OPINION: The urban legend that Diamonds are lying on Kimberley’s sidewalks like gravel, has just over the last few years, resulted in a steady influx of informal miners, writes Lance Fredericks
THE GOOD old days were pretty intense!
No seriously! People had very little chill back then. By ‘very little chill’ I mean that generally punches were not pulled in society. It was pretty rough. In fact, one can question why the old days are so often referred to as ‘good’?
Back then we were an insensitive lot.
The insensitivity was even reflected in the nicknames by which the neighbourhood youngsters were called … from ‘Brackets’ the boy with the big ears, through ‘Hennie Haakneus’ and down the line to ‘Snottie’ – need I explain why these boys were called by these names?
Actually, it happened one day that the logic and genius behind Snottie’s nickname became obvious. It just so happened that the lad had sticky fingers and a bicycle standing parked in front of a house, just inside the gate, was just too much of a temptation for young ‘Snots’.
No one knows for sure why, whether he needed to supplement his pocket money or whether he was starting a new enterprise, but the dear lad duly opened the gate, snuck into the yard, sidled over to where the bike was leaning against the house and started pushing his newly-acquired conveyance into the street. But though he had looked to see if the coast was clear, poor ol’ Snotto hadn’t noticed the bicycle’s owner sitting under a tree just a few metres away.
Long story short, the term ‘snotklap’ acquired a new poster boy that day.
Come, come everyone … stop that! Stop tut-tutting at poor Snottie. The poor lad simply saw an opportunity and decided to take it. And by the way, pocket money was rare to non-existent in those days.
Another thing, he could have been just 12 or 13 years old at the time and his ability to restrain himself must have been as weak as his ability to sniff.
I mean, let’s face it, we could say that – being born in Kimberley – he was a mere victim of his environment.
That was said tongue-in-cheek, but we can only imagine how rough and raucous Kimberley was during the time that the diamonds were being hauled out of the pit that was once the Colesberg Koppie.
I wonder how many people had their belongings stolen, how many were robbed and how many cheated out of what was theirs. It was probably a time of the survival of the fittest and maybe Snottie, around a century down the line, caught a case of ‘delwers-gees’.
I seriously doubt that what was happening in the mining camp called Kimberley at that time was a well-organised mining operation. I am tempted to assume that greed and Diamond-delirium must have caused a lot of friction.
It’s hard to imagine how a seemingly stable, progressive city sprung up from all that chaos. It’s actually remarkable to think that those rough, hard-working prospectors and labourers (we dare not forget all those labourers) were, shovel by shovel contributing to the city many residents today know and love.
And famous? Yes, Kimberley is famous. Go anywhere in South Africa and a few places abroad and let them find out you’re from Kimberley. There is one of two responses. Either they will say, “Ah, you’re from the ‘Groot Gat’.” Or someone will jokingly ask you, “Don’t you have a diamond for me?”
Alarmingly though, the urban legend that Diamonds are lying on Kimberley’s sidewalks like gravel, has just over the last few years, resulted in a steady influx of informal miners. I mentioned this in a column not too long ago.
However, the pockmarked fields and open spaces created by the ‘zama zamas’ is not the only concern. More worrying is the fact that many of these informal miners have not struck it rich in the famed city of diamonds as they once hoped. But now they live here and pass much of their time as vagrants.
It must be terribly frustrating to have left your home hundreds of kilometres away with hopes of fortune burning in your belly, only to end up with a belly burning from hunger.
Yet, there are rumours circulating amongst some Kimberley residents that the ‘delwers-gees’ that afflicted poor old Snottie over 30 years ago is starting to rear its ugly head again.
The suburb of Cassandra is regularly plagued by copper cable theft. All measures to stop the cable thieves have proved fruitless. When cable thieves are caught in the act they simply run off into the informal settlement off Samaria Road and ‘poof’ they vanish.
The beleaguered Sol Plaatje Municipality are at their wits’ end. Replacing stolen cable and the manpower required to do it must be exhausting their pockets, spirits and enthusiasm.
Even going through the effort and expense of placing the cables overhead on high wooden poles, instead of burying it to prevent it being dug up every so often, turned out to be a temporary solution. On Sunday, October 16 the cable thieves actually sawed down one set of poles and stole the cables.
What concerns me is that it’s obvious that this is a lucrative career choice. These people wouldn’t be stripping this city of copper cable if they weren’t being paid handsomely for it. And bear in mind, I am only speaking of one suburb in one city in South Africa. I shudder to think how widespread this problem is and if we will ever see an end to it.
It may be terribly unfair to blame the informal miners for the rampant cable theft, but it is interesting to observe that the problem started snowballing as the zama zama camp became more and more established.
It’s almost as if Kimberley has come full circle. It was miners that contributed to the establishment of this city and now it’s a different set of miners who could be the end of it.
The big concern here is that if this scourge of casual cable theft is not stopped now, it will not taper off and sort itself out. On the contrary, it will balloon and spread its greedy tentacles wider and deeper into our cherished cities and our beloved homeland. If crime is not discouraged, criminals are encouraged.
Oh, on that, here’s the epilogue to the story I started earlier …
After being subjected to a few generous ‘snotklappe’, it is rumoured that Snottie turned from his dishonest ways and got on with his life.
Yeah, the good old days were pretty intense, but so were the solutions to problems.
