Author: TSA Press

A
pattern
of
brutal
repression

“Itai
Dzamara’s
enforced
disappearance
was
the
culmination
of
a
pattern
of
brutal
repression
of
his
peaceful
activism,”
said
Tigere
Chagutah.

Complete
impunity

Post
published
in:

Featured

A
pattern
of
brutal
repression

“Itai
Dzamara’s
enforced
disappearance
was
the
culmination
of
a
pattern
of
brutal
repression
of
his
peaceful
activism,”
said
Tigere
Chagutah.

Complete
impunity

Post
published
in:

Featured

A
pattern
of
brutal
repression

“Itai
Dzamara’s
enforced
disappearance
was
the
culmination
of
a
pattern
of
brutal
repression
of
his
peaceful
activism,”
said
Tigere
Chagutah.

Complete
impunity

Post
published
in:

Featured

A
pattern
of
brutal
repression

“Itai
Dzamara’s
enforced
disappearance
was
the
culmination
of
a
pattern
of
brutal
repression
of
his
peaceful
activism,”
said
Tigere
Chagutah.

Complete
impunity

Post
published
in:

Featured

A
pattern
of
brutal
repression

“Itai
Dzamara’s
enforced
disappearance
was
the
culmination
of
a
pattern
of
brutal
repression
of
his
peaceful
activism,”
said
Tigere
Chagutah.

Complete
impunity

Post
published
in:

Featured

Darlington
Vivito
told
his
parents
goodbye
on
a
chilly,
drizzly evening
in
March
2023.
He
put
on
warm
clothes,
preparing
for
the
night
ahead.

The
22-year-old
left
the
family’s
small
homestead
in
Bikita,
a
rural
district
in
southeastern
Zimbabwe,
and
met
his
cousin
at
a
shopping
center.
To
avoid
suspicion,
they
ambled
around
the
dusty
grocery
stores
and
country-style
eateries.

When
night
fell,
the
pair
began
their
usual
routine.
After
meeting
up
with
a
number
of
other
young
men,
they
hitchhiked
out
of
town.
Next,
they
walked
8
kilometers
(5
miles),
through
thorny
bush,
toward
the
Bikita
Minerals
mine,
which
holds
the
largest
lithium
deposit
in
the
country.
Then
they
snuck
in.

The
roughly
1,500-hectare
facility
was
patrolled
by
armed
security
guards
in
trucks
and
on
foot.
Vivito
and
his
team
sought
out
a
secluded
area
of
the
mine,
working
by
flashlight.
They
targeted
heaps
of
lithium-bearing
rocks
that
had
been
unearthed
by
mine
workers
during
the
day,
searching
for
the
best
pieces
as
they
piled
up
slabs
of
ore
and
collected
smaller
fragments
into
sacks.
Under
the
cover
of
darkness,
other
illicit
teams
worked
their
own
sectors
as
the
guards
prowled.
Vivito
tried
to
stay
alert.

In
a
country
rich
in
minerals
but
long
plagued
by
widespread
allegations
of
mismanagement
and
corruption,
individual
mining
—
with
and
without
permits
or
licenses
—
is
commonplace.
Up
to 1.5
million
Zimbabweans are
estimated
to
be
involved
in
small-scale
mining,
with
only
around
15%
holding
permits.
Some
people
mine
informally
on
undeveloped
land
or
in
disused
mine
sites.
Others,
like
Vivito,
illegally
enter
corporate
or
government-run
mines.

The
electric-vehicle
revolution
has
created
a
global
rush
for
lithium,
an
essential
component
of
EV
batteries.
Zimbabwe
has
one
of
the
world’s
largest
lithium
reserves
and
is
the
top
supplier
of
the
mineral
in
Africa.
Its
annual
earnings
from
lithium
exports
surged
from
$1.8
million
in
total
in
2018
to
more
than
$80
million
in
the
first
quarter
of
2025
alone,
and
experts
still
see
untapped
potential.
Several
of
the
country’s
large
lithium
mines
have
been
purchased
or
built
by
Chinese
companies
since
late
2021.

The
Bikita
Minerals
mine
has
expanded
considerably
under
its
new
Chinese
ownership.

