The Bafokeng are sitting pretty, fuelled by the millions made off the mineral rights to platinum on their land Khadija Magardie The fame of Phokeng “The Place of the Dew”, a township 5km outside Rustenburg, in the Northern Province, stretches way beyond its borders. It is said that Phokeng’s streets, which eventually become the road to Sun City, “smell of money”. Phokeng is one of the North West province townships inhabited by the Bafokeng community. Known as “the richest tribe in Africa”, the Bafokeng have little interest in this week’s local government elections or in the new local government system that will accompany it. They say they have no need for what they disdainfully call the government’s “RDP standards”. Just off the main street, in the township’s multimillion-rand shopping complex, school-uniformed youngsters sip milkshakes at the Milky Lane caf while adults shop in the numerous chain stores. Rising out of the dust near the highway to Rustenburg is the pride of Phokeng a granite and steel sports “palace” which includes an athletics track, tennis and basketball courts, an Olympic-size pool and a 45?000-capacity soccer stadium. In the distance, beyond the sports complex is the township’s golden goose, a series of soot-coloured hills. Beneath their soil lie the world’s second-largest platinum reserves. Following legal battles with several mining giants, spanning decades, the Bafokeng now receive a sizeable portion of Impala Platinum’s profits. Last year Implats agreed to cede 22% of its annual mining royalties to the Bafokeng, as well as one million shares in the company which last year brought in more than R200-million. And with the price trends and prospects for platinum continuing to spiral, the Bafokeng are sitting pretty. The Royal Bafokeng say their own efforts long predate local government initiatives to develop their villages. The late Kgosi of the Bafokeng, Lebone Molotlegi II, who died earlier this year, championed the community’s self-sufficiency a tradition continued by the tribal authority. Despite no government subsidy, nearly every Phokeng home has electricity and sanitation. None of the homes is mortgaged. Millions have also been spent on the provision of health facilities, schools and the construction of roads. In one year, 1997, more than R24-million was spent on tarring or paving roads.
Investment and job-creation projects, such as Bafokeng Civil Works and Phokeng Bakery, which all employ locals, provide opportunities for businesses to tender for the provision of services ranging from civil construction to baking bread. According to John Tshite, chair of the regional development council (RDC), which is responsible for developing the area with government funds, the Bafokeng are doing the government a favour. He acknowledges there was “competition” between the Bafokeng administration and the RDC, but says that if one compares the Bafokeng villages to other rural areas, the developments are impressive, despite receiving little, if any, government money. “If they can help themselves, it frees up government funds to be used elsewhere, especially in less developed areas,” he says. Not everyone has felt the effects of the platinum-generated wealth. Ephraim Makgata, a former welder on one of the mines, now spends most of his days in a one-roomed shack erected near a mine dump. Like the collection of homes situated across a river, his shack has neither electricity nor running water. The old man makes a meagre living from his vegetable patch and his pigs he has a sty full of them. He explains that the poor, like him, are left out in the cold. Makgata has five sons, and he says none of them have managed to find work in Phokeng. “Hulle hou die geld vir hulle eie mense [They keep the money for their own people],” he says sadly. Similar feelings were expressed by Isaac Lekoto (not his real name), a government employee living in Phokeng, who says the administration chooses to develop certain areas only. Lekoto says residents often have to pay for various services such as installation of electricity. “The administration puts on this image that they are helping us for free, when in fact they make us pay.” Rumours have also surfaced that the Bafokeng refuse to assist non-Bafokeng areas. Last month Land and Rural Digest magazine quoted both Tshite and a Bafokeng representative confirming the Bafokeng “won’t share” with other tribes in the region. Tshite was quoted as saying the Bafokeng saw themselves as a separate local government. Tshite has denied the statements attributed to him, citing several instances in which the Bafokeng developed pockets of state-owned land situated in their territories. Members of the Royal Bafokeng Administration also denied they refused to assist other communities. Well-heeled tribal council representative Herbert Mngadi, with the Bafokeng’s legal adviser, Steve Phiri, say the administration does not see itself as replacing government structures, but say it is “natural” that the Bafokeng would want “their own” to do things for them. Describing their relationship with the government as “cooperative governance”, they say it is natural they would try to upgrade their own communities first.