The value of gold is undeniable, yet the real question becomes, where and when did it all start?
One hundred and forty years ago, the fate of Johannesburg had undeniably changed when gold was first discovered in the south of the Witwatersrand. Johannesburg commonly referred to as eGoli; the city of gold, gained its notorious and prestigious title due to its richness in mining activities. The Witwatersrand distinguished itself as, “the largest gold-producing province ever discovered”, according to DavidRusso, Dr. Sharad Master and Professor Gillian Drennan in their Jozi140 Excursion Guidebook.
Yet, beneath the surface there is a deeper layer of history that predates the official discovery of gold. The Wits Geoscience Department partnered up with Evolutionary Studies Institute, Wits Origins Centre, Joburg Tourism, Mineralogical Association of South Africa, Harmony Gold and Historical Papers Research to provide a two-day excursion that uncovered the hidden stories that paved the way for the birth of gold.
Iron Age History
Upon arrival at Melville Koppies, tour guide, Sandra Murray shed light on the Iron Age history which Professor Drennan described as a time of “pre- mining, mining.” It was a time characterised by lot of economic activity, mining and trade at the koppies. Archaeologist, Professor RJ Mason discovered seven archaeological sites in the 1960s at the Melville Koppies such as Stone Age camps between 250 000 and 100 000 years old, a 500 year old ancestral Tswana iron furnace, and 300 year old Tswana hut floors and pottery. Other artefacts on display included stones used to make weapons and the only iron furnace that is being preserved at the Melville Koppies.
A photo of an information board about the Iron Age Kraal at Melville Koppies. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana An illustration of early farmers at Melville Koppies. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
Geological History
Alongside the rich remnants of the iron age, is the geological history embedded in nature that precedes the existence of humankind. The contorted beds (see fact box) found alongside the pavements near Helpmekaar College act as a testimony. Professor Drennan said, “Without the contorted beds we would not have discovered the gold in the extension of the East Rand and West Rand,” and this is due to their highly magnetic nature which aided in the discovery of goldfields beyond the Central Rand. “The Contorted beds have been around for roughly 2.9 billion years and give a snapshot of what was going on around the time, [in a geological context], you can see when life was coming in, evidence that there was oxygen in the early atmosphere,” added Dr Glynn.
Info Box
Contorted Bed iron formation, also known as the Jan Smuts bed (South African Committee for Stratigraphy, 1980), is known for the small-scale incongruent folding present in it at many localities. Source: Economic Geology
When one looks closely, you can see a glistening effect within the contorted beds, which is due to individual crystals. Alongside the magical contorted beds is the Witpoortjie Waterfall located at the Walter Sisulu National Botanical Gardens where the water flows over the white quartzites of the Witwatersrand and shale rock. According to Whitfield, “the falls were already recognised before the discovery of gold and were recorded on Fred Struben’s 1885 prospecting map of the district.”
A photo of the Witpoortjie Waterfall at the Walter Sisulu National Botanical Gardens. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
“Prior to the discovery of the Main Reef in 1886, the Witwatersrand was a sparsely populated landscape of open grassy plains, rocky quartzite ridges, and numerous streams and waterfalls. Today, the same landscape has been transformed into the Johannesburg Metropolitan Area… the present-day landscape is strongly controlled by the underlying geology,” writes David Russo, Dr. Sharad Master and Professor Gillian Drennan in the guidebook.
The Walter Sisulu National Botanical Gardens also offers a self-guided trail where one can learn about the history of rocks that were significant in shaping the Witwatersrand landscape.
A photo of a detailed information board about granite at the Walter Sisulu National Botanical Gardens. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
A photo of a detailed information board about Tillite at the Walter Sisulu National Botanical Gardens. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
A photo of an information board about coal at the Walter Sisulu National Botanical Gardens. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
A photo of a detailed information board about The Bushveld Complex at the Walter Sisulu National Botanical Gardens. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
A photo of a detailed information board about Quartzite at the Walter Sisulu National Botanical Gardens. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
Northwards House and Mineshaft Museum
To get a glimpse of what life was like for mine owners, we visited a 122-year-old mansion, Northwards House, which was initially built in 1904 for John Dale Lace and his wife Josè Dale Lace. Mr Lace owned the Lace Diamond Mine. A tragic fire forced the Dale Lace’s to move out in 1911. A year later, gold Randlord Sir George Albu and his family moved into the renovated residence. Albu was one of the founders of General Mining and Finance Corporation. The Northwards House acts as a physical manifestation of its mining legacy. Inside the house, there was the business room which consisted of books about mining and the boardroom which has a map layout dating back to 1907 titled “Clifton” which is modern day Braamfontein, and on the map are familiar street names which are still used today such as: Jorissen Street, Juta Street and De Korte Street. Throughout the excursions, one is constantly reminded about how the past informs the present.
