The stone, mud and thatch huts of Letseng-La-Terae, atop Lesotho’s Maluti mountains, seem a glaring anachronism beside the high-tech Letseng Diamond Mine across the road. And the temperature in what Letseng villagers insist is spring — a bitter 8°C — underscores just how little time and season count in this isolated spot.
Locals show a deep distrust for outsiders, and at an altitude of 3 200m, the mine may be the world’s most rarified diamond operation. But it is very much part of the wider world of Southern African business — and politics.
Letseng is the jewel in the crown of murdered Brett Kebble’s resources company, JCI, and its empowerment outfit, Sello Rasethaba’s Matodzi. Between them, they hold 76% of the mine, with the Lesotho government having the balance of shares.
With a claimed value of R1-billion, it may hold the key to the future of a post-Kebble JCI and the technically insolvent Matodzi. Kebble himself wanted to sell JCI’s stake to develop the Western Areas mine — a strategy now under review.
Letseng general manager John Houghton said this week that the mine produced 51 246 carats a year, with a value of R131,4-million, from 2,36-million tons of ore treated.
But there is deep market scepticism about the claimed value of the mine, and the sudden discovery of several large stones soon after Kebble bought it in 2003. The mine was closed by De Beers in 1982 after a slump in the diamond market and management’s inability to negotiate more favourable terms for royalties with the Lesotho government.
One hypothesis is that Kebble was murdered because he wanted to expose the use of the mine to launder high-value stones from elsewhere. Two years ago, diamonds worth R33,9-million turned up over a two-week period. In February this year, four stones, each the size of a marble, were unearthed and sold for $8-million in Antwerp.
Reported Miningmx.com: ”Conspiracy theories are ten-a-penny, both in Johannesburg and overseas — where the death of [Kebble] has piqued interest. One of the more compelling is that Kebble threatened to expose Angolan diamond traders who were making use of JCI’s Letseng diamond mine … to wash smuggled gems. If true, that’s a controversial contention but unsubstantiated.”
Letseng chief executive Chris Whitelock has denied the allegations.
One thing is certain — the villagers of Letseng know nothing about the mine and see almost no benefits from it. The mineworkers, they say, are not drawn from the village.
Nearby Mapholaneng has a store and a filling station. There is nothing in Letseng to suggest life was any different 100 years ago.
Though many residents say they come from farming areas, they cannot start a vegetable garden on the rocky ground their houses stand on.
There are no schools — which is just as well, because there do not seem to be any children in this community of nearly 100 huts. They get plenty of visitors, though — young men who come from all over Lesotho hoping to land a job at the mine. Most leave disappointed.
Villagers suggest the area is diamond-rich — although not in the precise site where JCI is mining. Many, including Khadebe Pitso, eke out a living digging for gems ”about two hours’ walk” away, where he and others toil with picks and shovels. Pitso says good days are few and far between, but he remains optimistic.
One Letseng woman musters enough trust to show some of the diamonds she has collected, on condition that she is not named or photographed. She is hoping that one day, a buyer offering reasonable prices will pay her a visit.
The woman’s behaviour explains the villagers’ treatment of outsiders. Disappointment, even hostility, surface when a visitor turns out to be a journalist rather than a diamond buyer. Few are willing to trade what they consider idle chat with people who are not interested in buying stones.
There is some relief, though, that I am not a government official out to clamp down on illegal diamond mining.
Pitso is more forthcoming. After spending most of his working life on the South African gold mines, he arrived in Letseng 17 years ago, joining the hundreds who have come to the area to seek their fortunes after diamonds were first discovered in the Malutis in 1957. He says his children have been left with other relatives because Letseng is ”a compound” informal miners use as a base.
Pitso, who hails from Leribe, says diamond mining may have irregular pay, but it beats death in the rockfalls that killed many of his gold-mining colleagues.
It is the hope against hope of striking it rich that glues this small community together. But the residents no longer view the Letseng mine as the catalyst that will bring them a better life.
Pitso repeats the common refrain that ”this is a place of hunger”. Months go by without his being able to send his wife and extended family money. His biggest find was a four-carat stone he sold ”to some guy in Maseru” for R5 400.
For others like Madisebo Letsaka, a trip from Mokgotlong to Letseng in 1982 has not borne fruit. Yet she, too, remains hopeful.
”We came here to pick up some ‘moroho’ [spinach]. We are uncertain if it exists, but one day, we hope to find it.”