The stark choices faced by miners like Ndumiso reveal the harsh realities of survival in a struggling economy plagued by crime and unemployment.
**Underground Economies: The Dark World of South Africa's Illegal Gold Miners**

**Underground Economies: The Dark World of South Africa's Illegal Gold Miners**
South Africa's gold mines harbor a perilous underground community where illegal mining thrives amid gang control.
Ndumiso is one of approximately 600 men who live and work in a makeshift underground settlement located in a decommissioned gold mine in South Africa. After losing his job with a large mining company, he joined a gang and became known as a "zama zama," an illegal miner. Every few months, he emerges to sell gold on the black market, earning significantly more than he did in his previous job, despite the heightened risks associated with his current profession.
"The underground life is brutal. Many never escape alive," Ndumiso expressed, requesting anonymity due to fear of retaliation. He describes one level of the shaft as a "graveyard," littered with bodies of those who succumbed to the mine's dangers. However, for those fortunate enough to persist, like Ndumiso, the financial rewards can be substantial. Though he sleeps on sandbags after grueling days underground, he has been able to buy a home for his family in Johannesburg, sending his children to private schools, with one even attending university.
His current operations are based at a mine near Stilfontein, about 90 miles from Johannesburg, which has gained attention after government officials pledged to eliminate illegal mining. Khumbudzo Ntshavheni, a government minister, emphasized that criminals must be targeted, not sheltered. A legal campaign is underway to ensure that food and water reach those trapped underground. Amid this crackdown, Ndumiso, who surfaced last month, is apprehensive about returning.
With an illegal mining workforce of tens of thousands in South Africa, Ndumiso, who has been in this profession for approximately eight years, stands as one of many who have turned to zama zama work following widespread layoffs. The Benchmark Foundation estimates there are around 6,000 abandoned mines nationwide, which, while unprofitable for large corporations, offer opportunities for smaller-scale operations.
Previously earning a meager $220 monthly as a drill operator, Ndumiso turned to illegal mining after two decades of unemployment. He revealed that zama zamas often spend extended periods underground, relying on external supplies for sustenance, and many carry weapons for protection against rival gangs. Ndumiso admitted to owning a pistol and paying a monthly protection fee for security against threats, particularly from violent Lesotho rival gangs.
Utilizing old equipment, including pickaxes and dynamite, Ndumiso extracts gold that he shares with the gang leader, receiving biweekly payments and selling portions on the black market for additional income. His earnings, totaling between $15,500 and $22,000 annually, dwarf his former salary, although gang leaders reap even greater rewards. He noted a concerning aspect: illegal mining remains elusive for law enforcement to control effectively due to the sophisticated networks involved, allowing crime to flourish while the government focuses solely on the miners.
The conditions in these mines are dire, with many men emerging frail and sickly after long work periods. Ndumiso, who typically spends up to three months underground, recounted his experience with disorientation upon returning to the surface, feeling momentarily blinded by the light. For every return, he collects supplies like canned food to avoid exorbitant costs at the mine's underground markets, which also sell essential items, indicating a community has formed amid the chaos.
While some miners face severe consequences from rival gangs, Ndumiso continues to navigate the underbelly of illegal mining, weighing his perilous lifestyle against the ordinary poverty of daily life in a nation where unemployment rates exceed 30%. The underground world reflects not only a struggle for survival but also raises questions about the broader implications of a society seeking prosperity through illicit means.
"The underground life is brutal. Many never escape alive," Ndumiso expressed, requesting anonymity due to fear of retaliation. He describes one level of the shaft as a "graveyard," littered with bodies of those who succumbed to the mine's dangers. However, for those fortunate enough to persist, like Ndumiso, the financial rewards can be substantial. Though he sleeps on sandbags after grueling days underground, he has been able to buy a home for his family in Johannesburg, sending his children to private schools, with one even attending university.
His current operations are based at a mine near Stilfontein, about 90 miles from Johannesburg, which has gained attention after government officials pledged to eliminate illegal mining. Khumbudzo Ntshavheni, a government minister, emphasized that criminals must be targeted, not sheltered. A legal campaign is underway to ensure that food and water reach those trapped underground. Amid this crackdown, Ndumiso, who surfaced last month, is apprehensive about returning.
With an illegal mining workforce of tens of thousands in South Africa, Ndumiso, who has been in this profession for approximately eight years, stands as one of many who have turned to zama zama work following widespread layoffs. The Benchmark Foundation estimates there are around 6,000 abandoned mines nationwide, which, while unprofitable for large corporations, offer opportunities for smaller-scale operations.
Previously earning a meager $220 monthly as a drill operator, Ndumiso turned to illegal mining after two decades of unemployment. He revealed that zama zamas often spend extended periods underground, relying on external supplies for sustenance, and many carry weapons for protection against rival gangs. Ndumiso admitted to owning a pistol and paying a monthly protection fee for security against threats, particularly from violent Lesotho rival gangs.
Utilizing old equipment, including pickaxes and dynamite, Ndumiso extracts gold that he shares with the gang leader, receiving biweekly payments and selling portions on the black market for additional income. His earnings, totaling between $15,500 and $22,000 annually, dwarf his former salary, although gang leaders reap even greater rewards. He noted a concerning aspect: illegal mining remains elusive for law enforcement to control effectively due to the sophisticated networks involved, allowing crime to flourish while the government focuses solely on the miners.
The conditions in these mines are dire, with many men emerging frail and sickly after long work periods. Ndumiso, who typically spends up to three months underground, recounted his experience with disorientation upon returning to the surface, feeling momentarily blinded by the light. For every return, he collects supplies like canned food to avoid exorbitant costs at the mine's underground markets, which also sell essential items, indicating a community has formed amid the chaos.
While some miners face severe consequences from rival gangs, Ndumiso continues to navigate the underbelly of illegal mining, weighing his perilous lifestyle against the ordinary poverty of daily life in a nation where unemployment rates exceed 30%. The underground world reflects not only a struggle for survival but also raises questions about the broader implications of a society seeking prosperity through illicit means.