A photo of the Northwards House. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana A close-up photo of the Dale Lace family portraits. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
The commercialisation of gold
From the physical house we went straight into the underground – the source of mining, as we explored the Mineshaft Museum also known as the Ferreira Mine Stope, located three floors below the Standard Bank Building. The preserved mine site offers a real-life example of life during the Witwatersrand Gold Rush in 1886. The Ferreira Mine was one of the first mines established following the discovery of payable gold on the Witwatersrand in 1886. The dim lighting and photographs of mine workers around the walls allow one to travel back in time.
Yet the question of who was the first to commercialise gold still lingers in contemporary times; this was the opening question during Bruce Cairncross’s keynote address on Saturday, September 18, 2026, at the Wits origins Centre. In relation to the discovery of gold in 1886, he said, “the history is contentious, there were activities happening in South Africa, prior to 1886 at the Witwatersrand.” Cairncross took the audience through a timeline that credited Pieter Jacob Marais in 1853 who panned gold, yet Marais did not find its source. Additionally, there were also the Struben brothers, namely Frederick and Harry Struben who claimed to have discovered gold.
Prior to the commercialisation of gold in 1886, Frederick drew a map in 1885 which consisted of a layout of Langlaate discovery site being the Main Gold Reef. Cairncross proceeded to give a detailed overview of gold and asked the critical question of “What’s the future of gold?” to which he answered: “It looks a bit dismal in South Africa,” partly due to the fact that South Africa is not producing as much gold as it once did. To end off the first day of the excursion, the Wits Geoscience Department had an exhibition which consisted of gold samples as well as photograph archives that speak to the history of gold mining.
A photo that showcases the Wits Geoscience exhibition at the Wits Origins Centre. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
Bringing it back to the present at Museum Africa, an exhibition by Tshepo Bopape depicts his artistic interpretation of the industry, and asks, “what gives something value?” Bopape’s artwork is centred around Kimberely and its diamonds which funded the mining in Johannesburg. The art critically analyses, “the relationship between man and precious stones, it is not just economic but also psychological and spiritual,” Bopape shared. The art acts as an intersection between the history of colonisation with an interrogation around value systems and the division of society on a class and racial basis.
A photo of Tshepo Bopape looking at his artwork at Museum Africa. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
Therefore, it is evidently clear that the history of gold in Johannesburg’s Witwatersrand is multifaceted and cannot be understood through a singular story. The contribution of nature and significant landmarks contextualise how gold was formed and commercialised. However, it is important to note that the work of the unsung heroes being black mining labourers had an immense impact on the success of the gold mining sector.
FEATURED IMAGE: A photo of a contorted bed which was near the Helpmekaar College. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
Nowadays, history is no longer stored away in a box, it seeks to be at our fingertips, on a screen.
The physical Drum archive is transitioning into the digital space through the process of digitisation making it more secure and accessible for people to access.
The legacy of Drum is immortalised through universities, local heritage sites and the physical Drum Archive shop.
History continues to root itself in the present, almost demanding that its presence is felt, acknowledged and learned about. During Apartheid, one of the most oppressive periods in the country’s history, a group of predominately black men and women remained at the frontlines, writing extensively about the harsh conditions of Apartheid. Capturing moments at the right place, at the right time; giving the world a glimpse of South Africa when the apartheid government used various tools to promote a distorted image of its state sponsored violence.
The Drum crew gathered together and redefined the history of journalism, legends such as Henry Nxumalo (Mr. Drum), Todd Matshikiza, Nat Nakasa, Lewis Nkosi, Juby Mayet, Casey Motsisi, Can Themba, Bloke Modisane, Es’kia Mphahlele, Paul Magubane, Jurgen Schadeberg, Bob Gosani, Alf Kumalo and many others created a timeless blueprint that would still be used as a reference point many years later.
