DUST IN THEIR LUNGS AND HOPE IN THE HEARTS. . . The story of Zimbabweans seeking redress after toiling in SA mines . . . Compensation for the long-suffering ex-mine workers now imminent
Source: DUST IN THEIR LUNGS AND HOPE IN THE HEARTS. . . The story of Zimbabweans seeking redress after toiling in SA mines . . . Compensation for the long-suffering ex-mine workers now imminent – herald Theseus Shambare FOR Davison Raphain, the coughing never stops. He sits on a wooden chair at his son-in-law’s house […]
He sits on a wooden chair at his son-in-law’s house in Waterfalls, Harare, a thin blanket draped over his knees.
At 70, his breathing is heavy and laboured — a haunting rhythm shaped by decades spent underground in South Africa’s gold mines. He coughs, then pauses, scratching his swollen legs, the itch relentless.
“They say it is TB (tuberculosis),” he murmured, forcing a weak smile.
Davison left Zimbabwe in 1974 as a 20-year-old to chase hope in the neighbouring country.
He joined thousands of Zimbabweans recruited under the Witwatersrand Native Labour Association (Wenela), the labour pipeline that fed Southern Africa’s gold mining empire.
At first, his job was to haul ore from the depths of Driefontein Mine, before being promoted to an underground train driver.
For 40 years, he only knew heat, darkness and dust.
He subsequently married and had three daughters, one of whom has since passed away.
When his wife died in 2022, Davison had already begun feeling that something was eating him from the inside.
He now shuttles between his rural home in Mhondoro and Harare to receive treatment, supported by his son-in-law.
“I feel like I am carrying a bag of stones. But I thank God I can still speak. Many of my friends did not make it,” he said, pressing his legs gently.
When his old friend Smart Paundi (66) visits from the same village, the reunion is both joyous and tragic.
Smart Paundi
Both men cough through their laughter.
They talk of the tunnels that swallowed many, of the songs they sang in the dark to stay awake and of the promises that never came true.
Smart spent four years at Blyvooruitzicht Mine, moving from ore handling to electrical maintenance.
He, too, returned home with TB, a legacy of silica dust and confinement.
“We came back weak and sick, without pensions or recognition. We were used up like candles,” he said.
From Njanja in Chivhu, 74-year-old Cephas Zimbudzi nurses the same pain.
“We buried many friends in those tunnels. They died coughing before they saw justice. Maybe God has kept me alive for this moment,” he notes.
Zimbudzi was employed at a mine owned by ERPM (East Rand Proprietary Mines), 78 levels below ground.
“We were given nothing but shorts to cover our private parts,” he said.
“We were treated like animals before entering the tunnels. Many never returned.”
Cephas Zimbudzi
In Masvingo, 73-year-old Jairos Makamure had failed to find work in Rhodesia and considered joining the liberation struggle before ending up in South Africa’s mines in 1975.
“I worked 38 levels deep,” he says, his voice breaking.
“I nearly lost my hand drilling. Many colleagues were killed and buried in the tunnels.”
For John Tatire from Marange, Manicaland province, the story cuts even deeper.
He still remembers enduring a strong smell while in hospital after an explosion.
On April 13, 1976, a blast underground left him unconscious for three days.
“When I opened my eyes, I was in a dirty ward.
“They had placed a bucket for a toilet and it was emptied only after days. The smell stayed with me.”
John spent three months in that hospital, his pelvis fractured.
When he returned to Zimbabwe, unpaid and broken, poverty drove him back to the mines, but the conditions remained bad.
In 1978, he gave up, returning home to join the liberation war as a mujibha.
He vividly recalls the humiliation they went through in South Africa.
“The first two weeks in training were torture. We were locked in a hot room for hours, forced to exercise and even made to wear dresses instead of shorts. It was meant to break our dignity,” he revealed.
The mine where he worked, which was owned by ERPM, housed 28 men per room, a chaotic mix of nationalities.
“There was no privacy, no peace. Fights were common — Mozambicans, Zambians, Basotho and Zimbabweans. The companies wanted us divided, so we never united against them,” he said.