But
while
some
locals
have
found
employment,
many
others
feel
left
out
of
the
lithium
rush.

And
some
say
they
have
no
choice
but
to
steal
from
the
mine
to
survive.

China
has
the
world’s
top
EV
industry
and
dominates
the
global
lithium
supply
chain:
About
70%
of
all
lithium
is
processed
there.
As
other
nations
race
to
catch
up,
Beijing
has
leaned
into
its
long-standing
role
as
a
major
investor
in
mining
in
Africa.
In
Zimbabwe,
China’s
relations
with
the
government
are
particularly
close,
dating
to
when
it
backed
eventual
dictator
Robert
Mugabe’s
guerilla
faction
during
the
struggle
for
liberation
in
the
1960s.
Mugabe’s
successor,
President
Emmerson
Mnangagwa,
has
supported
Chinese
takeovers
of
lithium
mines,
arguing
they
will
bring
economic
growth
for
a
country
where
close
to
half
the
population
lives
in
poverty.

But
many
residents
in
mining
areas
in
Zimbabwe
say
the
relationship
with
China
is
one
of
exploitation.
The
lithium
boom
has
created
little
benefit
for
their
communities,
they
argue,
and
in
many
ways
has
harmed
them.
Residents
say
they’ve
been
displaced
from
their
homes
by
expanding
operations
at
Chinese-run
mines
with
little
or
no
compensation.
They
say
farmland
has
been
degraded
and
water
supplies
contaminated. Some residents
have
complained
that
well-paying
jobs
in
the
mines
are
often
filled
by
workers
imported
from
China
or
Zimbabwe’s
cities,
while
unions
have
criticized
conditions
and
pay.
Security
crackdowns
at
the
mines
have
resulted
in
arrests
of
illicit
miners.

“China
is
seeing
Zimbabwe
as
a
colony,
and
it
has
marked
it
as
its
territory,”
Farai
Maguwu,
executive
director
of
the
Centre
for
Natural
Resource
Governance,
a
research
and
advocacy
group
in
Harare,
told Rest
of
World.
Zimbabwe’s
mining
sector
has
long
been
allegedly
intertwined
with
the
financial
interests
of
government
and
military
elites.
But
Maguwu
accused
Beijing
of
helping
to
further
an
environment
of
unaccountability
in
which
Zimbabwe’s
leaders
“don’t
take
action
to
protect
the
integrity
of
their
own
people”
— echoing critiques of
Chinese
mining
operations
around
the
continent.

The
Chinese
Embassy
in
Harare
declined
to
comment.
The
deputy
communications
director
at
Zimbabwe’s
Ministry
of
Mines
and
Mining
Development,
Wilfred
Munetsi,
disputed
charges
of
mismanagement
and
called
allegations
of
elite
corruption
in
the
sector
unsubstantiated.
“The
Ministry
operates
with
transparency
and
accountability,”
he
told Rest
of
World.

On
a
local
level,
meanwhile,
many
Zimbabweans
feel
left
out.
“A
lot
of
people
who
live
near
lithium
mines
would
expect
to
benefit
from
this
resource,”
Grasian
Mkodzongi, a
senior researcher at
the
Nordic
Africa
Institute
who
focuses
on
natural
resources
and
the
energy
transition,
recently remarked.
“Currently,
local
people
are
the
losers.”

In
an
interview
with Rest
of
World,
he
noted
that
mine
owners
were
not
solely
to
blame
for
this.
A
nationwide
ban
on
raw
lithium
exports
in
2022
effectively
allowed
companies
with
processing
facilities
to
set
prices.
Combined
with
a
subsequent
plunge
in
global
lithium
value,
this
decimated
Zimbabwe’s
small-scale
mining
sector.
“[Companies]
worry
that
the
illegal
miners
are
undermining
their
profit,
and
the
government
of
course
wants
to
control
it
for
the
sake
of
revenue,”
Mkodzongi
said.
Private
mines,
he
added,
have
also
seen
a
“heightened
militarization
of
security.”

