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I hardly slept. It wasn’t that I was kept awake by the mosquitoes, or the raucous shouting and drunken laughter of revellers that overrode the gut-wrenching thump of the incessant bass-line at the nightclub about five hundred metres away, rather it were my nerves that prevented me from sleeping. Long before the alarm went off I had already decided to throw in the towel and get up. An hour before sunrise I set off, in the east the sky was just beginning to lighten and the outline of buildings and trees were becoming apparent as I crossed the railway line before heading south along the road that led to the capital. Although it was barely light the road was already packed with a seemingly endless stream of enormous trucks heading northwards filled with consumer goods and mining equipment, and trucks heading south filled with grain, processed metals and a wide variety of ores derived from the mines that spread out in an arc further to the north.
Absalom stood waiting for me at the corner, huddling with some colleagues around a brazier which appeared to be filled less with charcoal than with scraps of burning plastic and paper more than anything else. Along with three other men he dumped his tools in the back of the bakkie and hopped into the twin-cab. The acrid smell of burnt plastic and pungent body-sweat filled the car, I turned down my window and offered cigarettes to those that wanted. With laughing comments, on how cigarettes were bad for your health, the men pocketed cigarettes and three lit up.
As we headed south the buildings on our left started thinning out, to be replaced by a dark earthen rampart about 15 metres high with the twisted remnants of wire fencing and thin stands of eucalyptus sprouting up in front of it about fifty metres away from the road. Along the road a steady flow of school children wearing a smattering of uniform and toting plastic bags and satchels ran, skipped and jogged their way to school in clustered clumps. Heading northwards to town men and women walked, caged lifts and were overtaken by trucks, mini-busses, cars, motorcycles, cyclists and the occasional heavily laden bicycle carrying no less than two man-sized sacks of charcoal that teetered and towered out above the scrawny cyclists weaving their way northwards to the city. On our right, about thirty metres from the road, the buildings that housed businesses had petered out and been replaced by row upon row of ten metre wide three metre high single storey buildings separated from one another by patches of dirt and the occasional path or narrow alley that headed west into what was euphemistically referred to as the high-density suburbs of the town.
I suggested that we should stop and get some fat-cakes and tea from the women sitting behind charcoal braziers and selling to a steady stream of customers. Absalom laughed, said something about money, which made the other three snigger, and suggested that the money would be better served were it to be spent on a real meal later in the day, besides which it was running late and he wanted to get to the “mine” before the security guards came on shift. About seven kilometres to the south of the town the earthen rampart veered off leftwards to the east towards the sun that was just beginning to rise above the horizon. We carried on for about another kilometre before Absolom instructed me to turn off the road to the left and begin following a path between small-holdings.
We drove eastwards, between small patches of agricultural land, with the sun rising up directly above the bonnet of the car. Cultivated plots of land about a quarter the size of a football pitch, surrounded by scrub and a few trees. People were growing pumpkins, cabbages, onions, and, in another season, maize. As we drove on the earthen embankment rose up ahead, with its fencing becoming ever more prominent and impressively substantial. All around the red grey dust that coated everything, and scraps of plastic sticking up from the red dusty dirt, the remains of buckets, slippers, plates, cups and other cheap household goods. After about two kilometre, with the earthen embankment still to our left we approached a building, which, as I later learnt, had once been the residence of a white mine employee who had been appointed as “Native Development Officer” to oversee what had been Native agricultural small-holdings awarded to mineworkers in an effort to bind them more firmly to the mine.
The building was built out of sun-dried red bricks and had once been plastered. Now it was looking rather the worse for wear, the mosquito-netting of the veranda that once surrounded the building existed only in the upper corners of the warped wooden frames. The corrugated iron of the roof was rusted through in places and had been partially replaced by sheets cannibalised from the veranda. Once a verdant garden had surrounded the house, now the house was surrounded by a red dust expanse that was being swept by two young girls sweeping in unison with small hand held bundles of reeds. To the right of the house a derelict multi-bladed windmill stood, some of its blades rusted through, its vane cocked, and seemingly about to fall to the ground. At its feet a small green Indian knock-off Lister diesel engine covered in grease, dust and oil thumped away driving a pump from which water gushed into a dark green plastic Roto water tank. Next to that the remains of a ruined water-tank of corrugated iron within an earthen ridge (a classic southern African farm “dam”) that had once been used to store water. The remains of overgrown and partially filled in irrigation canals outlined an extensive infrastructure that had once existed to irrigate the garden and the agricultural small holdings overseen by the Native Development Officer.
