In Mazowe’s Mines, Women Carve Their Place, but Danger Still Looms

BY NATHAN GUMA

ANESU Gomba’s day starts before dawn, as she gets her children ready for the long day ahead in Mazowe, where she goes to pan for gold.

“The day starts early, long before the sun,” says the mother of three. “I have to get the children ready. I prepare their food for the day, usually sadza and whatever relish we have and make sure they are dressed for school.

Before that, she has to do all the chores, fetch water, make the fire and even do some laundry.

“It’s a rush, but I must get to the site by sunrise. That’s when the work starts,” she says.

She is an example of several other women who have now broken into artisanal mining, an area once known to be occupied by men.

Artisanal mining is usually a dog-eat-dog contest, characterised by fighting, and in this area, often associated with machete-wielding gangs whose sole purpose is to steal gold from other artisanal miners.

Small scale and artisanal miners also contribute most of the gold to Fidelity Printers and Refiners, according to data from Zimbabwe’s Monetary Policy Statements.

In other nearby areas like Masasa, a hilly region close to Jumbo Mine, fatalities from these gangs are even worse, with the place usually being a no-go area for new artisanal miners seeking greener pastures.

But for Anesu, from the Njanji area in Concession – named after the railway that passes by, stretching to Harare, Zimbabwe’s capital – such areas are what she calls home.

“I live here. It’s just me and my three children. The eldest is ten, the youngest is only four. This is my home, my family’s land, but making a life here. It is a struggle, but I always still find my way through,” she says.

She feels protected at times as she works among men.

“Our main job is to clean ore. The men, the proper miners, they bring out the ore from the pits. Our job is to take that rock and crush it, then wash it and pan it to separate the gold dust. We don’t work by the Mazowe River though. The river is far from here,” she says.

Ore processing
Despite the protection she and other female artisanal miners receive, she says the major hurdle they face is water for cleaning the ore.

“That is another cost, another problem. Some men have laid down water pipes from the river to this site. They control the water. We have to pay them for it. So, before we can even start to hope for money, we have already spent money,” she says.

“The water comes through these plastic pipes, and we fill our buckets. If the pipe breaks, or if they decide to charge more, we are helpless. Our whole work depends on that water.”

How much she gets
While she makes money from her work, she says most of it is lost to barons who control the water.

“It depends on the day, on the ore, on luck, and on the water price. On a very good day, if the ore is rich and we process a lot, I can make up to $50, but that is before I pay for the water and my other costs,” she says.

“That feels like a miracle. I can buy meat, pay school fees, and even save a little. But those days are rare. Most days, I make around $10. After paying for the water, sometimes I am left with just enough for a bag of mealie-meal. You go to bed wondering if you worked all day for nothing.”

Protective clothing
Her main tool is an old hammer, and she has no mask, putting her at risk of inhaling dust throughout the day.

“Our hands are always cut and stained as we use no gloves. No boots, just our old shoes. We know it’s not good for our health, but what choice do we have? The choice is between breathing dust and watching your children go hungry,” she says.

Police
Every day, she is always on the lookout for police, as they often raid this area and others surrounding it.

“The police come often. Sometimes they just want a bribe, and if you can give them a little something, money we don’t have, they leave you alone. Other times, they are aggressive,” she says.

“They can cut the water pipes, confiscate our tools, our ore, and sometimes they arrest people. We have to run, to scatter and hide. It is humiliating and frightening. We are just trying to feed our families, but we are treated like criminals in our own land.”

Despite this, Anesu says that her children are her motivation.

“When my youngest runs to me and holds my dusty legs, when I see them sleeping peacefully at night because their stomachs are full, that is why,” she says.

“There are no other jobs here. This is the only way I know to keep a roof over our heads and food in their mouths. So, I will wake up tomorrow before the sun, and I will do it all again. For them.”

Senior researcher at the Nordic Africa Institute, Gracian Mukodzongi, says there is a need for the country to formalise artisanal mining if it is to achieve Vision 2030, where mining is viewed as a driver of economic development.

“The idea is always that, even from the government’s policies, that mining is going to transform Zimbabwe’s economy. But that cannot happen if you marginalise local people,” he says.

“We have seen, for example, in the lithium mining sector and in the chromium mining sector, that artisanal miners who tend to be local people are excluded through deliberate government legislation which criminalises them.

“The lithium was actually discovered by the artisanal miners. But following a ban by the government of Zimbabwe, we have seen the artisanal and small-scale miners being pushed out. Now, most of the small-scale miners in the country are illegal.”

He says that without legal status, these miners are locked out of formal markets, driving trade underground and costing the government valuable revenue.

“If you don’t have the papers, that paperwork you cannot sell. So then the people that buy the parallel market, the illicit trade, they are always ready to buy that gold, whatever, chrome,” he says.

“So the government then loses. We need to have policies that recognise their role, but it is also important that we formalise them so that they are also able to contribute in terms of economic development, like paying taxes, like rehabilitating mined-out areas.”

Zimbabwe has already proposed the Mines and Minerals Bill of 2025, which is set to replace the Mines and Minerals Act crafted in 1961, and will recognise artisanal miners.

However, more miners like Gomba are still located at the peripheries of the mining food chain, despite making inroads.

“It is my wish to see us working under normal conditions at some point where we are not chased by police, as this can sometimes become very deadly,” she says.