By Alec Hogg
Sometimes one should shake off daily responsibilities to invest in a learning opportunity. My mistake these past two days was not to do so at Joburg’s Mining Indaba. Now in its second year it is growing in stature, not least because of the chairmanship of the fiercely independent mining entrepreneur Bernard Swanepoel. The Joburg Indaba is a forum where the industry’s heavy hitters gather to talk frankly and openly. In contrast to February’s Capetonian version which has become an expensive excuse for foreigners to escape the worst of their winter.
Time pressures of running a start-up messed up priorities. So my involvement at the Joburg Indaba was restricted to just three hours yesterday morning. During that brief window I was among hundreds who received a cultural lesson from NUM’s head Frans Baleni, an investment lesson from the world’s top mining analyst Jim Rutherford, and a lesson in practical business from the inimitable Peter Major of Cadiz.
But what will stay longest was a picture Baleni showed of 980 worker graves behind the hostel at Winkelhaak Mine. These employees died with their boots on, most literally. But even in death, they do not enjoy any dignity. Their graves are numbered, not named. Even today.
Baleni challenged the mining company’s managers to identify the occupants so families can pay appropriate respect to fathers, brothers, sons. Sometimes we South Africans dwell too much on our history. But in shameful examples such as the treatment of those who paid the ultimate sacrifice at Winkelhaak Mine, not enough.
