In recent weeks, you might have seen the term ‘zama zama’ everywhere on the news and wondered what it means. 

Today, we help you unpack the history, implications, and way forward of the unfolding artisanal mining crisis in South Africa.

What is a Zama zama?
Zama zamas are illegal artisanal miners. An artisanal miner is someone who mines in abandoned or closed mines using simple tools. Sometimes, zama zamas also target operational mines. The term zama zama originates from IsiZulu and means “take a chance” or even “to try.” So when you hear anyone talking about Zama Zamas, you can safely assume they’re talking about illegal miners.

Where are these Zama Zamas from?

Some of these illegal miners are South Africans who live in mining towns. As the formal mining industry started to decline in the ’90s and the 2000s, many miners were left without jobs, leading to an increase in illegal mining operations. For example, according to Stats SA, in the second quarter of 2024, the mining industry reported  6926 job losses. In addition to the 2696 jobs lost in the year’s first quarter, 9622 people in the mining sector lost their jobs. 

Many others come from our neighbouring countries, particularly Lesotho, Zimbabwe and Mozambique. Many are illegal immigrants looking for opportunities, but with no access to formal work, they turn to illegal mining. According to the Minerals Council of South Africa, 90% of arrested illegal miners are undocumented immigrants.

Why are they illegally mining?

South Africa’s formal mining industry is in decline, leading to job cuts and illegal mining operations being on the rise. The Minerals Council admits that while individual miners might be acting out of economic desperation, most illegal mining operations are often organised and carried out by organised crime syndicates directly linked to the lucrative illicit trade in precious metals and diamonds.

The Directorate for Priority Crime Investigation (Hawks) head, Lieutenant General Godfrey Lebeya, recently echoed this. For example, last year, in the small mining town of Carletonville, six alleged illegal mining kingpins were arrested. They singled out one man, Bethuel Eddie Ngobeni, as the mastermind. In recent times, 154 miners were rescued, and three bodies were recovered in Sabie, Mpumalanga. It’s believed that many of them were held in the disused shaft against their will and forced to mine for gold. 

These syndicates are not homogenous, according to mining security expert Louis Nel. The kingpins are known to the authorities and were, sometimes, the said authorities. “And, make no mistake, the police are well aware of who they should hold accountable, but I’ve seen with my own eyes how they, too, are profiting from this industry. Once, I was sitting with a white gold dealer when a police car stopped near us, and a woman got out to ask if he wanted to buy gold from her. It was gold she had confiscated from a zama zama and wanted to sell,” Nel recounts.

How much does illegal mining cost the country?

It’s estimated that illegal mining costs over R70 billion annually in gold alone, resulting in huge revenue losses for both the government and the mining sector.

Can anything be done?

Organisations like The World Bank and the International Institute for Sustainable Development (IISD) advocate legalising artisanal mining. According to key insights from the IISD, “Formalising the sector would bring ASM’s informal income-earning activities and economies into the formal sector through legal, regulatory and policy frameworks.” A report from the World Bank called for governments to regulate artisanal mining. “The World Bank’s new approach, articulated in a new report, champions the professionalisation and social well-being of artisanal and small-scale miners, urging governments to play a leading role in regulating and supporting sustainable ASM practices to achieve national growth targets,” the statement stated. 

Back at home, MEC for Community Safety in the North West Wessels Morweng said work was being done to address the bigger issue. He said this at the abandoned mine in Stilfontein where zama zamas have been trapped for weeks, fearing arrest from the South African Police Service’s (SAPS) Operation Vala Umgodi. 

“There’s a plan on the part of government to see how best we can help people to mine. Those ones will be considered because they are not criminals,” said Morweng. 

As we tackle the issue of zama zamas in Mzansi, it’s essential to remember that not all zama zamas are part of ruthless syndicates terrorising rural and township communities. Some are simply people just trying to make a living. In her 2022 documentary, ‘We are Zama Zama’, anthropologist and author Rosalind Morris sought to tell the stories of zama zamas. One zama zama, a woman named Sarah Muchimba, said that there was no work. “Even … for domestic work, sometimes, they ask you for ID or a passport. You don’t have a passport. You’re just a regular person. You came from the bush, you’re a nobody. … We are still here, but the hardships are real,” said Muchimba.

The reasons, while varied, always lead back to the inequality and corruption in South Africa. Our high unemployment rate and porous borders give leverage to the kingpins of these syndicates to keep operation. Authorities should focus on the head of the illegal mining snake instead of the small fry often trapped in mines. Then, we can start finding innovative solutions to fixing the problem.