Chronicle Editor
Sikhumbuzo Moyo, [email protected]
IN the face of unimaginable tragedy and heartbreak, there are individuals who demonstrate incredible courage and resilience. Petro Dladla, a former underground coal mine worker, is one such individual who faced a devastating loss that would forever change his life.
Just a month after witnessing the gravest mine disaster in Zimbabwe’s history, he made the difficult decision to walk away from his job, haunted by the memories of the Kamandama Mine disaster.
In the early 1970s, Dladla took on the role of a general hand at Wankie Colliery Company, having previously worked in the Estates Department. Little did he know that his world would be shattered on that fateful day, June 6, 1972, when an underground methane gas explosion rocked the Kamandama Mine. It was a catastrophe that claimed the lives of 427 of his colleagues, leaving a scar on the mining community and the nation as a whole.
The rescue attempts by the PROTO teams, specially trained in underground rescue procedures, were valiant but ultimately futile. The mine shaft had to be sealed off due to the severity of the disaster. Petro vividly remembers the desperate efforts to save lives, the clouds of smoke, and the ground shaking as they stood in disbelief at the extent of the tragedy.
“It was a normal day for us as we worked on the stadium. As we were getting ready to go for our tea break, we heard an unbelievable explosion coming from the direction of Number Two (where Kamandama mine is). We could see clouds of smoke of different colours and despite being far away, the ground we were standing in was also shaking. At this time, we were still in the darkness of what exactly was happening or had happened,” Dladla told Saturday Chronicle during an interview at his Entumbane house alongside his wife Cecilia.
As Dladla and his workmates were preparing for the Chamber of Mines competitions at the Wankie Colliery Stadium, just 7km away from the disaster site, they heard the deafening explosion. Their supervisor, a Reedle, used his two-way radio (walkie-talkie) to find out what was happening and by his facial expression, they could tell that all was certainly not well.
“After he ended the conversation, it took him almost a minute to relay the message to us. He said there has been an explosion at Kamandama and we needed to be on-site immediately,” said Dladla.
The scene they encountered was beyond comprehension, with scores of grieving women and children overwhelmed by sorrow. Emotions ran high as people yearned to rescue their loved ones trapped underground.
“We were asked to try and push the crowds to a safer distance which was a hard task as none wanted to move. Those of our age were threatening to go underground and rescue their fathers but we managed to push them a little bit further from the scene. In a while, police and soldiers also came to contain the emotionally charged crowd. Rescue efforts began after some hours when it was a bit safer to do so,” said Dladla.
On Day Two, they were taken back to Number One and deployed at the company’s main mortuary where they were expected to be receiving recovered bodies which turned out to be just three.
“I still have vivid memories of the state of the bodies when they came, despite being barely less than 48 hours, the bodies came heavily swollen, probably due to inhaling deadly gasses underground. It was a harrowing experience especially since I was just 20 years old and during those days dead bodies were rarely seen by such young people,” said Dladla.
During this dark time, Dladla also witnessed the visit of then Rhodesian Prime Minister Ian Smith to the accident site. Smith later addressed thousands of mourners at the nearby Madumabisa football pitch. Inmates from Lupane Prison were brought in to assist with preparing the burial site.
The sombre atmosphere hung heavy for months at the mine, and coal production plummeted while demand soared worldwide. It was a period marked by grief and uncertainty.
A month later, mine management made a public announcement, inviting all fit individuals seeking employment to report to the Number Three mine offices. Despite the risks, Dladla, driven by youthful enthusiasm and an inexplicable desire to work underground, requested a transfer. His fears had momentarily subsided, overshadowed by a sense of adventure and curiosity.
However, his underground journey was short-lived. In a terrifying turn of events, the ground shook, lights flickered, and a danger warning siren blared. Panic ensued as he and his fellow workers ran for their lives towards the exit. Miraculously, no one was injured, but the experience left Dladla shaken to his core.
The realisation set in that working underground was no longer an option. “I don’t know whether it was being a youngster or just being excited, I also asked for a transfer as I felt an urge to work underground. I somehow didn’t have any fears about the possibility of another explosion.
“We were working normally as usual, about four km from the underground entry point when we suddenly heard heavy shaking while lights were switching off and on. A danger warning siren went off and we all knew what that meant. We ran for dear life towards the exit point and luckily no one was injured serve for a few rock falls which were nothing really as we had our helmets.
Fortunately, again for the mine, the shaking never caused any damage but for me and my father, working underground was no longer an option,” said Dladla
His concerned father, waiting anxiously outside, made it clear that he would never return to the depths of the mine. Dladla had already made up his mind.
Online Reporter