Underground‌ Undermined What really happened in SA mines during Apartheid
Š Malesela Jeremiah Kekana 2010 First published in 2010 by Osborne Porter Literary Services P.O. Box 1957 Westville 3630 South Africa www.osborne-porter.com / www.osborne-porter.co.uk ISBN: 978-0-9814489-8-5 Cover Design and Typesetting: Osborne Porter Literary Services
This book is a true account of events and circumstances experienced by the author but the names of his work colleagues have been changed. Although every effort is made to ensure accuracy, the publishers, personnel, printers, distributors and/or other related parties do not accept any responsibility whatsoever for any errors or omissions, or any effect arising therefrom. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, translated or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.
Underground‌ Undermined What really happened in SA mines during Apartheid
M.J. (Jerry) Kekana
Published by
Acknowledgements This book is a product of countless informal daily talks with numerous individuals about the workplace conditions in the Apartheid era. It includes talks with some overseas student graduates who visited the South African mines while on vacations in the mid nineties. I have placed in this book, mostly my own personal experiences and of those who were working with me either in supervisory positions or as subordinates. I wish to thank Brian Backmann who is a retired Mine Overseer with whom I had a very short stint recently in one of the mining workplaces. Without having read or seen this book; he encouraged me to get this book published when I bounced the idea off him. Furthermore, I would like to thank Helen Osborne and Ginny Porter of Osborne Porter Literary Services and their staff for editing and guiding me in developing this manuscript. I have never written a book before, let alone any serious script, and therefore this manual would not have been a success if it wasn’t because of Osborne Porter Literary Services. Thank you so much.
Dedication To my late parents Betty and Philemon Kekana, who taught me discipline and respect at a very young age. It was through their discipline that I managed to carry myself diligently throughout my working experiences and in life in general. When I started writing this book they were still alive. May their souls rest in peace. To my teenage twins, Jenny and Kenny. Thank you so much for your patience and understanding when I spent countless hours in the bedroom typing this book. We were like strangers in the same house. You missed me and I thank you both for your tolerance.
CONTENTS Introduction Chapter 1 From High School Straight into Industrial Life Chapter 2 Sitting on the Foreman’s Chair Chapter 3 You can run, but you cannot hide Chapter 4 A ‘Sowetan’ Underground Chapter 5 A White-Black Supervisor Chapter 6 Torn Between Performance and Colour Chapter 7 Disciplines and Charges Chapter 8 Overseas Graduates Chapter 9 Too Many Kaffirs Chapter 10 Your New South Africa
INTRODUCTION Many people throughout the world know what happened in South Africa before the political transformation. They know of the many struggles fought by the different political parties that were banned; but managed to operate underground from both within and outside the country. The harassment of blacks in the townships and villages by the Apartheid regime was reported throughout the world. However, few people know of the other side of Apartheid; the ill-treatment and abuse of the most important sector of black community; the workers who worked in the heavy industries of South Africa, like Agriculture, Mining, Domestic and many more work places that help put this country where it is today economically. Because of poverty, most of us were slowly dying a silent, emotional, spiritual and physical death. A death process we could not even share with our loved ones; and it was because of our loved ones that we were undergoing those pains in the workplaces silently. There were a lot of hair-raising racial incidents that happened in most industries then; especially in the mining industry where I worked for the better part of my working career. I am talking about incidents that happened to me personally; incidents that happened to those working close to me and true stories of my colleagues that I interacted with on a daily basis. Like a fly on your lounge or living room wall, “listening and watching everything that you’re doing in the house”; that’s how I was. Normally you would ignore such a fly, especially if it does not bother you by flying around you and interfering with your food or drink. I was one of the first few so-called black officials in the mining industry; and as such I happened to find myself among the whites, especially the Afrikaners who were mainly supervisors at the time. That’s where I learnt of their relationship with their subordinates who were mainly blacks. I was observing everything happening between the two groups. And because I was in the ‘wrong’
