A tourist magnet, this small town in South Africa faces its own Covid-19 crisis, but the outdoors still entice. 



In the northeastern region of South Africa, nestled in the verdant Mpumalanga province is a capital city named Nelspruit, now known as Mbombela, a stunning and popular getaway for city-dwellers and tourists from other parts of the country.



Personal reasons took me to Mbombela recently, with special permission to move between provinces. And in the current pandemic, with no tourists flocking to the town to admire its iconic scenery or engage with the friendly locals, I had all the time and space to soak it in and capture it all on camera.



I arrived here around noon by road from Soweto, the vibrant township where I reside, 371kms away in Johannesburg.



Mpumalanga was warm in comparison with the wintry Gauteng province, which Soweto is a part of.



Although in the same country, the two provinces have many obvious differences, but the conversations and concerns around the coronavirus pandemic were the same, when I was there.



Despite Mpumalanga recording lower infection rates – and hardly any power cuts as in Gauteng – the face-mask was a common motif here too, from the petrol stations to the parking lots.



An old family friend came to pick me up in a small town called White River. He had arranged a safe place for me to rest and work in at the Kabokweni township, where he resides. The driving was different. I am used to Johannesburg’s beautiful tarred roads but this time, I was up in the bumpy mountains in my 1.4-liter car. I was worried because the locals were speeding up and down and I had to be extra-careful as I negotiated my way up to my place of stay.



I was now settled and able to respond to work emails, make calls and even sample the province’s tap water (although I prefer the water in Johannesburg). The next morning, it was back to business. I was up early like any professional photographer to catch the early rays of the Mpumalanga sun. It was enchanting. My friend and I wore our masks and gloves and topped our hand-sanitizers. We walked down the hill and the first stop was at the local eatery where women were rustling up African cuisine on the side of the road. They could tell I was not a resident because of my accent, but didn’t mind me photographing them. 



About a kilometer down the road, was a church that I had spotted enroute to my accommodation the previous day. I was intrigued by the architecture of this Lutheran Church.&nbsp;



As we continued walking and admiring the landscape, keeping clear of speeding cars, I also spotted a mosque on the horizon, and couldn’t leave without capturing it. We walked up to it and spoke to the caretaker about how they were practising social distancing here.



On our way back, I heard that 13 nurses had tested Covid-19 positive at the local clinic, so the town’s inhabitants had started taking the virus seriously. However, I did discover the face-mask-and-social-distancing rules were being flouted considerably at the shopping malls.



Well before my return to Johannesburg, I had picked up and could now speak a new language: siSwati (Bantu language spoken in eSwatini and South Africa by the Swazi people). I was fascinated by how the locals spoke it and I didn’t really care about what they were saying to me; I just wanted them to keep talking. I have since become a new convert to tuning in to siSwati news on the telly every day, still enthralled by how much a small town can teach fast-paced city-dwellers like me.

