Marikana - On this day four years ago I arrived at the Nkaneng informal settlement in Wonderkop near Marikana in South Africa's North West province. I had been covering the Lonmin mineworkers strike, which had started six days earlier. Thousands of mineworkers downed tools on 10 August after their employer said it could not afford the demand for a minimum wage of R12 500 a month.
The mineworkers had been camping on the koppie, a rocky outcrop, since they embarked on their strike. They were spearheaded by an elected “workers committee” instead of the National Union of Mineworkers (NUM), which they had earlier rejected. The unprotected strike was by all accounts violent.
At least 10 people, including two Lonmin security guards and two policemen, had been killed in the days leading up to August 16. The security guards and policemen were hacked to death, allegedly by the striking mineworkers.
On that fateful day - 16 August 2012, a Thursday - things began sluggishly, with striking mineworkers singing on top of the koppie. A short distance from the koppie, armed police monitored the mineworkers. In the afternoon, I saw policemen roll barbed wire towards Nkaneng. As the police set up their barbed wire barrier, workers who were seated, stood up and started singing. The workers began moving slowly towards Nkaneng - that was when the police moved in.
By then the situation was tense. It was clear there would be a confrontation. South African Police Service (SAPS) media officer Captain Dennis Adriao ordered all the reporters, who had been behind the police cordon, to move out of the way because police vehicles were moving towards the mineworkers.
Television cameramen ran behind the police vehicles. Armed with a pen and a notebook, I followed close behind the cameramen. Suddenly, members of the Public Order police fired rubber bullets and teargas at the mineworkers, who were singing and crawling away from the koppie. Somehow I found myself behind the police Tactical Response Team (TRT), who were firing at the mineworkers.
When they retreated, I counted at least 18 people who were lying on the ground. They had been hit by bullets. Some were motionless, others appeared to be be barely alive. Blood oozed freely from their wounds as they lay helpless on the ground. At that time it was difficult to ascertain how many people had died or had been injured in the shooting. Shocked and horrified by the brutality of it all, I looked around for help. Ambulances and mortuary vans arrived.
The next day, national police commissioner Riah Phiyega announced that 34 people had been killed and more than 70 others were injured in the shooting. As many as 200 people had been arrested.
African News Agency