OPINION: The Enduring Tracks of the Mineworkers Investment Trust
Thirty years ago, the National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) faced a turning point. The anti-apartheid struggle had shifted, and the donor funding that had supported our legal aid, health and safety, and education programmes was drying up. We knew we could not build our future on uncertain generosity. So, we resolved to create an institution that would endure and a structure that would give mineworkers and their families more than jobs, wages and strike funds.
That is how the Mineworkers Investment Trust (MIT) and its commercial arm, the Mineworkers Investment Company (MIC), came into being. We borrowed R3 million, and with that seed, we set in motion an organisation that today holds R4.7 billion in assets and a commercial vehicle worth nearly R8 billion.
But the real worth of MIT is not in its financial statements. It is in the lives transformed. The children of mineworkers who became doctors, engineers, and teachers through the JB Marks Education Trust Fund. Retrenched miners who found dignity as entrepreneurs and farmers through the Mineworkers Development Agency, and shop stewards who became informed leaders through the Elijah Barayi Memorial Training Centre.
From the start, we knew that survival required discipline. We built a “Chinese wall” between the union and the Trust. No union official could dip into investment funds. No dividends could bankroll union operations. The NUM remained funded by workers’ subscriptions. MIT and MIC were managed on professional lines.
That discipline has been MIT’s shield. While so many other empowerment schemes have collapsed under the weight of mismanagement or greed, MIT has stood firm because it never strayed from its mandate, to invest for the long term, and to channel the fruits of those investments into education, reskilling, and social upliftment.
Mining will not last forever. Like a pot of porridge, the more you take out, the less remains. Already, technology, robotics, and artificial intelligence are reshaping the industry, reducing the need for underground labour.
This is why education remains central. The children of mineworkers must be prepared for industries beyond mining. They must learn to code, to innovate, to manage businesses, and to use leisure time productively. We must invest in the skills of the future, not just the tools of the past.
For MIT to endure another 30 years, one principle is non-negotiable, incorruptibility. Organisations do not collapse because of external enemies; they collapse when those within succumb to temptation. MIT’s founders were clear. No shortcuts, no backdoors and no divided loyalties.
My message to the leaders of today and tomorrow is this. Guard that integrity as your most valuable asset. Because once it is lost, no balance sheet can restore it.
When we established MIT, we did not know how far it would grow. We only knew that mineworkers deserved more than a job and wages. They deserved an inheritance of dignity for their children, and opportunities that could outlast the seams of ore.
Today, as MIT marks 30 years, it stands as proof that workers can build institutions that last. Its story is one of foresight, sacrifice, and discipline. And its future depends on whether the next generation will stay true to the tracks we laid.
MIT is not just a financial success. It is a moral one. It shows what is possible when workers invest in themselves, when governance is prioritised over greed, and when vision outlasts struggle. That is why, three decades later, MIT still matters. Not only for mineworkers, but for South Africa.
When Mandla first joined the industry, many of his colleagues could not read or write. Payslips, medical reports and contracts were confusing and intimidating. Adult Basic Education and Training (ABET) changed that. Through ABET classes, mineworkers learned to sign their own names, understand the documents that governed their lives and participate more confidently in union meetings and community decisions.
“Education is a mineworker’s widest dream,” Mandla says. “ABET gave workers dignity.” But ABET was only the beginning. As the NUM leadership worked with MIT to establish the JB Marks Education Trust Fund, a new layer of opportunity opened for mineworkers’ children – access to colleges, universities and professional careers that had once felt out of reach.
Today, Mandla proudly tells the story of families where the parent started out illiterate, and the child became the first graduate – in some cases, going all the way to a PhD. What once seemed impossible for a mining family has slowly become part of a new normal: children of rock drill operators, cleaners and general workers becoming doctors, engineers, teachers, accountants and researchers.
For Mandla, graduation ceremonies are the most emotional part of the journey. He has watched parents travel long distances in their best clothes to sit in university halls they never imagined entering. He has seen the look on a mother’s face when her child’s name is called, and the realisation that years of sacrifice underground have helped unlock a different life above ground.
“One graduate changes the story for a whole family,” he explains. “You can see younger siblings saying, ‘If my sister can do it, so can I.’ Education doesn’t just lift one person – it lifts a household and, over time, a whole community.”
Mandla also understands that this progress is fragile. The Trust relies on contributions and careful management of resources. Economic pressures and rising costs of study threaten to shut the door on many talented young people. That is why he argues that strengthening institutions like MIT and JB Marks is not a luxury – it is an investment in South Africa’s long-term stability and growth.
In mining towns and labour-sending areas, the ripple effect is already visible. Former beneficiaries return as professionals, mentors and role models. Some sit on boards, others teach at universities or run businesses that employ more people. Each success story is a quiet answer to the question of whether mineworkers’ sacrifices have been worth it.
From ABET classrooms on mine property to convocation stages at universities, Mandla has watched education change people’s confidence, language and possibilities. Where once a thumbprint stood in for a signature, now degrees hang on walls. Where once mineworkers felt shut out of decisions, their children now sit at tables where policies, budgets and strategies are shaped.
“With JB Marks, there is light, there is a future,” Mandla says. His story – and the stories of thousands of families like his – is a reminder that when workers organise to invest in education, they are not only changing their own lives. They are rewriting what is possible for the generations that follow.