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The Road Trip To Mbombela

The dirt road to Christopher Mazibuko’s house in Louieville, in South Africa’s Mpumalanga province, is rocky, quiet and roamed by skinny goats.
Mazibuko lives in a single room, made of mud, in Louieville, 20 minutes from Lily Mine that took the life of his wife.
On this bright Sunday afternoon, Mazibuko is wearing casual clothes. He sits on his doorstep; with friends sharing a beer – maybe alcohol eases the pain.
It has been a year since the fatal accident at the Vantage Goldfields-owned Lily Mine, near Barberton, where three people – Mazibuko’s wife Pretty Nkambule, Yvonne Mnisi and Solomon Nyarende – were buried in rubble.
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Lily Mine began as an oxide open pit operation, in 2000, and became a shallow, underground operation.
It has been a year since we last saw Mazibuko. On that day, soon after the tragedy, he was sitting on a small bench, cradling his seven-month-old daughter and five-year-old son. There was the agony of both hope and despair in their eyes.
Mazibuko will never forget his last day with his wife, one of the three entombed in a steel container, 80 meters underground, after a crown pillar collapsed at the open pit gold mine, on February 5, 2016. He shakes his head and sheds a tear.
On that fateful day, Mazibuko, who also works at the mine, was on leave.
He woke up early to prepare a lunchbox for Nkambule and walked her to the bus station. Little did he know that it would be their last walk together.
“She didn’t want me to make her a bigger lunchbox because she thought she’d return home in the afternoon,” he says.
At 7:30AM the bus came to fetch her and the two waved goodbye for the last time.
Around 8AM Mazibuko received a phone call from Nkambule, telling him that she had arrived safely.
“She asked me if I had seen the R200 ($15) she left for me under the mattress to buy the baby food,” he says.
Ten minutes later, before Mazibuko could go to the shop, a neighbor came rushing to his house telling him that he heard that the mine had collapsed.
Mazibuko didn’t believe it and accompanied the neighbor to the mine with the baby strapped on his back.
What makes it more tragic is that Nkambule was supposed to be on leave, but a colleague asked her to stand in for her.
It was a normal day, around 8AM, 115 people had clocked in. Ten minutes later, to the sounds of machinery grinding into life, Nkambule and the lamp room operators had just handed workers lamps.
“I was in the last container; we were having a casual conversation. Then we heard a loud sound, almost like a tyre bursting,” says Henry Sono, an eyewitness, who worked at the mine for 16 years.
“Everything happened so fast. We saw the ground shaking and sinking before swallowing the container with the three trapped. We watched in fear as there was nothing anyone could have done. I left my glasses, my wallet and everything because I had to run for my life,” says Sono.
“I’m confused because everybody who was underground got out but a container that was on the surface sank, why?… And I think they died the same day and same time. There’s absolutely no way you can be trapped underground for a year and still come out alive.”
Rob Devereux, a business rescue practitioner, says it might still take up to a year to retrieve the container. Rescue operations can’t start until enough money is raised.
“We need R130 million ($9.7 million) to develop a decline shaft and then we’ll assess the situation and decide the best way to retrieve it. We sent cameras down and it is extremely dangerous, especially for the rescuers. So, it might take us about more than eight months to get to the container,” says Devereux.
The three missing workers were all breadwinners. Mazibuko will have to raise the children alone.
“At the moment the children are with their aunt because I can’t take care of them, I can’t even buy myself food. The kids have even forgotten about their mother,” he says.
About 600 workers have been left without jobs since the mine collapsed.
In March last year, Mineral Resources Minister, Mosebenzi Zwane, promised families of the trapped a R200,000 ($15,000) compensation and workers who survived R50,000 ($3,750) each. They claim they’ve seen nothing.
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Workers and families are hungry and confused.
“The mine and unions don’t communicate with us. They should tell us what’s happening. I’m slowly losing hope of ever getting my wife out,” says Mazibuko.
The mineworkers last got paid in March last year. Sono has 12 children, he says it’s tough.
“The mine says it doesn’t have money to pay us. We are hungry; we can’t even support our families. They sometimes give us food parcels but it doesn’t happen every month,” says Sono.
At the mine, a young strapping man in a khaki uniform, black boots and a rifle slung over his shoulder, guards the locked gate at the entrance. All the families want is the return of the bodies so they can mourn.

