WY5S4HH4me3NNYC5HoTLejRdDzihOwHDjLBBouIXhMFxpqMxzhu.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>A cross-sector effort that brings together: Business, Philanthropy, Diplomacy,&nbsp; Education, Health,&nbsp; Technology, and&nbsp; Faith. Because if we’re&nbsp; going to change this,&nbsp; we need to: - Build a business model that gives&nbsp; even corrupt actors a&nbsp; reason to transition - Use technology to bring traceability and truth to supply chains- Back local solutions with global courage - And show that the Church will not look away This is one of the most complex problems on earth. But it’s also one of the clearest&nbsp; moral lines I’ve ever seen.We can’t look away. We can’t pretend we didn’t know.I’m not asking for applause or sympathy. I’m asking for partnership. Ambassador&nbsp; Tony Hall, we salute the incredible work you have done in a similar field, and as well&nbsp; as taking great encouragement from your story of how such complex and broken&nbsp; systems can be transformed, we are open to working together in any way we can to bring hope in this situation. We need:&nbsp; - Catalytic capital to support frontline work;&nbsp; - Strategic minds to help shape a viable economic alternative;&nbsp; - Champions willing to open doors and offer wisdom;&nbsp; - And the courage to face one of the world’s hardest problems — and not flinch. Because none of us can fix this alone. But together, we just might.&nbsp;

Beneath the Floorboards

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Beneath the Floorboards

Hell on Rare Earth