MARİKANA, North West — A decade and a half after police gunfire killed 34 striking mineworkers, the demand for justice remains unanswered. At the 14th anniversary commemoration of the Marikana massacre, Association of Mineworkers and Construction Union (AMCU) President Joseph Mathunjwa delivered a scathing assessment of a nation that, in his words, has abandoned its working people while shielding the powerful from consequences.
Speaking before a crowd of union members and supporters gathered in the North West province, Mathunjwa made it unequivocally clear: not one individual has faced accountability for the bloodshed that shocked the world. His remarks carried the weight of 14 years of unresolved grief and systemic neglect.
A Ceremony Beset by Setbacks
The memorial itself struggled against the odds. Organizers faced hours of delays before the program could begin, and the erected stage was ultimately deemed unsafe for use. As a result, Mathunjwa addressed the assembly from the ground near the infamous hill where the original tragedy unfolded, lending the gathering an even more raw and intimate atmosphere.
‘Rich in Resources, Poor in Leadership’
In his address, the AMCU President did not soften his critique of the post-1994 political order. He branded South Africa’s democratic system as fundamentally “fake,” arguing that the Freedom Charter’s pledge that the people would share the country’s wealth has been hollowed out entirely. Workers who organize stayaways and endure disruptions, he said, receive a paltry R5 in return — a token from a system he described as being steered by “fake revolutionaries.”
“This country is rich in resources but poor in leadership,” Mathunjwa told the crowd. He accused politicians of planning exclusively for great-grandchildren who have not yet been born, locking in generational wealth for themselves while sacrificing the present and future of living workers and their families.
Two Decades Underground, Still Living in Shacks
The human cost of this neglect was voiced powerfully by a veteran mineworker in attendance. The man, who has laboured underground for 20 years, described a life of unrelenting hardship.
“We are living in harsh conditions. We are working, but where we live is not right. You see there are shacks everywhere,” he said, his voice carrying the exhaustion of two decades spent digging wealth from the earth while returning each evening to informal housing.
The miner also raised pointed questions about union autonomy, warning that a labour organization loses all negotiating leverage when it is financially sustained by the very mining houses it is meant to challenge. He urged that regional union leaders should draw their salaries from the union’s president rather than from mining companies, a structural shift he believes would restore genuine worker representation.
Mining Licenses Renewed Despite Empty Promises
Mathunjwa directed particular fury at the government’s failure to enforce social and labour obligations tied to mining rights. He outlined a familiar pattern: companies apply for mining licenses, commit in writing to constructing schools, roads, and houses for surrounding communities, and then deliver nothing.
“And that part is squarely on the government to force them to comply on those commitments,” Mathunjwa stressed. He questioned how mining licenses could be renewed for operators that have not built a single home, calling the oversight a betrayal of the very citizens who voted the current leadership into office.
Despite these institutional failures, AMCU insisted it continues to push aggressively for improved living conditions in mining communities, even as it is repeatedly let down by the state.
A Wound That Will Not Close
Closing his remarks on the anniversary, Mathunjwa returned to the central injustice that brought everyone to Marikana that day. Fourteen years after 34 men were shot dead while on strike, the absence of any criminal or political accountability remains, in his view, an open wound on South Africa’s democracy — one that no amount of commemorative speeches can heal.