The anguish Of Those left behind

Anger Over This Mine   That Became A Tomb

The road to the mining misery, in Louieville, Mpumalanga, is a picture of poverty; roads are crumbling and children roam the streets barefoot.
It has been five months since the fatal accident at the Vantage Goldfields, Lily Mine, near Barberton, Mpumalanga, and three people are buried in the rubble.
Yvonne Mnisi, Pretty Nkambule and Solomon Nyarende were buried, 80 meters underground on February 5, in a steel container where a crown pillar collapsed at the open pit gold mine.
Everyday Nkambule’s husband, 39-year-old December Mazibuko, wakes up to what he calls another day in hell.
We meet Mazibuko at his house made of mud, in Louieville, 20 minutes away from Lily Mine. He is on his way to apply for a child support grant at the clinic for his 10-month-old baby. Mazibuko says he had his last meal two days ago. With an empty fridge and electricity on zero units, Mazibuko lives on handouts.
“It’s tough,” says Mazibuko.
“I haven’t eaten. I sometimes get help from my family and neighbors, if they don’t come, it gets hard. I don’t know what to do and where to go to. The shops don’t give us food anymore because they know we don’t get paid anymore,” says Mazibuko, who worked at Lily Mine for nine years.
About 600 workers have been left without jobs since the mine collapsed.
In March, Mineral Resources Minister, Mosebenzi Zwane, promised families of the trapped a R200,000 (around $13,800) compensation and workers who survived R50,000 (around $3,500) each. The workers claim they’ve seen nothing.
“We didn’t get any money. They’ve been promising to pay us the money, ‘til now we haven’t received it,” says Mazibuko.
“We are very hungry. From now until December, the situation is going to get worse. How are we going to send our children to school? Already most of them are no longer going to school. I just want the bosses to pay us, if they can’t, then they should tell us. This is unfair,” says a Lily Mine worker, who didn’t want to be named.
On the day of the tragedy, 115 people clocked in for work and nearly all were rescued. The three missing were working in a steel container, used as a lamp room, which crashed down a sinkhole.
Rob Devereux, a business rescue practitioner, says they needed to raise R200 million (around $13.8 million) to dig a declined shaft 500 meters away from the sinkhole.
“We are in the process of raising the money. We offered all workers voluntary severance packages. Once we receive the funding, we’ll settle the workers’ salaries and rehire them,” says Devereux.
He says it might take up to a year for the mine to reopen.
“It will take about eight months to develop the rescue operation and the mine will open three months after that.”
Joseph Montisetsi, Deputy President of the National Union of Mineworkers, says they are planning to march to the Department of Mineral Resources (DMR) in Johannesburg.
“We are calling on the DMR, as the regulator, that it must be in the forefront to make sure that the three employees trapped underground are rescued,” says Montisetsi.
The three missing workers were all breadwinners.
Dead or alive, the families say they want to find closure.
“We just want the mine to get Solomon out from the ground so that we as the Nyarendes can bury him,” says Wanda Nyarende, a cousin.
Through it all, Mazibuko hopes that his wife is still alive. Like most at this mine he feels abandoned.

A Despairing Demand From The Desperate

The people here call it Mpumalanga – the place where the sun rises. Every morning when the light grips Louisville, 40 kilometers from Barberton, December Mazibuko and Jabulile Nyarende, wake up to another day in hell.