A photo of the frames of various magazine editions from the Drum Magazine at the Drum Archive Shop. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
To understand why Drum was so significant, one has to go back in time. Before there was Drum, it was initially the African Drum which was launched by Robert Crisp. According to South African History Online, “the content consisted mainly of tribal preaching and folktales and despite a readership of about 20 000, the magazine was not financially successful.” In 1951, Jim Bailey took over and renamed it Drum, and the media landscape was set to change forever, “the image of the magazine was transformed, and its content began highlighting urban black culture.”
Beyond highlighting urban black culture, Drum offered creatively compelling stories and photographs that were relatable for black people who rarely saw themselves being represented in the media during Apartheid. The vivid imagery, undercover reporting, and personal written insights made it stand out. Drum also gave people the opportunity to ‘Write to Drum’ which enhanced the personal connection between Drum and its readers.
Sandra Matutoane gleams as she reminisces about editions that stood out to her: “The 1955 issue of Dolly Rathebe on the beach, it is the back story of the cover rather than the cover that makes it my favourite. Dolly and the photographer had to get to the beach at 5am because black people were not allowed on the beach during those times. It was the first time a black woman appeared on a cover in South Africa, and she was in a bikini! There was total outrage!”
A photo of more frames from the Drum Archive Shop, with the Dolly Rathebe cover on the far left. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
When asked which Drum editions stood out to Professor Lesley Cowling, she shared: “Well I’d say that there are a couple of editions where Drum is introducing investigative journalism which I think are quite important. Because that changed the magazine from just being about celebrities, crimes, sports and music to also investigating problems in South Africa…
Henry Nxumalo suggested investigative journalism, the potato farms in Bethal where he put himself on the line as a farm worker to expose the brutal treatment of farm workers. And then to find ways for one of the photographers to take pictures. So that was one of the articles and there was a huge response in society to it and questions were asked in parliament about the conditions of the farm.”
A photo of the cabinets at the Drum Archive / BAHA Archive. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
It is conversations like these that transport one to a time in history that the younger generation could have never physically been a part of. The question arises; how can they access this history and experience these stories for themselves?
At Arts on Main, upon entry there is a red staircase that leads you into a world of South African history. This room holds the delicate original copies of written stories, records and photographs that date back to decades ago. Of course, this is none other than the Drum Archive, formerly known as the Bailey African History Archive (BAHA). The Drum Archive is filled with large, bright, colourful frames of iconic magazine covers that range from the 1950s -1960s and the 1970s-1980s. The cabinets offer a unique lens of history. Yet it is not sufficient for the archive to be trapped in a file.
In the physical room, there was a black tent on the far-left corner of the space. Inside is where the magic of digitisation happens, this is where the bridge between the physical archive and the soon to be digital archive connects. The digitisation process consists of “taking a physical document and converting it into digital formats.” such as digital photos, covers and stories. In a digital age, digitisation is more relevant now than ever before. It is important for history to be accessible to people from all walks of life.
A photo of some of the Drum legends at the very top and cabinets at the Drum Archive / BAHA Archive. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
In conversation with the archivist, Bongi Masawangani, she reflected on patterns/trends that come up in the process: “I’ve realised that earlier years people from overseas, researchers used to come to the archive more often. And we’d do research for them. But since we’ve started digitising, it tells us that it is working because there is no need for them to come physically to the archive, they can access it wherever they are. So, it reduces even the expenses…”. A trend that also reveals the contrast between local and international engagement with the archive.
The legacy of Drum is felt beyond the physical room at Arts on Main. Masawangani said DRUM is being immortalised in different places such as the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA), the Apartheid Museum, the William Cullen Library at Wits University, the Steve Biko Foundation and Nelson Mandela Foundation. The Drum Archive store adds a creative touch to the archive by incorporating it in everyday items such as t-shirts, mugs and notebooks.
A variety of photos from the Drum Archive shop, that consist of notebooks, t-shirts, vests and postcards. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
Matutoane shared how young people who come into the Drum Shop “have a sincere sense of curiosity about the magazine even though your Gen Z / Gen Alpha have very little idea of what Drum is or where it fits into the history of South Africa.” Matutoane emphasises how the lack of knowledge is not a barrier but an invitation for young people to discover more.
