Breaking societal barriers: From widow to miner

By Vuyisile Hlatshwayo

Rather than succumbing to despair, Thandi Vilakati has defied the odds, navigating life’s challenges with resilience and determination following the tragic loss of her sole family breadwinner in a car accident. In 2000, she shattered gender norms in a male-dominated labour-sending country, following in the footsteps of her late husband to become the first female liSwati migrant mineworker.

When Vilakati was left to raise six young children on her own, the drive to provide for them became more compelling than the dangers of working deep within the South African gold mines. Like many other emaSwati migrant mineworkers, she believed the mines held the key to salvation, offering a lifeline for her family in a time of dire need.

Her decision to enter the mining industry was influenced by her upbringing as the daughter of an asbestos mineworker. She grew up in the now-deserted Bulembu Mine compound in the northern Hhohho region, where her father worked at the Bulembu Havelock Asbestos Mine. After dropping out of primary school, Vilakati married at the age of 16. When her husband tragically passed away at 32, she was left to care for their six children, ranging in age from 11 months to 11 years.

“When I was 27, in 1997, my husband was killed in a car accident. Our children were very young. Our firstborn was 11, the second-born was 9, the third-born was 6, the twins were 3, and the youngest was only 11 months old,” Vilakati recalls. “When the community women came to comfort me, I wanted to shut my ears. I couldn’t understand why God allowed my children to lose their father and provider. And I couldn’t accept the painful reality that I had to become the breadwinner.”

Her path to mining employment was unexpected. She initially travelled to Manzini in search of unclaimed funds for her late husband, hoping his name would appear on a list of eligible claimants. However, she found only foreign nationals on the list. Trusted by other claimants, Vilakati was asked to travel to Welkom, South Africa, to find the correct list. That journey would ultimately lead her to a career in mining.

Upon realizing her search was futile, she decided to pursue work at Carletonville, the hub of South Africa’s Far West Witwatersrand goldfields. There, she secured a position at the West Deep No.1 Mine, working at a conveyor belt from 2000 to 2014.

“I arrived in Carletonville with no official application papers, but I was fortunate. The receptionist at West Deep No.9 was kind and referred me to West Deep No.1, where I met a manager who, after reviewing my children’s birth certificates, hired me on the spot,” Vilakati recalls.

Her employer, recognizing her unique position as the first liSwati female mineworker, even paid for her return fare to finalize the work contract at The Employment Bureau of Africa (TEBA) in Mbabane. Her arrival at TEBA made her a local celebrity.

However, taking on the job came with its own set of challenges, particularly convincing her mother that it was a legitimate form of work. Initially, her mother assumed she was heading into prostitution, a belief that changed once she began receiving her monthly pay.

“I opened a bank account for my mother at TEBA so she could receive money from my salary. She loved it, and soon she was the first person to wake me up to ensure I didn’t miss the Zeeman Bus Service to work,” Vilakati says. “I’m deeply grateful to her for looking after my children while I worked to support them. It was tough, but I managed to fulfil my obligations.”

Life in the South African mines, though, was not without hardship. Vilakati had no social life and spent her free time honing her sewing skills, which she had learned from her mother. Housed separately in the male-dominated compound, she found sewing a comforting escape, a way to relax and earn extra income.

When asked about sexual harassment by her male colleagues, Vilakati describes the atmosphere as generally respectful. The mine management had trained the workers on how to treat their female counterparts, and any reported incidents of harassment were swiftly addressed.

Yet, her experiences at the West Deep No.1 Mine were not without trauma. The sight of mangled bodies of mineworkers, victims of fatal accidents, haunted her.

“When I started working in the mine, I was terrified of heights. The sight of dead miners, their bodies crushed beyond recognition, was stomach-turning. But I slowly grew accustomed to it. I had no other option but to push through and provide for my children,” she says.

Vilakati also recalls being exploited by her employer. After sustaining a hand injury, she was not given injury leave. Instead, her manager forced her to clock in and remain in the office, ensuring that she would not be compensated under South Africa’s Mines Health and Safety Act (MHSA) No.29 of 1996.

“I was young and afraid to lose my job, which was my only means of survival,” she admits.

Despite her struggles, Vilakati found herself back in eSwatini in 2014. However, after receiving treatment for tuberculosis while working in the mines, she now suffers from persistent chest pains. She suspects that she may be experiencing a resurgence of TB or silicosis due to her exposure to silica dust. Shockingly, recent medical tests from the Tshiamiso Trust cleared her of any occupational diseases, despite her symptoms.

“I’ve had persistent chest pains, and I was coughing up blood, but when I received the Tshiamiso Trust results, they said I was healthy. It’s frustrating, especially when you have all the symptoms, and they tell you nothing’s wrong,” she says.

The Tshiamiso Trust clarified that while a miner may be diagnosed with TB, the Trust only compensates for permanent lung damage resulting from the disease, as outlined in the Trust’s specific medical eligibility criteria. Vilakati was advised to file a dispute if she believed the diagnosis was incorrect.

In the face of a collapsed health system and the closure of two occupational health service centres, Vilakati has little recourse for medical care. She relies on over-the-counter medications and herbal remedies from street vendors to ease her discomfort.

With the closure of two Global Fund-sponsored Occupational Health Service Centres (OCHSCs), and only one partially functioning in Manzini, former mineworkers like Vilakati struggle to access the care they desperately need. Acting National TB Program Manager Siphiwe Ngwenya confirmed the OCHSC closures and urged ex-miners to visit the remaining service centre, staffed only by a skeleton crew from the National TB Hospital.

Today, Vilakati ekes out a living as a small-time dressmaker in Mbabane’s Four-Square Building. The mining industry, dominated by male workers, has long been an emblem of gender inequality. According to the 2023 Intergovernmental Forum on Mining, Minerals, Metals and Sustainable Development (IGF)  Global Report, men account for 85% of the workforce in large-scale mining globally, a stark reminder of the uphill battle women like Vilakati face in this industry.

Her story is a testament to her resilience and an enduring fight to break barriers, provide for her children, and secure a future against all odds.