Coal scavengers risk lives underground
WITH his pickaxe and a wheelbarrow, Siyabonga Ngwenya briskly approaches the abandoned Imbabala open-pit coal mine and disappears into a small, dark opening in the ground.
Big rocks teetering above look like they could fall at any moment. “This is where I make a living,” Ngwenya, 22, says. “There is no reason to be scared. I have been living here long enough now. Yes, people do die sometimes when rocks fall.”
Ngwenya, who lives with his grandmother at Emadamini near Wesselton township outside Ermelo, Mpumalanga, braves these dangers every day to mine coal. He sells it in the nearby informal settlements of Londoloza, Nkanini and Mamaks, which have no electricity.
“My intention [today] was to mine two full buckets before sunset. I could make R120 for a full bucket,” Ngwenya says.
His parents died when he was still young. “I realised that going to school will not help me because my grandmother and I were starving,” he says.
The Imbabala mine was closed by the Department of Mineral Resources in 2011 after it received complaints about environmental offences and reports that unlawful underground mining was causing cracks in houses in nearby communities.
Ngwenya has to crawl into the opening on his stomach. The low roof of the cavity forces him to crouch and he works by the light of a candle.
Ngwenya says he would gladly work for a mining company if a job was available. Until then, he freelances.
“Most of the money goes to buying food. I do also buy at least two quarts of beer when I am relaxing after work.
“The market is big here. Most people in the squatter camp don’t have electricity. Even here in Wesselton and the RDP houses people still use coal because electricity is expensive,” he says.
With two buckets of coal, a household can make fires twice a day for three days.
Ngwenya works with two partners, Sibusiso Nkosi, 24, and Sunday Hlophe.
Scores of other youths come and go from the shafts, pushing wheelbarrows or carrying sacks full of coal.
“We always try to get something every day,” Ngwenya says. “We heard people talking about coming here and making a living, so we joined them. Sunday and myself work together and share the proceeds after work.”
Nkosi says they have regular customers who place orders with them.
“We always try to meet these orders. It works well for us. The price varies because we negotiate with our customers to keep them.”
On the surface, 150m from the pit, two mothers, Jabulile Nkosi, 37, and her cousin Khethiwe Maseko, 28, sift through a pile of coal for lumps that can be used.
“I cannot afford to pay R30 every three days,” Jabulile says.
“I am unemployed and only have a grant to survive. Only my husband is working and I know it’s hard to for him to fend for us. I think it’s better to come here and sift the coal. It is the only way I can contribute.”
She is angry with the government for doing nothing about their plight.
“The thing is we will soon be told about our councillor that we need to come for next year’s elections. Where is that councillor now? “I will not vote. What will I vote for? To keep on staying in the shacks?”
Unemployment is rife in the township.
Mpumalanga is home to most of the countries coal-fired power stations due to its large and easily accessible reserves of the fuel.
Companies mining in the region include Anglo American, BHP Billiton and Exxaro Resources.