In the depths of South Africa, Stilfontein’s abandoned mines, a grim reality unfolds for a group of men known as zama-zamas—illegal miners who risk their lives in pursuit of gold. 

They are battling not just the oppressive darkness below the abandoned mine in the North West province, but also the dangers of hunger, violence, and the looming presence of law enforcement above. 

Their stories reveal harrowing experiences and the struggles of those who feel there are no other options to escape poverty.

The Descent into Darkness

Patrick Ntsokolo, a 40-year-old father of six, shared his harrowing experience from his time underground. “My journey to the surface was not easy,” he recalls. 

After nearly five months below the ground, he emerged on Christmas Day, 2024, having desperately crawled 1.3 kilometers through the mine shafts. “We met nine dead bodies on the way up. I was injured,” Ntsokilo says, examining the scars on his arms from the brutal conditions.
 
Ntsokolo was initially drawn to the underground world in search of work that would provide for his struggling family. “Before everything, it was OK. There was food, medication,” he explains, reminiscing about the days when things felt almost normal. “Then the police came.” 

He describes how the atmosphere shifted when law enforcement began throwing stones into the shafts, creating a sense of danger that disrupted their delicate ecosystem. “What I was asking myself: are these people helping us or are they here to kill us?,” recalls Ntsokolo.

Life Underground: Community and Survival

The existence underground is one of fraternal bonds forged by shared suffering. “Even if you can’t talk the language, you can hear it,” Ntsokolo says, highlighting the camaraderie among men from different backgrounds—Mozambicans, Zimbabweans, and locals alike—united in their plight. 

Clement Motsamai, another former miner who shared the depths with Ntsokolo, emphasized the importance of collective strength during their time underground. “There was order. If you don’t respect, you are going to be punished.”
 
Food, however, was a vital concern. Ntsokolo speaks of survival tactics, sharing how they repurposed expired snacks lowered from the surface to stave off hunger. “We survived on prayer and on what little food we could scavenge,” he states. “We warmed wet chips over a fire to eat them. It was very difficult.” 
 
An illegal miner who did not want his name to be published for fear of being attacked by fellow illegal miners fondly remembers the time when supplies were plentiful. “Everything was okay because food was coming in,” he reflects, recounting his own experience of working underground for three months. “But when food finished and everything collapsed, we started trying to look for a way to other shafts. People started eating cockroaches.”

The Unthinkable: Cannibalism and Desperation

The descent into desperation led to dire acts that no human should ever consider. Ntsokolo recounted horrific instances where the weak and starving turned on each other. “When we met with the dead bodies, some were eating human flesh; they said it was like pork, I saw people selling pieces of human meat,” Ntsokolo recalls.

When asked how much it was, he stated that each piece cost a gram of gold as everything underground is sold in the precious metal.

Both men fear that the psychological scars of their experiences would haunt them long after rising to the surface.

Says Ntsokolo: “I was scared. I didn’t want to stay there and watch myself be eaten. I’ve seen things that will stay with me forever.” 

Motsamai, a somber expression crossing his face, echoed similar sentiments. “I prayed, asking the spirits of the dead to guide me out of this hell.”

As if mirroring their darkest fears, Ayanda Ndabini, another illegal miner, speaks of the day he witnessed someone die of hunger. His voice filled with anguish, he noted, “Some people started gathering cockroaches while we were starving, but we hid it from others.”

An Underground Economy

Amidst the chaos, there existed a shadow economy fuelled by a small shop underground, where food was traded, not with rands and cents, but with stolen gold. “Everything is sold through gold,” Ntsokolo reveals. “Food was sent down, and you’d find people buying mealie meal, tinned goods—everything was there until the police came.”
 
Desperation has born numerous adversities.

With police operations seeking to eliminate illegal mining, even the lifeline of basic supplies began to dwindle.

“By October, there was nothing at the shop. People were dying,” recalls Ndabini. “They did not listen when we said we needed food because they thought we were just playing games.”

The Disruption from Above

The immediate cause of chaos soon became the police operations introduced to control illegal mining, the men said. Ntsokolo and Motsamai claim there was the stark increase in fatalities once law enforcement intervened. 

“Before the police operation started, maybe there were a few deaths,” Ntsokolo claims. “But after they came, it escalated to about eighty bodies.”
 
Ndabini added that workers underground were often stuck between a rock and a hard place, with the police throwing stones and disrupting their intricate food supply lines. “At some point, we were just hoping the police would let us out, but we were too weak to hold on to the rope,” he laments. 

The punishing conditions of hunger, combined with the threats posed by police, exemplified the harsh realities of their lives underground, Nambini added.

The Haunting Aftermath

Today, these men grapple with the stark contrast of life above ground compared to their tragedy-filled existence underground. They have not only survived the physical toll, but are faced with the additional burden of societal stigma attached to their involvement as illegal miners. 

“I’m very hurt,” Ntsokolo says. “The government treats us as criminals, but we are just trying to survive.”
 
Motsamai reiterated that he was as pained by the experience. “I still pray for those left behind, so that God may help them.”
 
In communities like Khuma, North West province, where these miners hail from, hope is as fleeting as the food that once sufficed them below ground. Their stories highlight a bitter cycle; a push for survival that leads to a life riddled with trauma, fear, and desperation, where the line between humanity and survival has been all but lost.
 
As police operations continue to clamp down on illegal mining, thousands of lives remain affected by systemic poverty and a lack of opportunity. For these illegal miners and their dependents, until significant change occurs and they are offered realistic alternatives, the cycle of zama-zama will continue, with life above ground—much like life below—both a struggle for survival.