Why the Mineworkers Investment Trust Still Matters 30 Years On
Thirty years ago, a group of mineworkers did something few could have imagined. With a borrowed R3 million, the National Union of Mineworkers planted the seed for an institution that would grow into one of South Africa’s most enduring worker-owned enterprises. From that seed, the Mineworkers Investment Trust (MIT) and its commercial arm, the Mineworkers Investment Company (MIC), were born.
Today, MIC’s Net Asset Value sits at nearly R8 billion, with plans to reach R10 billion by 2027. But the real story is not in the balance sheet. It is in the lives transformed, the students who became doctors and engineers through bursaries, the retrenched workers who found new dignity as entrepreneurs, and the shop stewards who rose into informed leaders.
MIT was never meant to be a short-lived project. From the beginning, we built walls between union politics and business operations. That governance decision was vital. It allowed MIT and MIC to stand on their own feet, focusing on the original mandate, to improve the lives of mineworkers and their families through sustainable funding.
In three decades, MIT has never failed to fund its social programmes. This track record is not an accident. It reflects a commitment to do the right thing at the right time, to ensure sustainability, and to remain focused on our purpose.
For us, dividends are not measured only in rands and cents. They are measured in futures changed. The JB Marks Education Trust Fund, established by MIT, has sent more than 3,000 children of mineworkers to university. Many of these graduates are now professionals making their mark in the economy as engineers, nurses, accountants, and teachers.
The Mineworkers Development Agency (MDA) was launched in response to mass retrenchments, giving workers a second chance as farmers and small business owners. It restored dignity where the mines had shut their gates.
And the Elijah Barayi Memorial Training Centre continues to train and reskill, preparing workers not only for technical trades but for leadership in a changing economy. Today, it is moving into Fourth Industrial Revolution skills, a proof that MIT is adapting to the times.
The story of MIT is not just the story of mineworkers. It is a story about what South Africa could be if we invested with purpose. While many empowerment schemes have faded, MIT has endured because it was never about enriching a few. It was about creating generational change.
When a mineworker’s daughter becomes a chartered accountant, or when a retrenched breadwinner becomes a business owner, the return is not just personal. It is societal. It is the kind of return South Africa desperately needs.
As we look to the next 30 years, our task is clear, growth, sustainability, and governance. MIC’s growth must continue, but always with MIT’s mission in mind. We must diversify our investments, embrace digital transformation, and ensure that our governance remains strong enough to resist short-term temptation.
Most importantly, we must remember why we exist. MIT was created to lay tracks for workers and their families to move from poverty to dignity, from general work to professional leadership. That mandate does not expire.
To the next generation of leaders who will inherit MIT, my advice is simple, stay focused. The tracks we laid in education, reskilling, entrepreneurship, empowerment, are still the tracks South Africa needs most.
At thirty years, the Mineworkers Investment Trust is more than a legacy. It is a living proof that when workers organise, save, and invest, they can create institutions that stand the test of time. That is why MIT still matters. And that is why, thirty years on, we are not only rooted in legacy. We are still rising.
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.
