The Sunday Mail
Text: Garikai Mazara Photography: Believe Nyakudjara
Driving into Shurugwi, what catches one’s eyes are the rolling hills and their red soils. Then getting into town, everything assumes the colour of the soil — from the wheels of cars, clothes of small-scale miners, the shop windows (of course the dust is red); in fact anything that has a direct contact with the soil assumes the red colour.
Whilst a newcomer to Shurugwi might be lost to the “red environs” of the gold dust of the town, an eagle-eyed observer might easily make a mental note of top-of-the-range cars, either parked or driving slowly around the town.
If that observer was to make an enquiry as to the ownership of the vehicles, chances are that disappointment might follow, if the enquirer was expecting to hear that the vehicles had driven from as far a place as Harare. For the cars belong to none other than the residents of Shurugwi.
One way or the other, the drivers, rather owners, of these top-of-the range vehicles, are involved in the booming gold trading business that makes Shurugwi tick.
On this particular Sunday there is some English Premiership match on satellite television and most of the bars are packed right up to the door, with the unmistakable overbearing smell of sweat, raw sweat, permeating through right to the entrance.
With the “sport bars” packed to the rafters, expectation would be high that the gold fields, a further five to 10 kilometres to the north of the town, would be empty.
Not so with the surrounds of Wanderer Mine, which is now a sanctuary to hundreds of small-scale miners, euphemistically called makorokoza.
It is not easy to gain the trust of a small-time gold panner, for they are always on high alert, always on the defensive. Wherein 45-year-old Coconut, born Thombizodwa Madzili, came in handy.
A veteran of the land reform exercise, which saw them settling on the edges of Wanderer Mine at the beginning of millennium, Coconut says she has seen it all.
“When we came here we were looking for somewhere to settle, to farm. Then the gold rush started, and we could not be left behind.”
Today she is the bridge between a newly arrived part-time gold panner, who has nothing to his name but just the zeal to look for gold, and the market.
“When most of these panners come here, they will be having nothing. We provide them with the mercury, the tools to use in the mining, the lodgings and the equipment to process the gold ore,” she narrated.
When the part-time gold miner comes from his expedition, he roasts his gold ore in an open fire, before crushing it using a ball mill. The crushed ore is then mixed with mercury in a separation process that is usually carried out by women, who are always on stand-by for such contractual occupations.
After the separation, the part-time gold miner gets his gold, which is usually about 40 percent of the brought gold ore, with the remainder being the “payment” to the owner of the ball mill, mercury, tools, etc.
Characters like Coconut then take the residue, commonly referred to as “mutaka”, to the cyanide plant, for further refining. That is where the 60 percent will be realised.
Whilst this narration of the gold ore, from its source to the market, might sound romantic, rosy and easy as camouflaged by rolling Q7s and other 4x4s in Shurugwi town, what is obtaining on the ground is otherwise.
Running battles are common, running battles usually accompanied by machetes, knives, catapults or anything that incapacitates almost immediately.
“Fights are a common thing here,” said Raynold Dube, who says he got 15 points in last November’s Advanced Level examinations and is currently raising money for further education.
“Either the fights are for rich gold belts, claims or the usual squabbles at the drinking holes.”
Another distraction, complained 44-year-old Macebo Major, is the constant harassment from police details, especially detectives, who reportedly have the knack to confiscate gold from the part-time miners.
“The Government said we should work freely but here we are being harassed by police details who come and take our gold from us, the usual allegation being that it is illegal to possess any gold on one’s person.”
But for Coconut and her peers have a different set of headache.
“Water is a crucial and critical aspect of our operations and we need it daily — and when it is busy we can consume up to 3 000 litres per day per operation — but there are no boreholes here. We have to buy the water from traders who bring it from the town, at $20 for a thousand litres. So if we can get water within our reach, that would help us a lot, as it will reduce some of our operating costs.”
But in all the interactions, not even one of them raised any fears and concerns relating to the use of mercury, which most of them openly use without any form of protection.
For Amina Kawire, the primary concern is feeding her family.
“We have heard that mercury causes problems but for the time being let me deal with the current ones,” she said.
Neither is anyone bothered with how the mercury is disposed of, as it is left to flow into an open pit and with the wet spell currently on, the open pit will easily drain into the ecosystem.
Coconut said they have heard of the dangers of mercury but says there has not been any attempts to educate them on its correct use and disposal.
“Several times we have been told that we are going to be taught on how to use mercury but no-one has ever come to do that.”