For the curious, ordinary person who may come across the archive’s content online, knowing how to make use of it is key. Masawangani said, “Everything that is online is copyrighted, so even an ordinary person that is interested in using BAHA material, you need to contact our license person, Kate Dearlove. You need to write an email to Kate and explain how you want to use the image, whether it is for academic purposes, or you want to publish a book, or you want to use the image for a film, you need to ask for permission.”
Evidently, digitising the archive becomes an important asset to society, allowing people to engage with South Africa’s history, and ensuring it is more widely available as time progresses. Above all else, digitising ensures the sacred history does not get lost.
FEATURED IMAGE: A photo of the frames of various magazine editions from the Drum Magazine at the Drum Archive Shop. Photo: Sikelelekile Pahlana
Architecture is often associated with what it produces: the walls, windows, and spaces that become a part of our everyday life. But before a building exists; someone must imagine it.
For two young women from the Wits School of Architecture and Planning, imagining took them beyond Wits and into Vienna, Austria, after they were selected to attend an international architecture summer school.
Jaimini Ranchod and Maimuna Dadi Patel, two third-year Wits students, were selected to attend the annual Vienna Architecture Summer School, a week-long programme that brings architecture students, graduates and young practitioners from all over the world together to one of Vienna’s largest social housing estates in the former laundry hall of Sandleitenhof.
For Ranchod and Dadi Patel, the invitation was based on their studio work and great academic performance. It became an opportunity to learn and exchange ideas alongside young graduates and practitioners from different parts of the world, including Estonia, Italy, and France, among others. “I think this opportunity has allowed me to be so much more open-minded, being able to see things from multiple perspectives, and understand other people especially when they come from cultures and contexts different from mine,” shared Dadi Patel.
Architecture student Maimuna Dadi-Patel hanging up photographic prints. Photo: Richard Pobasching
The opportunity
Being exposed to people and work from across the world encourages students to understand that cross-culture allows them to question any ideas they may have taken for granted, said Dr Sandra Felix, lecturer at the Wits School of Architecture and Planning. “The exposure to other ways of practicing architecture makes these students aware of the way in which South African architects practice,” she said. For Ranchod and Dadi Patel, it means returning home with new understandings and global perspectives.
And interacting with young women specifically, interested in the same things as them, but all coming to the opportunity with different ways of viewing the same abstract ideas was particularly enlightening. “It feels that although we are from different contexts, we are almost cut from the same cloth,” said Dadi Patel “We share the same struggle of being women in a male dominated field.” The sense of being “cut from the same cloth” shaped how the students could think and interact with their identity in their designs, and how who they are influences what they choose to preserve, change, or build around them.
TheWitsedge
Ranchod’s path to Wits was not straightforward. She started in biomedical science and realised it wasn’t a space she wanted to be in. After taking a year out to study interior design, she ventured into architecture. Her initial plan was to study at UCT, but she chose to study at Wits. “Wits has built a reputation as one of the best places in South Africa, and I think the continent, to study architecture.” she explained. Beyond the institution’s legacy, being close to her family in Johannesburg mattered to her, because they are her support system.
For Dadi Patel, studying at Wits was intentional. “I started architecture at Wits because it was one of my top choices, and it is close to home.” Along the way, she doubted herself, and felt anxious about managing such a demanding course, where students have to do everything from designing by hand to physically constructing models Over the past two years, that doubt turned into passion, shaped through her work and her interest in thinking about things differently. Understanding the architectural space as something broad that encompasses people, environment, and context has helped her grow into how she sees herself as a young architect.
The sense of growth is reflected in the field itself. South African architecture has traditionally been a profession dominated by white men. However, the narrative has shifted, with women of colour leading in some of the most celebrated architectural spaces. Women like Yasmin Mayat, co-founder of Mayat Hart Architects and an accredited heritage practitioner, and Sumaya Vally, founder of Counterspace, who became internationally renowned in 2021 after becoming the youngest architect ever to design London’s Serpentine Pavilion, have paved the way. Nadia Tromp, owner of Ntsika Architects, became the first African woman in 2017 to win a World Architecture Festival Award for her Westbury Clinic among several other awards, and Dr. Huda Tayob, who focuses on research in migration and identity in the architectural space, are examples of women of colour in architecture who are reshaping the field. Through their work, students can see that change is possible.
The shift was clear to the pair in Vienna, with Maimuna sharing that the workshop was more female dominated. For both, representation matters in a space where woman could still be undermined for choosing to study the course.