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category there were bound to be problems or challenges in my category, hence this book. The book arose as a result of persistent requests from some students from the UK who came to South Africa on the mines during their university vacations around August 1996. They visited one of the Gold Fields of South Africa’s (GFSA) mines where they observed the other side of South Africa; the workplace. As I interacted with them, they started asking me questions about my journey to becoming a black official in the mining industry where there was ‘blatant racism’, as they put it to me. So, I would like to invite you to join me on my journey into the two South African companies; Sasol and GFSA, especially underground on the mines. Those are the two companies I first worked for during the Apartheid era. I would like to add that all statements contained in this book apply to only those companies that I worked for at the time. It reflects exactly my personal experience and the dialogues I had with those that I worked with. I have tried to report the dialogues as raw as they were including the rough language used underground at the time, and therefore I would like to apologize in advance to those of you who might find some of the wording insensitive and offensive. I would have liked to replace some of the words that I used; but unfortunately that would have made those incidents, dialogues, this book and my experience not so authentic. Furthermore, I have used fictional names to avoid bringing the characters, most of whom are still alive today, and their family members into disrepute. I must admit it was difficult writing such a book. Many people who worked on the mines that I know of have spoken of wanting to write a book about their unique experiences on the mines on retirement but have never did so because it is not easy. Underground workings, conditions and work relationships are so dynamic and complicated. It’s unique ‘world’. MALESELA JEREMIAH (Jerry) KEKANA
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Chapter One From High School Straight into Industrial Life ‘Section 10’ was a differentiating code inside one’s ID that indicated whether one was from the rural areas of South Africa or from the townships. I was not even aware of that myself. That simply meant that the blacks who came from the township or urban areas had better job opportunities than those who come from the rural areas. When I took up my first job in my country of South Africa in 1986, it was in an industrial sector. By then I had already rejected two jobs referred to as the black man’s professions. The first job that I rejected was that of a trainee professional nurse at one of the hospitals in the old Bantustan homeland of Lebowa, situated in the north of what was then known as Transvaal; now known as Limpopo. The hospital’s name was Groothoek. After successfully attending the first round of interviews, I was invited for the second round of interviews in Mokopane Hospital, situated in the township of Mahwelereng outside the former Potgietersrus town, now known as Mokopane also in Limpopo. That was round about April in 1985, but I decided not to attend the interviews because I never regarded myself as caring enough to be a nurse. The second job that I also turned down was that of teaching. Although I was not a qualified teacher by profession, my exteacher, who was also a high school principal at my alma mater, Gojela High School, also in Limpopo at Mahwelereng Township saw me as good enough to assist him as a private teacher after completing Matric in 1984. While in Matric, I had made several applications for bursaries,
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but none of them turned out to be successful up until the end of that year. I then decided to visit my former principal at the beginning of 1985 to explain my financial difficulty in the hope that he could advise me on which institutions I could try to approach to get financial assistance. I wanted to further my studies at the university to become a Radiographer but I was seeing my dream of becoming that or a Chemist falling flat in front of me. My parents could not afford to send me to higher institutions to further my studies. My mother was a domestic worker and my father a labourer at a removal company in Benoni; on the East Rand of Gauteng in South Africa. I had thought of my principal not as a financial body, but possibly as someone who would normally have first hand information about other government institutions that could help needy students like me. In those days teachers were like our real parents and some of us confided more in them than in our own parents. My principal gave me details of some government institutions that I should contact for help. But on top of that he offered to employ me as temporary teacher. “Jerry, I think I have an alternative for you in case you see yourself as unemployed; I have a vacant post that needs to be filled immediately. I can employ you on a temporary basis as a private teacher. There is one teacher who was suspended at the end of last year because of drunkenness,” my former principal said. “Sir, I don’t want to disappoint you by turning down your offer, but the thing is, I just cannot imagine myself standing in front of school children with chalk in hand; and beside that, I think I am still too young to teach,” I replied. Having just completed Matric the previous year at the age of eighteen, I thought I was too young to teach at high school. Maybe if it was primary school; teaching younger children, I would have agreed. In those days, teachers were adults who were ‘examples’ to the students in many respects, something I thought I did not possess as a young boy who had just finished Matric.
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