Scattered to the left of the house were the carcasses of three motor-cars that reflected the passing years and the changing fortunes of the country. The badly battered remains of an old Morris Minor Traveller bereft of doors, windows and wheels lay half on its side in the red soil, as if it was slowly sinking away. Next to that the unmistakable box chassis of a Land Rover of which only the fire wall and a single mud guard remained. And next to that, the most recent addition, the remains of a small white Datsun sedan on blocks, but which would probably never drive again. At the rear of what had once been the yard a small stand of citrus trees and an Avacado tree stood, whilst at the front of the house a large mango tree towered over everything. Chickens scattered ahead of the sweeping girls and grubbed and scratched in the yard. On the advice of Absalom I parked the car at the foot of the mango tree next to a grey rather abused Mazda pick-up that was still in running order but would almost certainly join the three wrecks in the near future.
Absalom and his colleagues immediately gathered their kit and set off in haste. Following Absalom we walked along on a very clearly trodden path that led to the fence that faced the earthen embankment. At the fence Absalom and his colleagues expertly parted the fence and slipped through. Almost immediately after the fence we began scrabbling up the embankment.
Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted me when I reached the top of the embankment. Whilst behind me the smallholdings extended into the grey brown haze of the distance, before me it was as if I had literally stepped onto the surface of the moon. For as far as I could see I was looking at a featureless undulating landscape with in the far distance the smoke stacks of the refinery of Buffalo Mine. Absalom and his team briskly headed off towards their mine-site. I later understood that their haste and desire to get away from the edge of the dump was on account of the fact that they did not want to be seen entering the mining territory with a Mzungu. Although it was clear that they had bought access to the territory via “their” Buffalo guard, they were afraid that they might be spotted by another guard controlling an adjoining sector. We walked across a completely blighted landscape on which nothing grew and that rolled away towards all points of the compass. The material we walked across comprised of slag, cinder, crushed ore, and over-burden. After about 15 minutes of walking I was able to discern a series of makeshift derricks and new heaps of dirt that rose above the landscape. A few minutes more and we had arrived at what Absalom and his colleagues referred to as the mine.
At first the surface upon which we were standing looked no different from where we had walked, it was dry, dusty, ash and cinders, but Absalom assured me that this was what we were looking for. I later realised that we had reached the transition zone of 1974 when the mine had been nationalised and the new staff were still struggling to come to terms with the mineralisation and how to extract the optimum return from the ore being mined. In other words, we had reached the space where what was being discarded as waste often still contained substantial amounts of unclaimed metals, prime amongst them being clumps of lead and zinc in ore and slag. We had reached the physical detritus of nationalisation.
Here, about 1,5km away from the southern edge of the dump and about 4.5km away from the mine and its smelters that lay to the North, a series of vertical shafts had been sunk into the mine dump. About 50 metres to our right, to the East, another small group of men were also beginning work on their mine. Absalom stated that the men often stayed on their mines for as long as possible to build up stock for sale, and to steer away from the undoubted temptations of the city. In addition the team would wish to defend and keep their claim rights by staying on site. It was one of the reasons why that he and his team were so adamant that we drive to and walk to the mine as quickly as possible. In the past promising mines had been jumped, usually with the active collaboration of the Buffalo Guards who would pocket the already paid fees of the team that had been driven off. Now the men shouted to and fro, joking about the lazy men who had spent the night in town and felt it necessary to bring along a Mzungu to prove the point. By this stage the sun had risen well above the horizon and dust eddies danced back and forth across the dark grey and black landscape as the sun heated up the surface upon which we were standing.
Across the top of the mine shaft a tripod of rough-hewn wood, reenforced with wooden plank traverses taken from pallets had been erected. At the top of the tripod a single wheeled pulley had been fastened, through which a rough blue nylon rope ran that dangled down into the shaft. An extra log of wood had been fastened to one side of the tripod to act as a fulcrum for the thinner equally frayed orange nylon cord that ran across it and was used to haul ore from the shaft. Upon our arrival at the mine shaft Jephthah was let down the shaft to retrieve the sieve, which had been lowered down the evening before. Shortly after that Ezekiel descended down the shaft and crawled into one of the traverses about 4 metres down. Jephthah hung in the shaft and passed tough woven plastic bags up to the surface. This was done by tying the bags, one by one, to the red rope that dangled down and was then pulled up hand over hand to the surface. At the surface the content of the bags was tipped onto a pile and shovelled on to the sieve which had an aperture size of an Inch or about 2.5cm. Bracing the sieve on their shoulders by means of a broad belt attached to the corners of the sieve two men rocked the sieve between them, their faces cloaked in rolled up tee-shirts or old covid faces masks.
