Rebuilding a former mining community

• NGOs visit to provide support to Khuma communities

• The closing of illegal mines further disrupted the local economy

• Communities work to legalise small-scale mining

  
  

Peace and Justice Network and Benchmark Foundation visited Khuma  on 2 April 2025, to investigate the intensified poverty and hardship experienced in the community since the closing of illegal mines as part of a nationwide state operation. With no way to earn money without the mines, theft and violent crime in the North West community is rising.

Once a vibrant town driven by informal mining activity, Kuma has been plunged into silence following the government’s controversial Operation Vala Umgodi. This operation aimed to shutting down illegal and dangerous mining operations, but has left deep scars on both the economy and social fabric of the community. Behind every closed tavern and shuttered salon lies a story of loss—not just of income, but of agency, dignity, and a future.

What is emerging now is a picture more complex than the headlines suggest. With the Zama Zamas (informal miners) gone, local businesses that thrived from their presence—whether legally or not—have collapsed. Taverns, salons, bottle stores, and rental homes sit abandoned or operating at a loss. In the words of one local resident, “You can just smell hunger in Khuma.”

But the economic toll is just one part of the crisis.

Community leaders report escalating violence as unemployed youth turn to crime and rival groups clash over territory. “There’s a lot of fighting between different factions,” one resident shared. “As many as ten teenagers died just last week.” The absence of structured income has not only stripped youth of opportunities—it has fuelled a spiral of desperation.

Perhaps the most heart-breaking consequence is the silence surrounding the children. These are the sons and daughters of miners who never returned. Some have been orphaned, others left without any form of psychological support. Despite comparisons being drawn with past tragedies like the Marikana Massacre, little is being done to care for the emotional and developmental needs of these young survivors.

“There is no counselling for the children,” one activist lamented. “No one talks about the children. They are invisible.”

A Fractured but Fair Perspective

Despite the chaos, many in the community are quick to point out the nuanced reality. They do not romanticize the Zama Zamas. “Yes, they were criminals, some were smugglers, and they fought amongst themselves,” said one leader. “But they were also our neighbors. They supported local businesses, they took care of children, they shared their earnings.”

This sentiment echoes a kind of grassroots pan-Africanism that has taken root in communities like Kuma, where people from South Africa, Zimbabwe, Lesotho, and Malawi live side by side. Relationships have formed across borders, families have grown, and a culture of sharing has emerged—one that was disrupted overnight by the operation.

The Role of Community Organizations

Amid the chaos, local NGOs and NPOs like the Justice and Peace-affiliated group have stepped in to fill the vacuum. Born out of the HIV/AIDS movement of the late 1990s, these organizations have evolved to provide holistic support—securing ID documents, offering social assistance, and more recently, stepping into advocacy roles as the crisis deepens.

“The work they do is real,” said one observer. “They don’t just talk about the community—they are the community. You can see it in the people they work with.”

Critics argue that national leaders, many of whom have union roots and ties to the mining sector, have lost touch with grassroots realities. “Someone like Gwede [Mantashe] wouldn’t understand. He lives in a suburb, far from this suffering,” said one commentator. “But many of the Zama Zamas were once part of the unions he helped build.”

Moreover, the promises made by mining giants—platinum extracted but no benefits delivered—ring hollow in communities still reeling from the aftershocks of industrial abandonment. Swings in a park do not substitute for jobs, clinics, or functional schools.

The Way Forward

As calls grow louder for the legalisation of small-scale and artisanal mining, community leaders continue to plead for recognition, resources, and reform.

Legal permits could transform Kuma’s informal miners into legitimate workers, bring income back to struggling businesses, and restore a sense of purpose for a generation otherwise written off.

“We are not promoting illegal activity,” one local leader emphasised. “We are fighting for life, for dignity, and for a future.”

Until that future arrives, Kuma remains a ghost town with a beating heart—one that refuses to give up, even when no one is listening.