The Zana I love, the BCL I knew
Onalenna Kelebeile | Friday January 20, 2017 14:49
The inevitably eminent last rites are being performed by the liquidator Nigel Dickson, who has now declared our treasure trove in the final phase of death, just before rigor mortis. Warning bells about the approaching end of life of the resource, chimed distantly, hence, many treated them as a hoax, or decided to settle for Barry Manilow's 'Living on Borrowed Times'. Back in the years between 2005 and 2010, the town of Selebi-Phikwe, (affectionately called Zana or Bizola by some of us, its adherents, was very vibrant when the BCL Mine was economically stable. It was not only full of life with respect to the BCL Mine’s ability to sustain the local economy, Phikwe also had very radical and robust leadership led by Montwedi Mphathi as the BCL general manager and the Botswana Mine Workers Union which was headed by the likes of the late Golekanye Mogende, among others. The common names at the mine then besides Mphathi were likes of Gerry Ndlovu, Kavis Kario, Phumulani Vambu, Mack Zulu, Tshephang Mazwigwila, Gabriel Mompe and Mable Bolele among others.
This fostered lively dialogues and debate at which no decision ever went unscrutinised. It was during this period that the union’s national executive committee sent some branch committee members to prison, through the courts of law, for being in contempt of court when they declined to handover all union documents and funds to the national office. The branch, along with others, failed to deposit all the money they held in their own accounts and even failed to produce proof of expenditure. Mphathi would later re-employ those unionists from BCL upon completion of their prison terms. It was during this period that the likes of Mogende and the current Union president, Jack Tlhagale, bravely put their heads on the block and advocated for workers’ rights. The period was characterised by numerous legal battles between the Union and the Mine leadership, with both parties unyielding in their positions. During one particular skirmish, wage negotiations were suspended as a battle-within-a-battle ensued over how the Union had accessed confidential information it presented in the talks. BCL won this particular legal battle as the courts ruled that the information presented by the Union was not in the public domain. For the Union, Mphathi’s hand was a hard nut to crack. He took bold decisions and always defended them. He was viewed as unpredictable and very strict, but also demonstrated high levels of professionalism and was able to draw a firm line between personal and official business. Mphathi gained a reputation for his aversion to mediocrity as anecdotes abound about his axing workers in an instant, just like he was swatting a particularly annoying fly on his shirtsleeve. Mphathi was the kind of a manager who would tour the entire Mine intent to catch unawares those sleeping on the job. This improved levels of productivity as every employee was compelled to deliver their utmost best. The general manager created a lot of enemies because of his leadership style, but it paid off in making the company a sustainable mining operation, an achievement that was only appreciated by many when the mine’s performance dwindled after his departure. During his reign, Mphathi gained nationwide and regional infamy when he fired close to 200 machine men who downed tools in an illegal strike. He also boldly defended the employment of expatriates and maintained that BCL was ahead of its peers in localisation and actually had a low ratio of expatriates. Selebi-Phikwe in general was the epitome of vibrancy and during those hey-days, there was a lot of talk about Selebi-Phikwe becoming Botswana’s third city. The town had all the qualities that could qualify it for that status. BCL Mine’s replicas were a common sight as everyone had a T-shirt, cap or overall jacket bearing the logo.
BCL merchandise was given free at most of the Mine’s occasions. It was never sold. For workers, the 13th cheque was guaranteed and the long-service and retirement award ceremonies were held annually without fail.
In those years, the thick billows of smoke from BCL’s iconic smelter shared the table with our breakfast, lunch and supper, competing for our nostrils with the food.
The fumes enveloped homes, the town and its surroundings. While it raised health hazards, it also provided comfort that the Mine was operating healthily. The Mine then was so financially stable that it managed to tar a stretch of road from the railway line to its entrance. BCL also began providing its employees with ARV therapy, a milestone that came after three years of negotiations with the then Ministry of Health. It also contributed significantly to the construction and opening of the IDCC unit at Mmadinare and was also able to set aside P200 million for its own environmental rehabilitation after end of life. The Mine was also able to pay back the P414 million it had borrowed between 2001 and 2002. Ndoro-ndoros, or the Mine buses, were a common sight around town as they ferried workers to and from work. Their disappearance was thus among the first signs that the Mine’s finances had taken a nosedive. Now, the Selebi-Phikwe we knew then is on a knife-edge as the BCL’s closure has catastrophically thrown more than 5,000 workers in to the streets. The closure has triggered massive exodus of workers, their families and dependants from the town to their respective places of origin.
Adds those numbers (over 5,000) to those who were laid off by companies subcontracted to the BCL at the time of closure. Remaining families have been holding out hope that the mine will reopen in some shape or form, but this week, the provisional liquidator ruled out resurrection. Phikwe’s present troubles had long been anticipated as evidenced by the government’s decision, in March 2006, to engage CSA Group of consultants to conduct a study on the potential for economic diversification of the town. The study, funded by the European Union, was aimed at finding innovative and sustainable ways of diversifying the town’s economy away from mining, produce an inventory of the town’s resource base and also identify particular areas of comparative advantage around town. It was through their recommendation that SPEDU was born. SPEDU spawned a vision that by 2015 Selebi-Phikwe would have become an economically diversified and growing town, a recognised regional commercial and administrative centre and a centre for excellence for education and learning as well as a focus for tourism.Those hopes have suddenly become a painful mirage that the has sadly being awakened to. The hype, the vibrancy, the lifestyle are all gone leaving a town struggling to breathe, just as we used to struggle to breathe from the chomela. Now for the very first time in its history, hundreds of sorry houses, including those that belonged to the mine, stand vacant as if that is where apocalypse started.