A rock that did not break: the women of Marikana
August 16 is the second anniversary of the Marikana killings. Khanyi Ndabeni spoke to women in the community who again faced hardship during the five-month platinum strike this year
WHEN Nomfanelo Jali walked into her oneroom shack and found her three-year-old grandson, Gundi, chewing on a candle, she realised how bad things were. “That is when I realised we are suffering extreme starvation,” said Jali, 46.
Jali had herself only drunk some saltwater that day.
“I was forced to borrow a cup of maize meal from a neighbour so that I could quickly make soft porridge with no sugar for him,” said Jali, who is among the hundreds of women in Nkaneng township who described this week how they begged, borrowed and shared to survive during the strike that ended in June.
Jali, an informal trader, watched her vegetable business gradually disappear as more and more people bought food on credit during the five-month-long platinum strike.
Over the weeks and months, the family had been reduced to eating only pap and cabbage — and then there was nothing for little Gundi.
When the strike eventually ended, the family looked forward to receiving the first pay cheque in months. But when Jali’s husband, Oupa, woke up on payday, the salary deposited into his bank account was already gone.
“Loans and debit orders didn’t leave a cent. The only proof we had was a cellphone notification that his salary was deposited,” said Jali.
The family still owe thousands of rands in debts to relatives and local businesses.
It will take months before everyone fully recovers from the damage caused by the strike
“How can one eat and enjoy a meal when your neighbour is starving?” asked Thembi Mathubu, 64, a pensioner who was among those who shared the meagre resources of the community during the strike.
Mathubu supplements her R1 300 old-age pension by renting out 20 shacks in her yard.
As the stoppage dragged on and the hardship increased, Mathubu had to forego her rental income and help to feed her tenants.
“Even now, I can’t really ask them to pay rent because I know they don’t have it. It will take months before everyone fully recovers from the damage caused by the strike,” she said.
During the strike, Mphathi Mbekwa ran a soup kitchen from her home to help the community to stave off hunger.
At the height of the work stoppage, the soup kitchen fed more than 500 residents from Wonderkop and Nkaneng townships.
One township resident, Thumeka Magwangqana, said the wage increase for miners was the only positive thing that had come out of their suffering.
“We thought the media spotlight and visits by government officials after the massacre would change our lives in Marikana. But everything is still the same,” she said.