Photographic prints and notes clipped to line. Photo: Richard Pobasching
Looking forward
When asked about what they want their architecture to say about them in the future, Ranchod wants her architecture to feel like a safe space for the communities who use it and makes room for those who use it after her. “It should feel like it belongs exactly where it is, and it was built just for the community who uses it. What matters most is that people are comfortable enough to use the spaces I designed,” she explained.
Dadi Patel wants her architecture to be thought-provoking and beneficial to communities. “I want my architecture to say that I have done something for the people and didn’t just design selfishly. I would want to make a change in the world. I want to do more than what architecture is known for, I want to show that I am changing and the world is changing” she said.
The future is no longer about just building new spaces – it is about adapting to what already exists in ways that cater for communities and including the diverse voices that have been excluded from designing them.
Jaimini Ranchod constructing a structure out of white string. Photo: Richard Pobasching
FEATURED IMAGE: Architecture students measuring and aligning work on a wall. Photo: Richard Pobasching
Amid South Africa’s escalating housing crisis, one mother fights through the chaos to build a home for her family.
Right before night spills into day, the valleys of Eldorado Park are bathed in shadows of deep purple. Nestled in the grassy plains stands a makeshift house no larger than six paces in length. Almost a year into its existence, the shelter stands tall as one of the first built in the informal settlement of Actionville. Steadily, life unwinds within the corrugated iron and rusted zinc walls of this little matchbox.
In the inky black darkness, Elizabeth Percent (41) peels back the covers and rises before the sun to make breakfast for her children. She walks to the gas-stove, guided by the weak glow of her phone flashlight. Tick-tick-tick. A tiny blue flame erupts from the cylinder with a hiss. Methodically, Elizabeth sets her pot on the metal stand and begins slicing bread.
Elizabeth seated on the bed with her children. Photo: Hannah Brown.
“We had to make fires in the beginning,” Elizabeth says with a distant gleam in her eye. “Everything was on a fire. Your home smelled like a fire even.” She pans her gaze to her children scattered around on the bed, her eyes lowered. “I now cook on a gas-stove. If it was me 3 years ago, I would’ve never done gas.”
Her four children stir in the dark from the commotion. Willow (3), her granddaughter whom she was babysitting, remains within the warm nest of blankets, unwilling to budge. Spurred by their mother’s commands, each child begins performing their morning rituals like clockwork under the dim glow of a battery-powered lamp.
Cleotus (10) is lacing up his shoes. Anastacia (9) is pulling her hair into elastics. Tarryn (5) and Willow sit huddled together under the covers, squealing as big sister Hayley (16) comes to wipe their grinning faces with a cloth.
The shelter where Elizabeth and her children reside. Photo: Jamie Ho.
As the sun peeks over the valley into the lace-adorned windows, a soft golden light trails up the corrugated walls, illuminating the cheery faces huddled on the bed. Elizabeth carries steaming bowls of porridge to them. Excited squeals are silenced by the hasty shovelling of spoons into hungry mouths.
At the far end of the room is an old sink bowl, disembodied from any pipes, where dishes pile high, but no water trickles from the spout. Instead, Elizabeth carries water back and forth from the JoJo tanks installed around the settlement, storing them in containers under the table. She empties one into the pot, which she sets on the stove.
“We never used to have JoJo tanks,” she explains, “The surrounding community used to assist us with water.”
A JoJo tank installed along the path in Actionville. Photo: Jamie Ho.
However, despite having access to the tanks, the community still faces many problems with sanitation, especially since there is no running water for toilets. “We have manholes,” Elizabeth says, “We dig a hole and we use the bucket system. Or you do it in the house, or if you’re comfortable, in a small area outside and then you go and throw it away and wash your bucket.” This process, however, fills her with dread as it exposes her children to unsafe, unhygienic conditions.
Now the warm sunlight has filled every crevice of the shack and has ignited a burst of energy in the children. They begin soaring onto the bed, charging out of a home too small to contain their joy. Bursting out of the door, the cold morning wind pools over their tender faces as they sprint around the four corners of their fenced-off yard.
“I feel like a superintendent sometimes,” Elizabeth says with a slight chuckle. “Everything needs to be in order. If each one stays in their lane and just follows through on what [their] responsibility is, it’s easier.” She casts a stern glance at Tarryn and Willow, who are fighting over a mic.