Rest
of
World spoke
to
informal
miners
in
visits
to
communities
around
four
lithium
mines.
The
lithium
they
find
is
sold
to
middlemen,
shipped
abroad,
and
blended
into
the
global
inventory.
But
their
main
message
was
that
a
mineral
boom
they
thought
would
be
a
blessing
has
instead
brought
pain.
Miners
like
Vivito
know
their
work
is
illegal
—
but
do
not
feel
it’s
morally
wrong.
They
believe
they
should
be
able
to
sustain
themselves
with
the
lithium
buried
around
Zimbabwe. “That
is
the
only
way
we
can
benefit,”
said
a
31-year-old
illicit
miner
in
the
valley
town
of
Shamva
who
asked
to
withhold
his
name.

Illicit
miners
risk
accidental
injury
and
death
from
falls
and
cave-ins,
as
well
as
encounters
with
corporate
security.
Women
who
work
illegally
in
the
mines
told Rest
of
World they’ve
been
sexually
assaulted
on
the
job.

Vivito
had
dropped
out
of
school
three
years
earlier
to
help
support
his
family,
who
were
struggling
to
survive
on
subsistence
farming.
He
tried
and
failed
to
get
a
formal
job
at
the
mine
as
a
general
hand,
in
sorting,
and
as
a
security
guard.

Eventually,
he
turned
to
illegal
mining.
He’d
been
doing
it
for
about
three
months
by
that
night
in
March
2023.
According
to
a
member
of
Vivito’s
crew,
the
day’s
work
had
been
successful
—
they’d
gathered
a
tall
pile
of
lithium
stones.
But
as
they
tried
to
leave
the
mine,
they
found
a
pickup
truck
with
an
armed
security
guard
blocking
their
path.

“He
started
shooting,”
Vivito’s
fellow
miner
recalled.
“Darlington
screamed
and
fell.”
Vivito
had
been
shot
in
the
head.

Set
in
the sprawling
province
of
Masvingo,
Bikita
has
a
population
of
177,000
that
largely
survives
on
subsistence
agriculture,
trade,
and
mining.
Many
of
its
vast
hills
and
mountains
hold
deposits
of
vital
minerals:
lithium,
tin,
and
gold,
among
others.
For
decades,
these
hidden
riches
have
attracted
miners
of
all
kinds
—
from
artisanal
local
miners
who
dig
on
public
land
to
large
players
like
Sinomine,
the
Chinese
company
that
bought
the
Bikita
Minerals
mine
in
January
2022.

In
recent
years,
the
lithium
rush
has
brought
a
new
surge
of
activity
to
the
district’s
township
centers,
where
businesses
such
as
mobile-money
shops
and
clothing
and
grocery
stores
cater
to
miners
and
mineral
traders.

On
a
recent
evening
in
Chinhamo,
a
township
near
the
Bikita
mine,
the
streets
were
lively
as
dancehall
and
Sungura
music
blared
from
rickety
bars.
A
woman
sold
barbecue
chicken
and
pork
on
one
corner,
while
mine
workers
in
uniform
sipped
large
bottles
of
beer
nearby.
The
next
morning,
as
bartenders
cleaned
tables
and
swept
floors,
the
same
streets
filled
with
hawkers
selling
clothing,
blankets,
and
neatly
stacked
packets
of
scouring
powder,
a
mining
byproduct
used
for
dishwashing.

The
Bikita
mine
sits
a
few
kilometers
outside
Chinhamo
and
is
dotted
with
large
dump
sites.
Under
Sinomine’s
ownership, its
perimeter
has
expanded
outward
as
it
has
added
new
facilities
and
open-cast
pits.
More
vendors
selling
fruits
and
vegetables
crowd
the
turnoff
from
the
main
road
to
the
entrance.

Inside
the
sprawling
mine
complex,
steel
walkways
and
buildings
made
of
corrugated
metal
sit
beside
pits
of
gray
and
orange
earth.
The
mine
employs
1,460
people,
with
an
additional
1,400
employed
by
the
company’s
contractors,
Collen
Nikisi,
a
Bikita
Minerals
spokesperson,
told Rest
of
World
in
a
statement.
Company
policy
stipulates
that
80%
of
those
workers
should
be
recruited
locally,
he
said.

