Full Story
Small miners 'work themselves to death' in Namib
By: Frederico LinksA s the sky lightens to the east, a chill dry wind whips over the barren hills from the west.
Three figures huddle around the hilltop campfire, shielded from the
cutting winds by chest-high stone walls.
A few dozen metres away stands the sturdy shack in which the men
sleep.
This is the camp of small gemstone miner Alfred Uirab, or 'Old
Namab' as he is better known between the Brandberg and the Namib
Desert, on a hill dubbed '#oaxa si stu //goaxa si /gai' in Damara,
translating to 'climbing up is bad, coming down is good'.
At around 06h00 the three men make their way to the hilltop
quarry where a rock-face has been cleared and where they hope to
strike pockets of amethyst crystals.
"I hope to get something out of there soon," says Uirab
(61).
At around 07h30, in the lee of a hilltop rock outcropping, the
generator sputters to life and the grumble of the Makita drill cuts
through the silence.
Uirab drills holes in the rock for about 10 minutes and then
picks up the eight-pound hammer to pound chisels into the
cracks.
The usual work routine is to drill for about ten minutes, to
save petrol, and then use the hammers to crack open the rocks.
While the old miner drills and hammers, his workers, Andreas
Nghiwedha (19) and Ivan Goseb (33), cart away boulders and clear
the quarry.
He has been mining the rock-face at a loss of N$17 000 over the
last four months, says Uirab, who says his monthly expenses on
salaries (excluding his own), food, water, wood and petrol come to
about N$5 000.
And he is running out - there's only five litres of petrol left
and the mealie meal ran out at breakfast.
The ground is littered with broken amethyst 'scepters' and
'roses', which could have fetched thousands of Namibia dollars from
collectors and dealers.
Buyers don't buy broken crystals and all they're good for now is
a 'tumble', a collection of different gemstones sold cheaply as a
packet.
"I don't know what I've been doing here for the last five
months," says Uirab.
In a few weeks he'll stop working the rock-face and move to
another of his claims further to the west.
Old Namab has four claims, which he mines one at a time.
One of the main problems is that miners don't respect one
another's claims, he says, pointing to four 'pockets' equally
spaced along the rock-face where other miners extracted crystals
while he had been away at the beginning of the year.
He says he heard that the extracted gemstones were sold for
close to N$150 000 to collectors and dealers at the coast.
"You work yourself to death only for another man to come and
steal your things," says Uirab.
At midday the work breaks off and Ivan Goseb is sent the four
kilometers across the barrenness to the settlement of Xobobos for
mealie meal.
Xobobos is a collection of ramshackle corrugated iron and sack
shacks on a windswept clearing overlooked by the black-bouldered
Xobobos mountain.
Roughly 55 small miners call the settlement home.
On this Saturday there are three women in the settlement.
Shortly after Goseb arrives, two white mini-buses pull up and
tourists pile out.
The miners scramble to their shacks to get out their stones and
come kneel in a row in the centre of the clearing.
Alfred Lukas (36) puts away his stones.
"This is a waste of time," he says, only having exchanged a
small crystal for a shirt and some water containers.
Lukas was trying to sell a pair of purplish crystals for N$5 000
and a triplet of dusky crystals for N$3 000.
The miners don't usually sell to tourists because they only pass
through once in a while.
Lukas has been mining at Xobobos since 1994 and says he has
never been paid the price he has asked for his crystals.
"It's not easy work, but what can we do," says Festus 'Kabila'
Nghilime (37), who has been mining here since 1996.
Food stocks in the settlement are running low, as is the water,
and everyone has flaked lips.
Earlier in the year Okorusu mine donated four water tanks, with
a combined capacity of just over 3 000 litres, to the settlement,
which previously had to haul water from Uis, more than 70
kilometres away.
The miners buy meagre supplies from one another.
Up on his hill, Old Namab, who has been mining at the edge of
the Namib Desert since 1976, kept working through the blistering
midday.
He says he would like to retire at the end of 2009, but doesn't
know yet what he'll do with his claims after that.
He still dreams of striking it lucky.
"With the right equipment I won't make less than N$50 000 here,"
he says.
"But this poer-poer ..."