For weeks, they prayed for Yvonne Mnisi, Pretty Nkambule and Solomon Nyarende – three of their family trapped in a steel container, 80 meters underground after a crown pillar collapsed at the open pit gold mine, Lily Mine, on February 5.
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Nkambule’s family lives in a house made of mud in Louisville, 20 minutes away from Lily Mine. Her husband, Mazibuko, sits on a small bench, cradling their seven-month-old daughter and five-year-old son. There is the agony of hope and despair in their eyes.
“This haunts me every day, I can’t even begin to explain the pain I’m feeling right now. If they come out alive I would be grateful, but at this point we are ready to accept any news. Even if they are dead we want their bodies, because we want closure,” says Mazibuko, who also works at Lily Mine.
The three missing workers are all breadwinners. Mazibuko will have to raise four children alone.
“I am so heartbroken, if I could go down and rescue them myself, I would. Whenever I look at my sister’s husband and children my heart tears into pieces. Everything has been done, but still nothing,” says Nkambule’s older sister, Phindile Nkambule.
As the drills bore away at the mine, families of the trapped believed more could be done.
“The situation is painful, because they are taking a long time to get those people out. I believe that the management is not doing enough to rescue them. They should look at other means of getting the three out,” says Mazibuko.
“A ritual is done at all mines, but it has never been done here. There were signs that something like this would happen. People have been hurt countless times in that mine and we’ve been telling the managers to do a ritual, but they keep refusing… all they care about is making money.”
On the day of the tragedy, 115 people clocked in for work and nearly all were rescued.
The three missing were working in a steel container, used as a lamp room, which crashed down a sink hole.
Jabulile Nyarende, Solomon’s aunt, remains hopeful that her nephew will come out alive.
“What is frustrating me the most is that Solomon used to take care of his mother who is mentally ill. Who is going to take care of her now? But, I serve a living God and I believe that in this situation, he would never forsake us,” she says.
Three collapses delayed the rescue. One saw a large part of a hill fall into the hole where the container was. The rescue team suffered another setback when a drill broke.
“A rescue mission has begun, and the plan is to drill a hole 800 meters away from the sinkhole,” says Mike Begg, Operations Director at Lily Mine, at the gates of the mine on February 23.
The drilling will take three weeks to be completed.
This disaster came days after the South African Chamber of Mines celebrated the lowest fatalities in the history of mining.
In 2015, it was reported that 77 mineworkers died underground, the lowest number on record.
“South African mines are failing dismally to comply with the safety rules and regulations of mines… It’s a really sad situation,” says Jeff Mphahlele, Secretary General of the Association of Mineworkers and Construction Union (Amcu).
“We are concerned about the safety of mines in this country because this is the third incident to happen in three months,” says Sahlulele Luzipho, Chairperson of the Portfolio Committee on Mineral Resources.
“We need to find a way to tighten up the rules where safety compliance is concerned.”
So do the families of the three missing mineworkers of Lily Mine.

