Crushed hopes, unyielding spirit: The silent toil ...

Crushed hopes, unyielding spirit: The silent toil of Harare's stone breakers

Witness Runodada- Zim Now Reporter

Far from the bustling avenues and formal commerce of Harare, a different kind of industry quietly grinds on.

Here, amidst piles of jagged rock and the acrid smell of burning rubber, groups of men and, crucially, women, engage in a back-breaking struggle for survival.

Their days are spent relentlessly chipping away at massive stones, reducing them to the gravel that will eventually form the foundations of buildings and roads they may never tread. For many in this overlooked corner of Harare, quarrying is not just a job; it has become an ingrained, albeit arduous, way of life.

The process is a testament to raw human effort against the unyielding power of nature. It begins with imposing boulders, stubbornly resisting any immediate attempt at fragmentation.

The first stage involves a crude yet effective method: burning the stones using old tyres. The intense heat weakens the rock's structure, and after hours of scorching and subsequent cooling, cracks begin to appear, offering a fragile point of entry for human force.

What follows is a gruelling, multi-stage process of manual crushing. Armed with hammers and sheer willpower, workers break the softened stones into manageable chunks. These are then further reduced to smaller fragments, and finally, painstakingly hammered into the tiny, gravel-like pieces demanded by the construction industry.

Rosemary Mapikaira, a veteran of the quarry in Retreat, her hands bearing the indelible marks of years of toil, offers a stark insight into the time and effort involved.

“From the time we start burning the stone to the point where we get the small pieces, it can take up to five days just to fill one 20-litre bucket,” she explains, her voice weary but resolute. “It’s really hard for us, but we had no option but to face reality. After all that struggle, we sell the bucket for just a dollar.”

That single dollar, a pittance in the face of such immense labour, represents an entire week's worth of relentless work for some. Others attempt to move larger volumes, pushing wheelbarrows laden with crushed stone in the hope of a slightly better return. A full wheelbarrow might fetch US$3, while a cubic load, equivalent to roughly twelve wheelbarrows, is sold to builders and construction teams. Yet, even this income is far from secure.

The precarious nature of their earnings is exacerbated by increasing competition and the harsh realities of Zimbabwe’s economic climate. Prices have plummeted as desperation drives sellers to undercut each other. Timothy Saidi, who has spent years in the quarrying trade, laments this downward spiral. “We couldn’t have a proper price because everyone thinks of his or her struggles,” he says, the resignation evident in his tone.

“So, he or she just takes that money. But still, the body continues to suffer more.” Some are now forced to offer a wheelbarrow load for as little as $1.50, a desperate measure to avoid going an entire month without a single sale.

For many, this arduous work has become a full-time occupation, a daily grind that begins with the sunrise and stretches into the fading light of evening. Others juggle quarrying with other informal jobs, a constant hustle to make ends meet in a challenging economic landscape. Yet, despite their unwavering effort, days often pass without a single customer, leaving them with nothing but aching muscles and dwindling hope.

“There are times we can go for four days without selling even a bucket,” one woman shares, her voice laced with frustration. “It’s painful because the work we do is not easy, and there's no guarantee anyone will buy.”

Within this demanding industry, the role of women is particularly significant and often overlooked. Women like Rosemary are not just supplementing family income; they are often the primary breadwinners, single-handedly shouldering the responsibility of feeding and caring for their families. They endure the same gruelling physical labour as their male counterparts, yet often face additional societal burdens.

Their presence in the quarries highlights their resilience, their determination to provide, and their crucial contribution to the informal economy. They are mothers, sisters, and daughters, whose strength and unwavering spirit are essential to the survival of their families and the community. Their participation underscores the vital role women play in Zimbabwe's society, often in the face of immense hardship.

The community has organically built an informal economy around the quarrying trade, a testament to their resourcefulness. Spouses and family members of the stone breakers often set up small stalls at busy intersections, selling tomatoes, bottled water, or sweets to supplement the meager income from the quarry.

Others have found a niche in sourcing and preparing the fuel for the stone-burning process. Discarded tyres from illegal dump sites are repurposed, or bought for a small fee depending on size, providing the necessary heat to weaken the stubborn rocks.

Despite the absence of formal regulation or oversight, a strong sense of community and trust prevails within this tight-knit group. Theft is reportedly rare.

“Those who steal here are usually the people who operate here,” Timothy Saidi explains.

“When people see someone taking something, they think it’s just part of the usual work. But stealing is rare.” This inherent social cohesion speaks volumes about the shared struggle and the understanding that survival depends on mutual respect.

In a nation grappling with high unemployment and persistent economic instability, the story of these stone breakers is a powerful narrative of silent resilience. They toil tirelessly without benefits, without safety nets, and with little recognition from the wider society. Their bodies bear the physical testament to their endless labour—cracked palms, strained backs, skin weathered by the harsh sun.

Yet, their unwavering determination to survive, to provide for their families, keeps them returning to the dusty quarries day after day.