Within ten minutes clouds of dust rose up above the team and to our right to the East approximately every 50 metres similar towers of dust rose up into the sky. At about 10h00 the wind started gusting from the Northeast. Although I tried to stay out of the dust, before long I felt as if I had spent the morning rolling in the dust. At the sieve Absalom and another lifted chunks from the piles deposited next to the sieve. With hammers they sought to separate the lead and zinc from lumps of slag and ore. The lead and zinc were separated into two piles and bagged into 20kg woven plastic bags which would later be taken back to town to be sold. Sometimes, in the absence of transport, the team sold their finds at the fence or the house where we had parked the car. Selling in town ensured a greater profit as well as the opportunity to play off the Lebanese and Greek metal dealers who bought up lead and zinc.
By 10h00 it also became apparent to me why water could become so desired by the men, such an important factor in their mining, and at times a substantial part of their running costs. Water weighs a lot, and may have seemed unimportant to the uninitiated miners, as a result conflict over access to drinking water rather than finds appeared to dominate conflict in the team. Each man carried discarded plastic 1.5 litre soft drink bottles filled with drinking water, in addition Jephthah, as the youngest, had been tasked with carrying a jerrycan with 20 litres of water for the team. The days before, it had been cloudy and comparatively cool and the team had not finished the 20 litres of water in the jerrycan at the end of the day. Jephthah, anxious not to over-exert himself, had not filled the jerrycan. Now around 14h00, as the team took a break, all hell broke loose when it was discovered that the water was finished. This was exacerbated by the fact that it would now also not be possible to cook the maize meal that I had brought along.
In sullen silence the sieve was lowered down into the shaft and the “catch” of the day hoisted onto the backs of the men and myself along with their tools. Without water it would not be possible to stay at the site. Absalom and Ezekiel argued about what was to be done, send Jephthah back to the house to buy and collect water, and let him spend the night at the shaft as punishment, or leave the mines and return the following day in the hope that it had not been jumped. When I asked what was going on, Absalom lost his temper and started shouting and threatened to hit me. Thankfully Ezekiel intervened. Absalom, so I realised later on, had lost face, or so he felt, in front of me and all the more so in the eyes of his team. Instead of being the successful entrepreneur, I had seen him for what he was, a poor man struggling to survive and incapable of controlling the world around him.
When things had cooled down I suggested that I could drive to and from town with the team and its “catch” and return with sufficient water to allow them to spend the night on site and work another day. Initially this suggestion was accepted, but it was felt that Jephthah should stay on site until the team returned, but this led to the further complication as to who would then carry the 20 litre jerrycan from the site, and more importantly, back to the site when it was once again filled with water. When it was suggested that someone else should stay on site, the debate continued unabated but on a different level and one that related to the sale of the “catch” and the fear of missing out if they could not be present at the sale in town.
In the end it was decided that the team would all walk back to the house, but that Jephthah would return to the mine with a jerrycan filled with water bought from the house at the edge of the dump. Absalom clearly anticipated that I would pay for the water. He and the others had clearly seen how anxious I was to bring the tensions down. Although the catch was less than what Absalom claimed they usually took to town, the men wanted to return to town to sell their catch and cash in. It was clear that they wanted to make use of the fact that free transport was available and that I had agreed to take the full team back again on the following day.
The five men and I each loaded a 20 kilogramme bag and set off back to the car the house. Arriving at the car Absolom paid off the water with the money that I had given him for this purpose. It was clear that he wanted to be away and get back into town as quickly as possible. Later I was told that there had been occasions in which the Buffalo Guards had demanded a higher cut and as we had 120kg of lead and zinc with us they were naturally afraid that one of the buffalo guards might pass by before we had left for town. Normally the team would pay off the Buffalo Guard, make use of his services in driving the battered pickup truck to town, purchase water, and at times food in exchange for part of their catch. Absalom reckoned that in normal circumstances the team, would loose approximately 50% of their catch in “running costs”, paying off Buffalo guards, buying water and food and buying transport.
I had not realised it, but my presence had contained within it the possibility of a substantial windfall, all on account of the fact that I had access to transport, on account of which their water costs, food costs and transport costs had all been reduced to nihil.
In the event, I drove the team home, but on the following day only Ezekiel turned up and returned with me to pick up Jephthah who, it turned out, had not returned to the mine, but had spent the night with relatives on one of the smallholdings to the south of the dumps. It was clear to me that the team had broken up and that Ezekiel and Jephthah were set to create a new team without Absalom. I never discovered how the catch had been divided in the team. Absalom had stated that each member took a bag each as payment, but Ezekiel denied this stating that Absalom had demanded 1/5 of the bags of the other team members in addition to his own bag. This on account of the fact that he had organised my transport and that it was he who had paid off the Buffalo guard. Either way, it was clear that the team was no more. In the days that followed I never got to see Absalom again, and some claimed that he had moved to the capital, whilst others claimed he had gone to the arc of mines in the north.