“The food was terrible. Some men found comfort with local women, which caused more bloodshed. Families in Zimbabwe were destroyed. We were all broken by that system.”
The mines were deathtraps, he said, with little regard for safety.
“Supervisors forced us to work in dangerous shafts to meet quotas. Rocks would fall, tunnels collapse and men die. Some are still buried down there.”
John still walks with a limp from his fractured pelvis, which stiffens during winter.
“I lost friends to TB and silicosis. They worked themselves to death and never saw justice. We deserve compensation,” he said softly.
Push for justice
Across Southern Africa, over 500 000 mineworkers are estimated to have contracted silicosis or TB while working in South African mines.
An estimated 1 500 to 2 000 were Zimbabweans who returned home without pensions or recognition.
For decades, these men have lived with the scars of an industry that once promised prosperity — their lungs clouded with dust, their dignity buried in forgotten shafts.
The long-running struggle for justice dates back to a landmark class action in which former mineworkers from across the region sued major South African gold companies for failing to protect them.
After years of litigation, the South African High Court approved a settlement in July 2019, leading to the creation of the Tshiamiso Trust.
The trust now administers once-off compensation payments ranging from R10 000 to R250 000 — and up to R500 000 in exceptional cases.
For many of these men, the trust represents more than money.
It is an acknowledgment of their pain — and a step towards restoring dignity to lives long forgotten by the industry they helped build.
For the first time in decades, the wind seems to be shifting.
A new dawn
The Tshiamiso Trust and Zimbabwe’s National Social Security Authority (NSSA) have launched a joint programme to compensate former mineworkers who contracted silicosis or TB in qualifying South African mines.
The agreement, signed recently in Harare, opens clinics in Harare, Bulawayo and Gweru for medical examinations and claims processing.
Dr Munyadziwa Kwinda, chief executive officer of the Tshiamiso Trust, described the initiative as “a milestone in restoring dignity to Southern Africa’s forgotten miners”.
“We are delivering on the promise made to the men and families who built the mining industry. Thousands of Zimbabweans have waited for decades for this moment,” he said.
NSSA chief executive officer Dr Charles Shava said Zimbabwe is home to many who spent their lives working in South African mines and returned home with illnesses that changed their lives.
“Through this collaboration, we are ensuring that those who qualify can now access the compensation due to them closer to where they live,” he said.
Permanent Secretary in the Ministry of Public Service, Labour and Social Welfare Simon Masanga called the programme “the beginning of long-overdue justice”.
“For too long, these men lived and died in silence. This partnership ensures they are not forgotten,” he noted.
Safe migration
The International Labour Organisation (ILO) estimates that over 7,9 million people in Southern Africa work outside their home countries — many in informal or high-risk sectors.
In Zimbabwe, labour migration remains both an opportunity and a risk.
Recently, the country signed a bilateral labour agreement with Rwanda, formalising the deployment of skilled Zimbabweans in education and health sectors under safe, regulated frameworks.
But not all migration ends in dignity.
Dozens of Zimbabweans, particularly women, have been trafficked to Oman, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, where they were forced into domestic servitude or sexual exploitation under false job promises.
Others, lured by fake recruiters, have been trapped in Asia and Europe, working long hours in care homes or construction sites without pay or protection.
In response, Zimbabwe, with ILO support, has established migration resource centres in Harare, Bulawayo and Mutare — providing pre-departure counselling, legal guidance and information to promote safe migration.
Public Service, Labour and Social Welfare Minister Edgar Moyo said the centres are part of efforts to promote “safe, orderly and dignified migration”.
“Migrants contribute significantly to both host and home economies, but they must never do so at the expense of their rights or dignity,” he said.
For Davison and others like him, those words carry the weight of decades.
He coughs again, then looks towards the fading sunlight.
“The mines took everything. But if what they are saying now is true, maybe justice is finally coming,” he said softly.
His friend Smart nods in agreement.
“They called us cheap labour. But we built nations with our hands.”