“We
offer
local
community
members
jobs
that
are
safe,
stable,
and
fairly
compensated,”
Nikisi
continued,
adding
that
the
company
is
regularly
audited
by
authorities
for
its
labor
practices.
“We
are
also
cognisant
of
the
fact
that
our
social
license
to
operate
is
generated
from
the
local
community
we
serve.”

Nikisi
said
Sinomine
has
committed
more
than
$30
million
over
two
and
a
half
years
to
community
investment,
including bringing
electricity
to
rural
communities,
drilling
boreholes
to
provide
clean
water
access,
road
maintenance
and
construction,
and
support
for
local
schools.
“Bikita
Minerals
contributes
to
communities
both
directly
and
indirectly
through
the
taxes
and
royalties
we
pay,
the
jobs
we
create,
the
local
workforces
we
upskill,
the
local
business
opportunities
we
generate,
the
infrastructure
we
build
and
the
education
and
community
health
initiatives
we
support.”

Zimbabwe’s
mineral
wealth
has
long
been
both
a
blessing
and
a
curse.
The
British
mining
magnate
Cecil
Rhodes
entered
what
was
then
the
Ndebele
Kingdom in
1888, with
his
sights
on
its
vast,
untapped
gold
fields.
Rhodes
and
his
British
South
Africa
Company
first
deceived
the
king
into
giving
them
exclusive
mining
rights
and
then
overthrew
him.
Rhodes
called
his
new
country
Rhodesia,
opening
a
bloody
and
destructive
new
chapter
in
Africa’s
colonial
history.
Following
independence
in
1980,
when
Mugabe
took
power,
mining
remained
the
backbone
of
the
national
economy,
but
foreign
companies
controlled up
to
95% of
mineral
output.
In
the
years
that
followed,
as
tensions
over
land
rights
grew,
Mugabe
pushed
for
local
ownership
of
mines,
eventually
mandating
that
each
have
at
least
a
51%
stake
held
by
Zimbabweans.

Much
of
the
country’s
mineral
wealth
remained
underdeveloped,
however,
and
the
sector
was
poorly
managed.
Rather
than
seeking
employment
in
mines,
many
Zimbabweans
turned
to
digging
on
their
own.
Even
today,
deposits
of
minerals
such
as
gold
are
often
discovered
throughout
Zimbabwe,
along
rivers,
in
fields,
and
in
disused
mines.
Locals
pan
in
rivers,
venture
into
abandoned
shafts,
and
mine
underground
pillars
left
behind
by
bigger
operations,
which
sometimes
leads
to
cave-ins
and
entrapments.

Mountain
Mujakachi,
a
former
informal
miner
who
now
advocates
on
behalf
of
the
community,
is
tall
and
gentle-natured.
He
met Rest
of
World in
May
at
a
slime
dam
built
by
Bikita
Minerals.
The
dam
collected
milky
water
tainted
by
mining
waste
and
filled
a
vast
area,
including
what
had
previously
been
a
drinking
source
for
residents.

Now
32,
Mujakachi
moved
to
Bikita
with
his
family
as
a
child
in
the
late
1990s,
when
informal
mining
was
prevalent
in
the
community.
At
the
time,
lithium
was
nearly
worthless;
it
was
primarily
used
in
the
production
of
heat-resistant
glass
and
ceramics.
When
he
wasn’t
in
school,
Mujakachi
would
observe
members
of
his
extended
family
mining
in
a
forest
close
to
home.
Sometimes
he
helped
by
fetching
water
and
food
and,
eventually,
learned
to
dig
for
minerals
himself.
“I
became
passionate
about
small-scale
mining
at
a
young
age,
after
seeing
how
it
could
potentially
change
our
people’s
lives
for
the
better,”
Mujakachi
told Rest
of
World,
recounting
how
the
trade
became
a
way
out
of
poverty
for
many.

For
decades,
locals
mined
informally
at
the
Bikita
Minerals
mine
for
gold,
tantalite,
and
emeralds,
he
said.
Before
its
2022
purchase
by
Sinomine,
the
mine
was
majority-owned
by
African
Metals
Management
Services,
a
Mauritius-based
company,
and
another
firm
led
by
a
German
investor.
Security
was
sparse,
Mujakachi
and
other
locals
said, and
informal
miners
often
worked
without
issue
by
scraping
for
leftover
minerals
in
disused
areas,
selling
what
they
found
on
the
black
market.

