From Wonderkop to Resistance: My Journey into Activism
Koketso Sibanda
I am Koketso Sibanda, born and raised in Wonderkop, a spirited community in Marikana, North West Province, South Africa. Our home is steeped in struggle and resilience, its legacy marked by the hopes of its people and the scars left by injustice. Just a few kilometers from the Sibanye mine, my childhood was shaped not only by the people around me but by what I witnessed happening to our land, our health, and our dignity.
From a young age, I began noticing the injustices that hovered over us like dust in the air quite literally. Our skies often carried chemical odours, and the water from nearby streams was unsafe. People around me began to suffer from unexplained illnesses, coughs that wouldn’t go away, skin rashes that burned, and lives lost too soon. What unsettled me most was how all of this was made to feel normal. Children played near contaminated water, elders coughed through the night, and still, there were no answers. These weren’t isolated incidents—they were symptoms of deep environmental injustice and neglect.
The change I envisioned was clear: a community where clean air, safe water, and human dignity are non-negotiable. I wanted mining companies to answer for their impacts and for government systems to protect us, not dismiss us. I dreamed of a Wonderkop where development didn’t mean the destruction of life.
That dream led me to act. I began by documenting what I saw through photos, social media, and testimony. I attended community meetings and partnered with organizations that stood for environmental justice and youth empowerment. I helped facilitate dialogues between residents and local officials. The work was hard, and resistance came in many forms but silence was never an option.
My strength comes from Wonderkop itself: from children who walk past the mines every day, from elders who remember better times, and from our collective yearning for justice. I draw courage from the workers of Marikana, the women who never stop protesting, and the youth who refuse to be silenced. They remind me that we are not helpless.
We are the power we’ve been waiting for.