Entering the site of the 4,800MW coal-fired Kusile power station in the northeast South African province of Mpumalanga, one has to clear the security checkpoint and forget about taking any unauthorized pictures. The site is large, covering 1,355 hectares, and buzzing with activity.
Abram Masango, the general manager of Kusile with a mechanical engineering background, started out at steel company Columbus Stainless before moving to state-owned power utility Eskom, working on the company’s Hendrina power station, one of the country’s oldest and the only one with 10 units, to establish the $2.4 billion Mpumalanga project. This included refurbishing power stations and constructing the Majuba Rail – running between Ermelo and the Majuba power station.
In 2004, a five-year, $13.1-billion investment plan in the country’s electricity infrastructure was approved by cabinet. This was changed to $22.2 billion for the five years to 2011/2012. Generation projects absorbed around 70% of the funds.
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More recently, state-owned enterprises were allocated $39.1 billion of the public capital expenditure for the next three fiscal years. The public sector’s energy infrastructure will get $18.2 billion of this.
Eskom’s major energy source is coal, but it hopes to bring down its share in the primary energy mix to 70%, from its original 88%, while increasing its nuclear energy portion to between 17 and 25%, all by 2025.
Masango was brought in to run the Kusile project in late 2007. A decision was made to build it in eight years, instead of the standard 10. The team went with a multiple contract approach, divided into 62 packages.
Eskom didn’t feel it had a choice in the fast-tracking of Kusile because of the power shortage the country is experiencing. As for elements falling through the cracks, the team is adamant that managing the project as a world-class one, as well as placing the necessary skills in place, has prevented quality being compromised.
The Unit 2 TG block had to be destroyed and redone because of a quality problem.
“As much as we are fast-tracking, we are not taking a shortcut. We do sometimes have some quality challenges, and we pick them up and then solve them,” says Masango.
“If we compromise on quality, we will kill people.”
Another Eskom project currently underway is the 4,400MW, $10-billion Medupi power station. It is the fourth largest coal plant in the southern hemisphere and the biggest dry-cooled power plant in the world. It was originally slated to start generating electricity in 2011 but there have been numerous delays, ranging from faulty welding to strikes. French company Alstom was contracted to develop the Boiler Protection System (BPS) and Balance of Plant (BOP) control systems which repeatedly failed testing. Siemens was then brought in to work on the BPS for Unit 5 and 6 with Alstom. Alstom’s BOP has since passed the factory acceptance test.
Masango says that Kusile also experienced strikes but managed them better than Medupi.
Both Kusile and Medupi are important due to the power shortage problem in South Africa. It was in 2007 that the country first faced countrywide load shedding. More power emergencies came this year, with load shedding and blackouts.
In 2010, Eskom encountered a funding problem and Kusile could only continue on a skeleton base, while long term commitments continued. Funds were also redirected from Medupi, while Eskom tried to find a solution. In April 2010, the Development Bank of Southern Africa announced a $2 billion loan to Eskom. The World Bank approved another for $3.75 billion.
“The loan is provided to South Africa’s power utility, Eskom, and was brought about by unique circumstances including South Africa’s energy crisis of 2007 and early 2008, and the global financial crisis that exposed the country’s vulnerability to an energy shock and severe economic consequences,” the World Bank said in a statement.
Three billion dollars of the loan was earmarked for Medupi.
The funding plan took two years. It was in 2012 that construction on Kusile resumed at full steam, but not all the components were ready due to contracts having been put on hold. This came with some engineering integration challenges.
Eskom had to take on some of the design elements of the project, while waiting to give out contracts, in order to get part of the project &#8211; mainly the foundation &#8211; to continue. Some contractors had been given limited notice to proceed &#8211; for example placing a contract on the design of a component so that the specs could be given to another company that is responsible for that part of the project.
Kusile faced what Masango calls political, stability and unemployment challenges. It established a contractor academy providing eight months of intensive training for emerging companies in order to equip them with the skills needed to participate in the project.
Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) was a big component to consider. Kusile had an agreement with contractors to only bring their core people and then employ 60% from the surrounding communities. With time the team realized a new strategy with procurement conditions, forming joint ventures between large and emerging companies. To date, 409 companies have, in some way, participated in the project at a cost of close to $6.2 billion.
The two weeks of heavy rainfall during March set the project back a month. At the end of April it was almost 60% complete and the working goal is to get the entire plant operational by 2018. Unit 1 will be commissioned the second half of 2015. As of the end of March, construction on Medupi sat at 61%, with $7.4 million of the budget spent. Unit 6 is expected to be synchronized in the second half of 2014.
Due to growth, infrastructure is needed for capacity regardless of whether it’s coal, nuclear or otherwise. Last year a reported $130-million loan from France was granted to Eskom, to help finance its solar power projects. The trick, according to Masango, is trying to have a balanced mix – while bearing in mind that South Africa is still reliant on coal-fired plants.
According to Masango, Kusile has tried to ensure it is environmentally friendly &#8211; incorporating flue gas desulphurization, fabric filter plant, and supercritical design boilers which all decrease the air pollution that the plant emits. Medupi, and possibly some of the other plants, will in the future get these technologies as well.
A lot of the criticism of Eskom is about how the company has been managed.
“I think it’s also time that we [Eskom] go out and tell the public that they have to trust us because we’re doing our utmost best to deliver and make sure we keep the lights on,” says Masango.
Eskom has a lot to prove and only time will tell whether they can truly deliver this time.