In
2017,
Mujakachi
began
a
four-year
degree
in
development
studies,
inspired
by
his
experience
with
mining.
He
paid
for
his
education
by
mining
on
public
land
and
at
Bikita
Minerals,
before
giving
up
informal
mining
and
founding
a
local
advocacy
organization.
“Mining
has
always
been
important
for
our
community,
and
through
it,
there
was
potential
for
the
lives
of
our
people
to
change
for
the
better,”
he
told Rest
of
World.
He
believed
the
government
should
issue
more
licenses
to
locals
and
invest
in
small-scale
mining
projects,
while
creating
policies
that
pushed
mining
companies
to
be
more
socially
accountable:
employing
more
residents,
developing
infrastructure,
and
rehabilitating
the
environment.

As
global
interest
in
electric
vehicles
grew
in
the
wake
of
the
2015
Paris
Agreement
on
climate
change,
then
soared
in
2021,
Mujakachi
and
other
informal
miners
began
to
focus
on
lithium.
Chinese
mineral
dealers
set
up
shop
in
the
area,
creating
a
buzz
in
the
community,
and
there
was
a
boom
in
the
black-market
lithium
business.
Mujakachi’s
mining
income
spiked,
even
as
more
locals
rushed
to
take
up
informal
mining.

In
June
of
2022,
Sinomine
chairperson
Wang
Pingwei
traveled
from
China
to
Zimbabwe
to
attend
the
company’s
launch
of
the
newly
acquired
Bikita
Minerals
mine,
for
which
it
had
paid
$180
million.
President
Mnangagwa
—
who’d
declared
Zimbabwe
“open
for
business”
to
foreign
investors
after
seizing
power
from
Mugabe
in
a
2017
coup
—
officiated
the
event.

“As
a
responsible
Chinese
company
rooted
in
this
heartland,
Sinomine
will
expand
its
investment,
bring
more
jobs,
[and]
develop
opportunities
for
locals,”
Wang
said,
as
Sinomine announced
an
additional
investment
of
$200
million
to
expand
production
and
vowed
to
help
the
community
with
better-paying
employment
and
local
investment.

Amid
the
new
ownership
and
expansion
of
the
mine
came
a
ratcheting
up
of
security.
Sinomine
erected
fences
and
dug
a
trench
around
the
mine’s
growing
perimeter,
hired
armed
security
guards,
and
worked
with
police
to
crack
down
on
black-market
digging.

Nikisi,
the
Bikita
Minerals
spokesperson,
told Rest
of
World Sinomine
“had
serious
cases
of
ore
theft,
and
the
company
had
to
beef
up
security.”
He
said that
over
the
last
six
months
of
2023
alone,
50
illicit
miners
had
been
arrested
and
25
trucks
had
been
impounded,
though
he
did
not
provide
more
current
figures.
A
spokesperson
for
the
provincial
police
did
not
respond
to
a
request
for
comment
on
arrests.

For
illicit
miners,
work
became
costlier
and
continued
to
be
precarious.
Three
told Rest
of
World they
now
had
to
bribe
guards
or
transport
contractors
to
dig
for
minerals
at
the
mine
and
move
out
what
they
found.
Even
so,
many
did
not
see
their
work
as
wrong.
In
interviews
with Rest
of
World,
two
illicit
miners
who’d
met
Darlington
Vivito
at
Bikita
Minerals
described
him
as
innocent.
“All
he
wanted
to
do
was
to
make
money
so
he
could
help
his
family,
like
all
of
us,”
one
said.

Six
women
told Rest
of
World they
had
been
sexually
assaulted
while
working
illegally
at
the
mine
—
a problem
that
predates
Sinomine’s
acquisition,
but
which,
four
of
the
women
said,
had
worsened
under
its
ownership.
All
of
the
women
said
they
were
sexually
assaulted
by
security
guards,
while
two
said
they
had
been
assaulted
by
fellow
miners.
One
woman,
a
single
mother
who
asked
not
to
be
named,
said she was
introduced
to
illegal
lithium
mining
in
2019,
at
age
17,
when
she
was
in
desperate
need
of
work.
She
recounted
being
sexually
assaulted
by
a
security
guard
when
the
mine
was
still
under
its
previous
ownership.
Sexual
assaults
became
more
common,
she
said,
after
security
measures
increased
under
Sinomine.
“It
was
[more]
difficult
to
enter
when
the
Chinese
came,
and
that
is
when
the
abuses
intensified,
because
we
had
to
pay
our
way
into
the
mine,”
the
woman
said.

