Marikana – Another year, another roll call for those who were killed, another year of broken promises

An ANC banner In Marikana. (Photo: Aisha Bahadur)

By Aisha Bahadur

23 Aug 2024

I have been to Marikana a number of times over the years. During these visits, I had the chance to speak with miners, women, and community union leaders not only about what happened 12 years ago, but also about how the miners and the community live and the challenges they face.

These include poor service delivery, high unemployment, poverty and violence. Marikana is not just a community of local people and migrant mineworkers, there are also thousands of women and children who are the “other” family of the mineworkers here.

It is the first time I am attending the commemoration of those who were killed at Marikana. It is 12 years since 34 striking miners were shot and killed here by police. When we arrive there are already people gathered at the koppie, a high rock outcrop where the miners sat in protest, during their strike. I want to see what they saw, so despite my unsteady feet, I decide to climb up.

A mineworker on the top of the koppie at Marikana. (Photo: Aisha Bahadur)

From the top of the koppie, to the left, the mine looms like a beached ship in the dust. There is a sea of shiny shack rooftops of the Nkaneng settlement in front and to the right, stretching out until the shimmer blends in with the haze. A miner comes to greet me, and I tell him that Nkaneng seems to be as dusty as ever. He smiles wearily and tells me that things have improved for miners, but not for the community. He believes that it will get better one day, but not in his lifetime. I find this hard to accept. Surely this site of extraction of huge mineral wealth can do better for the community that serves it.

Promise

A promise was made in 2017; Lonmin said that it would build a Green Blanket Memorial Park on this now sacred site, which would consist of a park, a soccer field, a museum and a restaurant. Sibanye Stillwaters, who bought the mine from Lonmin, pledged to see this project through, but it seems destined to be another unfulfilled and forgotten promise. The project seems unlikely, given the surrounds.

Read Daily Maverick's package compiled two years ago here: Marikana commemoration

In the years that I have been coming here, I wonder why it is so difficult to construct a tarred road connecting the tiny town of Marikana to this end of the mine, which would serve the Nkaneng settlement, too. Instead, there continues to be a wide scar in the dirt that serves as a road, with rubbish lining its sides. There seems to be a refusal to acknowledge the thousands who travel this road; it would require acknowledging the realities of Nkaneng at its gates, and perhaps the powers that be fear that this will open the floodgates of hopes and dreams of all that live here. So without the promised park, for now the Green Blanket, worn around the shoulders of strike leader Mgcineni Noki that fateful day, remains emblematic of the struggle for justice at Marikana.

The koppie at Marikana, viewed from below. (Photo: Aisha Bahadur)

A man shouts out to ask me for R200, I laugh and ask him instead to help me down the steepest part of the koppie. He does so, gallantly, much to the amusement of the others around us. As I step slowly and unsteadily down the koppie, I imagine the panic and scrambling that must have ensued that day, 12 years ago. Miners had refused to leave the koppie and the tensions grew, with an ever-increasing number of police and barricades constructed around them.

When miners realised that they were being kraaled in, they decided to leave the koppie. It was then, when they started moving on the ground below the koppie, that the police opened fire on them, killing 17 miners at this site. Today there are children riding ponies that belong to the Basotho miners at what I think is the exact place where they lay slain. Perhaps, for today, it can be a memorial park.

No expense spared

The Association of Mineworkers and Construction Union (Amcu) has been putting on this commemorative event in front of the koppie annually, and clearly they are experienced, know what is needed and no expense has been spared. There is a massive stage, steel framed tents that can seat hundreds, fencing, medics, marshalls and security that are noticeably unarmed. There are camera platforms, lighting and a huge screen; all of these powered by growling generators. I am told that Nkaneng has been without electricity for four days now. So for today people forget their worries and enjoy the popular line-up of celebrity entertainers that Amcu has brought to them.

Ponies belonging to Basotho miners. (Photo: Aisha Bahadur)

Nearly every man in the crowd is wearing an AMCU T-shirt, as are many women and children. It is clear that the union has won the hearts of all here. During the strike in 2012, insurgent worker committees at Lonmin turned away from the National Union of Mineworkers, and after the massacre, when it became clear that union representation was needed, they chose Amcu. Accountability has remained with the rank and file and Amcu has been with them through tough times, including the five-month strike that had all of Nkaneng starving by the end.

There have been successive gains won by the union and Amcu has grown throughout the platinum belt and elsewhere in the mining sector as a result of their reputation. Today, here below the koppie, a group of men in yellow overalls and yellow ornate mechanical headdresses show off their support for the union. Others form a tight brigade and march up to the top of the koppie waving knobkerries, sjamboks and other traditional weapons, symbolic of the militancy and the fighting spirit of the workers.

One of the T-shirts has printed across it: “Marikana exposed South Africa’s fake democracy and fake revolutionaries.” There is a widely held sentiment that President Cyril Ramaphosa must come to Marikana and apologise, that his apology and that of the South African government is needed in order for the people here to heal. In 2018, Ramaphosa said in his eulogy at the funeral of Winnie Madikizela-Mandela that he would visit Marikana. This is yet another promise that has not been fulfilled.

‘Fake democracy and fake revolutionaries’

This “fake democracy and fake revolutionaries” slogan for this 12-year commemoration might be believed by Amcu leaders, and it might also be a view held by the mineworkers here at Marikana and the hundreds of Amcu members who have been bussed in from around the country. But it does not seem to be one shared by the people in Marikana who vote here.

An ANC banner In Marikana. (Photo: Aisha Bahadur)

For a while after the massacre, the ANC lost the ward to the EFF. This has turned around, it has been won back by the ANC since the 2021 elections. The only evidence of a once popular EFF in the area is the unsold merchandise of street vendors who have lined their wares outside the entrance of the memorial-park-for-a-day. Meanwhile, in the little town centre of Marikana there are huge ANC banners with a smiling Ramaphosa beaming down, like a Teletubbies sun, on people as they go about their daily hustle. One of these banners, ironically, is positioned outside a building with a hand-painted sign, “Marikana Funeral Services”.

While the ANC released a statement on Marikana, it has no visible presence at the commemorative event. In contrast, there are many people in MK T-shirts sitting in the VIP tents, but none who are on the stage. A rumour had circulated that former president, Jacob Zuma might attend, which as the day unfolds proved to be untrue.

Seated on the stage were mainly family members of the victims who had travelled to be there, labour leaders from Amcu and union federations. Also present was Bishop Paul Verryn, who movingly prayed for those who died there and asked that we hear the cries of the poor and hungry, and called for a commitment to a wider socioeconomic justice.

There is a roll call of those who were killed, a family member to represent each of them forms a line across the stage. Although some of the fallen have no family here today, the stage still seems crowded. There were no tears, except from Amcu president Joseph Mathunjwa who sobbed in the background. When artist Siphokazi sang the mournful anti-apartheid struggle song, Senzeni na, there was a chill in the air. DM

Senzeni na senzeni na? What have we done, what have we done?

Senzeni na senzeni na? What have we done, what have we done?

Senzeni na senzeni na? What have we done, what have we done?

Aisha Bahadur is a trade unionist with Public Services International.

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South Africa

Promise

No expense spared

‘Fake democracy and fake revolutionaries’