The Long Crawl  To Electricity

Growing up was not easy for Daphne Mashile-Nkosi, but it prepared her for the troubles of mining. The manganese tycoon had a tough time breaking through the sector, especially as a woman. She was ousted from her own company, Kalahari Resources, but has since returned to reclaim her rightful throne and is recruiting more women to join her.
Born in Pilgrims Rest in Mpumalanga, South Africa, as the youngest of four children, Mashile-Nkosi lived with her grandmother until she moved to Soweto in Johannesburg, to join her mother. Her family moved around constantly and rented backrooms in the township. Her mother, a seamstress, would go hungry to ensure that she could provide as much as possible for her children, who she was raising single-handedly. It was from her that Mashile-Nkosi learned the power of staying. Her father, a general dealer who owned a football club, was quite the opposite and had little to do with his family.
The children at school looked down on her because she once brought a soggy sandwich for lunch, had a second-hand uniform and walked for kilometers to get an education. Poor families, such as hers, received a parcel of peanut butter and powdered milk from the government. Because of her humble beginnings, she vowed to rise above poverty.
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“I think those are the things that actually shaped me and made me the strong person that I am,” says Mashile-Nkosi.
There was much she would have to endure first. Teachers called her an ugly duckling and kept her from certain activities because her clothes were worn. But Mashile-Nkosi was a bright child who soared through school. In 1976, she needed $0.17 (R1.80) to write her final exams. She did the washing and ironing for her neighbor to pay the exam fee.
“What you put in is what you get out, there’s no manna that is going to fall from heaven,” says Mashile-Nkosi.
These humbling experiences made her conscious of her words and actions. Today, she has an undisputable love for clothes that stems from growing up in a time when, as a black person, your appearance showed that you had made it big.
She believes that one is shaped by numerous factors: school, parents, the environment and the status quo. This philosophy stems from the help she received throughout her journey. It is she who lends a helping hand to others these days.
Mashile-Nkosi’s next struggle was against apartheid. In her final school year, she participated in the 1976 Soweto Uprising that saw thousands of black pupils take to the streets in protest against the compulsory use of Afrikaans in schooling. The backlash killed many school children and caused uproar around the world.
It was among the activists that Mashile-Nkosi felt she finally belonged. Between 1976 and 1991, she became an underground operative for the African National Congress (ANC). In 1991, when it was clear that democracy would be imminent and the ANC was unbanned, she was a member of a welfare organization that helped return 1976 exiles.
She paid for her activism with her time as she was detained on several occasions. The first of which was a nine-month stint in solitary confinement. The authorities labeled her “a threat to the security of the state,” according to section three of the Security Act. They were long and desperate days under lock and key.
Mashile-Nkosi was so determined to speak to the person in the neighboring cell that she used a blanket to soak up the water from the toilet, her neighbor did the same. Then she covered her head with the blanket, so as not to be heard, and used the toilet as a telephone.
Years later she worked at retail and furniture stores and then at an IT company, but always struggled to settle.
“I was fired so many times. I then realized that I can never be employed. I was a performer at work but my big mouth wouldn’t allow it. I became a troublemaker because I asked the difficult questions,” she says.
This led her to establish an IT company, Temoso Telecommunication. She won a $9.03-million (R100-million) contract, but gave it away because she felt that she did not have the experience, money or the capacity needed to deliver on the project.
“I was not ready for it. Rather than mess up my name I’d rather give it to someone who could deliver,” she says.
It was in 1998 that Mashile-Nkosi’s foray into mining began, when mining businessman Sipho Nkosi, of no relation to her – who had occupied senior positions at Anglo-American Coal Corporation and BHP Billiton – approached her to start a coal mining company, Eyesizwe Coal, with him.
Mining was in her blood. Her grandfather, like many in those days, was a miner for Transvaal Gold Mining Enterprise. As the only woman in Eyesizwe, she wanted to bring more onboard. Her partner gave her a 24-hour deadline to do so. Strangely enough, she found a chartered accountant from the women’s consortium that had fired her by fax years earlier.
The story goes like this: a member of the consortium called to ask that she wait by her work fax machine for a very important document. An excited Mashile-Nkosi was not expecting what came next. Hurt and ashamed, she hid the letter in her bag and sat alone, until another member mentioned that she too had received the same fax.
Mashile-Nkosi became a rebel at Eyesizwe. After two years, she decided to start a mining company, Kalahari Resources, with the hope of pushing the role of women in mining. When she started the company people called her “the mad woman”, and said that she would never see the light of day in mining.
“We are Africans first and Africans are brought up to believe that women cannot do certain things… And also we are not brought up as women to support each other.”