Her
mother
and
sister
both
supported
her
allegations
about
repeated
sexual
assaults.
Like
other
women
interviewed
by Rest
of
World,
she
said
she
felt
unable
to
report
these
attacks
to
authorities.
“We
couldn’t
and
can’t
report
this
because
we
were
stealing,”
she
said.
“We
eventually
accepted
that
this
was
what
we
had
to
deal
with.”

This
sentiment
of
not
being
able
to
report
sexual
assault
or
other
abuse
is
widely
held
among
illicit
miners,
said
Leonard
Mabasa
of
the
Buhera
Residence
Network
Trust,
a
nonprofit
that
advocates
for
Zimbabwe’s
mining
communities.
“The
majority
of
cases
of
abuse
go
unreported
because
miners
are
afraid
to
report
them,
knowing
they
are
breaking
the
law,”
he
told Rest
of
World.

A
spokesperson
for
the
provincial
police
did
not
respond
to
questions
about
the
allegations
of
sexual
assault
at
the
mine.
Nikisi
told Rest
of
World that
Bikita
Minerals
had
no
documented
cases
of
sexual
assault,
“with
no
reports
filed
at
the
on-site
police
base
or
through
worker
unions
and
local
chiefs.
The
company
emphasizes
its
commitment
to
addressing
such
issues
via
a
robust
gender
policy
and
dedicated
offices.”

Some
locals
in
Bikita,
meanwhile,
say
they’ve
yet
to
see
the
benefits
that
Sinomine
promised
to
bring
to
the
community.

Ishmael
Mudhe,
a
chief
who
oversees
100
villages
in
the
area,
told Rest
of
World around
900
locals
had
been
placed
into
jobs
in
the
mine,
mostly
in
low-paying
positions.
He
said
Sinomine’s
promises
for
local
development,
however,
had
not
been
sufficient.
“We
are
not
seeing
any
real
development
in
the
community
from
the
Chinese
company,”
Mudhe
said.
“We
need
to
see
something
that
will
cater
for
generations
even
after
the
mine
ceases
to
exist.”

He
added
that
the
mine’s
previous
ownership
had
stronger
relations
with
workers
and
the
wider
community,
with
a
better
understanding
of
local
culture
and
values,
and
more
effective
communication
with
residents.
He
said
the
community
wished
the
mine’s
prior
owners
“were
still
in
charge.”
But
he
put
the
primary
blame
on
the
national
government. “The
Chinese
are
capitalizing
on
weak
policies
in
the
country,”
he
said.
“There
is
no
social
responsibility
by
the
company,
and
our
laws
are
not
holding
them
to
account.”

“Workers
are
being
treated
similarly
to
how
they
were
during
the
[Ian]
Smith
regime,”
Mudhe
added,
referring
to
Zimbabwe’s
last
colonial
leader
before
independence.

Munetsi,
the
Ministry
of
Mines
official,
told Rest
of
World the
colonialism
narrative
“ignores
tangible
outcomes”
like
job
creation,
infrastructure
development,
technology
transfers,
and
export
profits.
“Worker
safety
and
fair
labor
practices
are
non-negotiable,”
he
said,
adding
that
the
government
has
measures
in
place
to
“explicitly
enforce
social
responsibility.”

“We
are
aware
of
concerns
raised
in
Bikita
and
have
initiated
a
multi-agency
investigation
through
our
Responsible
Mining
Audit
Initiative,
which
evaluates
compliance
with
environmental,
safety,
and
community
engagement
standards,”
Munetsi
said.
“Where
violations
are
confirmed,
corrective
measures
will
be
enforced,
including
legal
action
and
suspension
of
operations.
We
reaffirm
that
all
investors
—
irrespective
of
origin
—
must
adhere
to
Zimbabwe’s
laws
and
our
Responsible
Mining
Initiative,
which
mandates
community
development,
environmental
rehabilitation,
and
zero
tolerance
for
gender-based
violence.”