As the early evening cold winds whip up violently again across
the barrenness, Alfred Uirab turns for home.
"This wild life must come to an end," he says.
"At this age you shouldn't be working this hard."
A few dozen metres away stands the sturdy shack in which the men
sleep.This is the camp of small gemstone miner Alfred Uirab, or
'Old Namab' as he is better known between the Brandberg and the
Namib Desert, on a hill dubbed '#oaxa si stu //goaxa si /gai' in
Damara, translating to 'climbing up is bad, coming down is good'.At
around 06h00 the three men make their way to the hilltop quarry
where a rock-face has been cleared and where they hope to strike
pockets of amethyst crystals."I hope to get something out of there
soon," says Uirab (61).At around 07h30, in the lee of a hilltop
rock outcropping, the generator sputters to life and the grumble of
the Makita drill cuts through the silence.Uirab drills holes in the
rock for about 10 minutes and then picks up the eight-pound hammer
to pound chisels into the cracks.The usual work routine is to drill
for about ten minutes, to save petrol, and then use the hammers to
crack open the rocks.While the old miner drills and hammers, his
workers, Andreas Nghiwedha (19) and Ivan Goseb (33), cart away
boulders and clear the quarry.He has been mining the rock-face at a
loss of N$17 000 over the last four months, says Uirab, who says
his monthly expenses on salaries (excluding his own), food, water,
wood and petrol come to about N$5 000.And he is running out -
there's only five litres of petrol left and the mealie meal ran out
at breakfast. The ground is littered with broken amethyst
'scepters' and 'roses', which could have fetched thousands of
Namibia dollars from collectors and dealers.Buyers don't buy broken
crystals and all they're good for now is a 'tumble', a collection
of different gemstones sold cheaply as a packet."I don't know what
I've been doing here for the last five months," says Uirab.In a few
weeks he'll stop working the rock-face and move to another of his
claims further to the west.Old Namab has four claims, which he
mines one at a time.One of the main problems is that miners don't
respect one another's claims, he says, pointing to four 'pockets'
equally spaced along the rock-face where other miners extracted
crystals while he had been away at the beginning of the year.He
says he heard that the extracted gemstones were sold for close to
N$150 000 to collectors and dealers at the coast."You work yourself
to death only for another man to come and steal your things," says
Uirab.At midday the work breaks off and Ivan Goseb is sent the four
kilometers across the barrenness to the settlement of Xobobos for
mealie meal.Xobobos is a collection of ramshackle corrugated iron
and sack shacks on a windswept clearing overlooked by the
black-bouldered Xobobos mountain.Roughly 55 small miners call the
settlement home.On this Saturday there are three women in the
settlement.Shortly after Goseb arrives, two white mini-buses pull
up and tourists pile out.The miners scramble to their shacks to get
out their stones and come kneel in a row in the centre of the
clearing.Alfred Lukas (36) puts away his stones."This is a waste of
time," he says, only having exchanged a small crystal for a shirt
and some water containers.Lukas was trying to sell a pair of
purplish crystals for N$5 000 and a triplet of dusky crystals for
N$3 000.The miners don't usually sell to tourists because they only
pass through once in a while.Lukas has been mining at Xobobos since
1994 and says he has never been paid the price he has asked for his
crystals. "It's not easy work, but what can we do," says Festus
'Kabila' Nghilime (37), who has been mining here since 1996. Food
stocks in the settlement are running low, as is the water, and
everyone has flaked lips.Earlier in the year Okorusu mine donated
four water tanks, with a combined capacity of just over 3 000
litres, to the settlement, which previously had to haul water from
Uis, more than 70 kilometres away.The miners buy meagre supplies
from one another.Up on his hill, Old Namab, who has been mining at
the edge of the Namib Desert since 1976, kept working through the
blistering midday.He says he would like to retire at the end of
2009, but doesn't know yet what he'll do with his claims after
that.He still dreams of striking it lucky."With the right equipment
I won't make less than N$50 000 here," he says."But this poer-poer
..."As the early evening cold winds whip up violently again across
the barrenness, Alfred Uirab turns for home."This wild life must
come to an end," he says."At this age you shouldn't be working this
hard."