In 2006, Eyesizwe merged with Kumba Resources’ non-iron ore assets to form Exxaro, which would be run by Nkosi. Today, it is the second-largest coal producer in the country with an annual production of 40 million tons and is listed on the Johannesburg Stock Exchange (JSE) Limited.
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Overnight, disaster struck Mashile-Nkosi and her brother as they were removed from the company’s list of directors and eight names were put in their places.
Speaking to FORBES AFRICA, at last year&#8217;s Mining Indaba, Mashile-Nkosi said: “I listened to some of the comments. The more I told my story, the more certain people doubted whether these assets belonged to me.”
One of those names belonged to Sandile Majali, who was an $1-million (R11-million) ANC donor in 2003. After a court battle, Majali was arrested for fraud and offered to pay Mashile-Nkosi’s legal costs. The siblings were restored to their company. In late 2010, Majali was found dead in his hotel room. He was no stranger to bad press and was reportedly involved in the Iraqi Oil-for-Food scandal.
Mashile-Nkosi pushed on with the Kalagadi Manganese project, in the Northern Cape, as a protest project on behalf of women. This was at a time when manganese was the territory of two multinationals – Anglo American and Assmang. After a long wait, Kalagadi’s license was awarded in 2005. A $1.13-million (R12.5-million) loan from Investec paid for the prefeasibility study. The favorable results landed them a $5.42-million (R60-million) loan from South Africa’s state-owned Industrial Development Corporation (IDC), which finances developmental projects.
Kalahari resources has a 40% stake in Kalagadi – 62% of which belongs to Mashile-Nkosi – while the IDC holds 10% and global steelmaker ArcelorMittal holds the remaining 50%. The contenders for a partnership on the Kalagadi project were ArcelorMittal, as well as French and Chinese mining companies. ArcelorMittal won the bid because it is a consumer of manganese, while the others are producers who, at the worst of times, may choose to sell their product first.
But the relationship with ArcelorMittal soured and went to court. The steelmaker alleged a lack of corporate governance, which left Mashile-Nkosi and her team no option but to buy them out. They signed a $350.25-million (R3.9-billion) buyout deal in December 2012 and the relationship is the best it has ever been. It was a difficult time, having to raise billions for a smelter as well as the $350.25 million (R3.9 billion) for equity. Discussions for the equity are, as of going to print, being held with the Public Investment Corporation, one of the Africa’s largest investment managers.
“You need to take the initiative of making sure people believe in you, by doing it.”
The project involved sinking a shaft (±R1.5 billion), building an operational plant (±R2 billion), a sinter plant (±R3 billion) and a smelter (±R6 billion). A $650-million (R7.2-billion) framework agreement for the smelter has been signed. The team is working on the commercial terms, after approaching a number of funding institutions.
Mashile-Nkosi is the first black women to own a manganese mine and sinter plant. Her husband, Dan Nkosi, was her greatest supporter, but never got to see her dream fulfilled. The struggle veteran and former Robben Island inmate died from a throat operation that went wrong. She poured the pain of losing her partner into her work.
Black people have historically bought mines that are known to have plentiful resources and well-established infrastructure. In her case, and what sets Kalagadi apart, the land was bare. There was no electricity, water, rail or roads. And the diesel for the generators alone cost $25.30 million (R280 million).
The underground ore has 37% manganese content and three million tons will be mined. Once sintered, it will be transported to the Coega Industrial Development Zone, in the Eastern Cape, for smelting. Projected net sales revenues for the financial years ending 2015, 2016 and 2017 are $100 million (R1.1 billion), $433 million (R4.8 billion), and $632.63 million (R7 billion) respectively.
The mine launch was attended by government officials, including President Jacob Zuma, economic development minister Ebrahim Patel, and minister of mineral resources Susan Shabangu.
“We are proud that as we celebrate 20 years of democracy, we can count amongst this government’s achievements in the mining industry, the fact that we have more women in the sector. We hope that Ms Daphne Mashile-Nkosi’s example can serve as an inspiration to all women and remind them that it is indeed possible to achieve great things in a sector that has traditionally been male-dominated,” says Shabangu.
Thirty thousand jobs were created during the construction phase and the production phase will provide 3,000 full-time jobs. According to the South African Chamber of Mines, 10 people are supported for every job created in the mining sector. In the near future, Kalagadi wants half of its workforce to be women. All this at a time when mining is struggling in South Africa.
Mashile-Nkosi encourages people to nurture a culture of selflessness and upliftment, which she believes can also boost personal growth. The entrepreneur condemns, what she refers to as, the prevailing sense of entitlement.
“My grandmother [an orphan that became a domestic worker at 13] said to me one day: ‘I, or your mother, don’t owe you anything, we don’t have to work for you, we don’t have to feed you, we don’t have to clothe you. You are in this life on your own and you must get through this life.’”
The manganese tycoon believes that it is her calling to encourage fellow African women to become entrepreneurs through the words of her grandmother.