Sinomine
has
announced
at
least
$300
million
of
investment
in
Bikita,
which
has
included
the
development
of
new
mining
pits,
construction
of
new
processing
plants,
and
construction
of
the
slime
dam.
The
expansion
has
seen
the
company
block
off
land
formerly
used
by
residents
for
cattle
grazing.
Villagers
living
and
farming
on
previously
undeveloped
land
owned
by
the
mine
have
been
displaced.
A
trench
2
meters
deep
now
surrounds
the
mine’s
perimeter
to
discourage
trespassers.

In
April, Rest
of
World visited
people
around
Bikita
who
have
been
affected
by
the
mine’s
recent
expansion.
“Our
houses
are
in
water
as
we
speak,”
said
Mudzingwa
Mabhachi,
86,
describing
how
he’d
had
to
relocate
after
his
home
was
subsumed
by
the
construction
of
the
slime
dam.

In
another
village,
72-year-old
Fanuel
Chahwahwa
said he’d
lost
his
home
of
22
years
when
it
was
razed
by
graders
constructing
the
trench.

Six villagers
told Rest
of
World they
lost
access
to
land
they’d
previously
used
for
their
homesteads,
to
farm,
or
to
raise
animals,
when
the
mine
expanded.
Residents
are
being
assisted
by
Zimbabwe’s
Human
Rights
Commission
to
negotiate
compensation,
Mudhe
said.
Some
residents
who
are
still
able
to
grow
food
and
raise
livestock
told Rest
of
World they
worry
the
mine
may
eventually
displace
them
too.
Residents
also
told a
local
news
outlet that
because
of
the
slime
dam,
the
walk
to
fetch
drinkable
water
was
now
4
kilometers
(6.5
miles).

Nikisi,
the
Bikita
Minerals
spokesperson,
said
the
company
had
drilled
boreholes
to
provide
residents
near
the
dam
with
an
alternative
source
of
clean
water.
He
denied
allegations
that
the
company
had
harmed
the
environment,
and
said
it
was
engaging
with
the
Human
Rights
Commission
and
local
leaders,
including
Mudhe,
“to
discuss
and
resolve
issues
affecting
the
community.”

“Bikita
Minerals
operations
haven’t
displaced
villagers.
Villagers
trespassed
into
the
mining
claim
and
built
homes.
We’re
assisting
concerned
families
as
part
of
our
ESG
[environmental,
social,
and
governance]
responsibility,”
Nikisi
added.
When
asked
about
the
government
investigation
referenced
by
Munetsi,
he
said
the
company
undergoes
a
multi-agency
government
audit
annually
and
expects
to
meet
all
its
requirements
this
year.

Some
of
those who
do
find
jobs
in
Zimbabwe’s
lithium
mines
have
reported
problems
with
working
conditions.
Labor
unions
have
raised
concerns
about
safety
standards
across
the
sector,
with
Justice
Chinhema,
general
secretary
of
the
Zimbabwe
Diamond
and
Allied
Minerals
Workers
Union,
warning
of a
“disturbing
trend”
of
accidents.
Chinhema
told Rest
of
World the
union
has
received
reports
of
accidents
at
Bikita
Minerals
as
well.
Across
the
country’s
mines,
however,
many
cases
go
unreported,
he
said,
“making
it
very
difficult
to
give
correct
statistics.”

In
one
2024 incident at
a
mine
in
the
town
of
Bindura,
a
Chinese
manager
was
caught
on
video
tying
two
Zimbabwean
workers
to
the
bucket
of
a
front-end
loader
by
their
hands
and
raising
them
into
the
air.
This
was
the
most
glaring
in
a series of
violent
altercations
between
Chinese
nationals
and
locals,
which
the
Zimbabwe
Miners
Federation
has called “a
stark
reminder
of
the
need
for
stricter
regulations
and
oversight
of
Chinese
companies
operating
in
Zimbabwe.”

Over
the
last
three
years,
meanwhile,
it
has
become
harder
for
independent
Zimbabweans
to
mine
legally.