Struggle And Strife For The Woman  Who Gave Away  A $9.3-Million Deal

The house in Mbalenhle Avenue, Secunda, in Mpumalanga, is a monument to May Mahlangu’s maternal grandmother, Joanna. She brought up the football star and his younger brother, Bafana, after they were orphaned.
“It was a tough time, and it builds your character. There is no one to look up to—no mother or father to advise you. My grandmother was there to inspire us. She told us that nothing comes easy. You have to work very hard to be successful,” says Mahlangu.
Mahlangu built the house for his grandmother after glory at the Africa Cup of Nations in January.
In this tournament, Mahlangu grew into one of Africa’s most exciting attacking midfielders since Steven Pienaar. His equalizer against Morocco ensured his country safe passage to the quarter-finals.
“I dedicated that goal to her and I am happy she saw me scoring that goal. She raised me from an early age and I would not be here if it were not for her. She also allowed me to join Remember FC in Secunda, at age 12, and Stars of Africa Football Academy at 15. I owe her my life as a professional soccer player,” says Mahlangu.
Teko Modise was another pivotal figure in Mahlangu’s life; he inspired Mahlangu to pursue football professionally.
“I always watched him, while he played for Orlando Pirates, Sundowns and Bafana. He was my childhood hero,” says Mahlangu.
For the past two seasons, Mahlangu, a Bafana Bafana midfielder, has been linked with several top European clubs, but his Swedish side Helsingborg IF has managed to hold on to him. The 2011 Swedish Player of the Year has been a revelation for South Africa during the past six months.
Gavin Hunt, former coach of SuperSport United, considers him and Dean Furman to be the best midfield-combination for the national team.
Boebie Solomons—a former Bafana Bafana under 20 coach and current assistant coach at Bloemfontein Celtic—agrees.
“May and Dean have been the biggest difference between the current Bafana Bafana team and the national group under its predecessor Pitso Mosimane. Take those two players away, and we are back at square one.”
David Nyathi, current under 19 coach at Ajax Cape Town and former Bafana Bafana stalwart, adds  Reneilwe Letsholonyane to the mix, calling the three midfielders: “a pleasing triangle”.
Farouk Khan, director of the Stars of Africa Football Academy, says Furman plays the defensive role as midfielder, while Mahlangu is the offensive spark, with Letsholonyane excelling as distributor and organizer.
Khan saw Mahlangu evolve at the academy, when the young 15-year-old player joined. Mahlangu’s speed and endurance made him the best amongst the academy’s intake at the time.
“His bleep test [or 20 meter shuttle run test to estimate an athlete’s maximum oxygen intake] was a 16 or 17,” says Khan.
Solomons says Mahlangu’s awareness and vision separate him from the rest.
“He has the ability to determine, almost immediately, when he receives the ball, whether to counterattack and initiate a speedy build-up with turn over possession to release the strikers, or not. He can keep the ball glued to his feet while looking up, almost like a Zinedine Zidane. May is a three-in-one player: an initiator, a participator and a finisher,” he says.
Mahlangu must still improve his final pass, according to Hunt.
Lucas Radebe, former Bafana Bafana captain, says that Mahlangu is not a total player until he improves the defensive side of the game.
No player becomes a part of the elite without pain and some luck. Mahlangu has to survive setbacks and injuries for years if he is to become one of the greats.
“What impressed me about May, is his character. He is a born leader, with no fear of failure, with self-belief, confidence and a coachable spirit. He is the epitome of a complete modern-day footballer,” says Khan.
Mahlangu has already overcome tragedy and poverty—surely he can take anything life throws at him.

Tag: Mpumalanga

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