Hayley pulls open the low metal gate, and the children spill out from the yard into the copper-red plains. Elizabeth chides each one to make a line, and, like magnets, her children form a chain-link of hands.
Down the open dusty road, they strut like soldiers. The chants of an army of children carry through the air.
“We walk straight. We walk straight. If you don’t move out the way, we will kick you in the face,” they sing, lifting their legs up high to kick the air in front of them.
“This used to be an open field,” Elizabeth states, gesturing towards the settlements dispersed around the grassy plains.
Informal dwellings scattered across the grassy plains. Photo: Jamie Ho.
Actionville is one of thousands of informal settlements that have sprouted across the country born out of a desperate, decades-long housing backlog that has left millions waiting on government waiting lists.
A year ago, during the early days of Actionville, residents faced constant pushback from law enforcement, with Elizabeth’s home under threat of being bulldozed. To comply with their demands, she chose to dismantle the shelter herself.
“If they do get it right, it’s a demolish,” Elizabeth explains, “They use their bulldozer and they drive over your home so it’s damaging everything that’s in there, and this was my home. It’s been my home for the longest time.”
Eviction threats are a recurring reality for informal dwellers. Time and again, police have raided communities to tear down newly erected shacks, only to meet fierce resistance from residents determined to protect their homes.
Under the current Prevention of Illegal Eviction (PIE) Act, authorities must secure a court order before demolishing homes. Proposed amendments would remove this requirement, making evictions far easier. While officials claim the changes target illegal land syndicates, housing rights advocates warn the loss of these legal protections will leave vulnerable families like Elizabeth’s with nowhere else to go.
“If they make this amendment, we could lose everything,” Elizabeth says solemnly.
Her grip remains firm on her children’s hands as they approach the school. As she hugs each one goodbye, she watches them depart, their chattering and giggles fading round the bend.
Elizabeth and her children walking to school. Photo: Jamie Ho.
FEATURED IMAGE: Elizabeth seated on the bed with her children. Photo: Hannah Brown.
Anglo American, African Rainbow Minerals, and Oppenheimer Memorial Trust donate millions but is it philanthropy or power play?
Mining-linked donations are funding new buildings and research at Wits University.
Some students and experts worry these gifts give companies too much influence.
The debate is growing over who controls public universities and whose values are reflected.
What do Duncan Wanblad, Patrice Motsepe and Nicky Oppenheimer have in common? They represent corporate interests that have embedded themselves into the heart of Wits University. With millions tied to South Africa’s contested mining industry, these power players are funding high-profile projects that promise innovation and progress.
Oppenheimer’s family trust committed R15 million over five years to fund the African Future Studies Initiative, Motsepe’s African Rainbow Minerals (ARM) sponsored R20 million into research for the engineering school, and under Wanblad’s leadership, Anglo American spent R90 million to transform Wits’ planetarium into the corporate-branded Digital Dome. Their philanthropy raises a pressing question: When mining companies fund public universities, do academics look through a telescope or a company lens?
The uncomfortable truth
Behind the gleaming new facilities and bold promises lies an uncomfortable truth – corporate donations to universities are not always neutral acts of generosity. The Oppenheimer family made their fortune from diamond mines that fuelled colonial exploitation. Just last month, ARM faced protests over claims it sold coal to Israel, GroundUp reported. Anglo American, on the other hand, promotes sustainability goals while remaining one of the world’s biggest coal producers, according to its website. These companies pour millions into the institution while their mines keep digging. Do they shape the future or protect a violent and extractive past?
The Wits African Rainbow Minerals Building, renamed in 2023 after a R20 million donation from one of South Africa’s largest mining companies. Photo: Rivaldo Jantjies
What’s given?
Headquartered in the economic hub of London with a secondary listing on the Johannesburg Stock Exchange, Anglo American’s R90 million commitments granted the company naming rights to the new digital dome that opened to the public early this year, placing its brand at the centre of a major academic and public institution. In 2024, the company was ranked 654th on the Forbes Global 2000 list of the world’s largest companies.
Speaking about their shared legacy of advancing both mining and education, which has shaped Johannesburg and South Africa, Anglo American South Africa said, “The relationship between Wits University and Anglo American started in 1896 when the university, then known as the South African School of Mines in Kimberley, offered services to De Beers.
The new Wits Anglo American Digital Dome is more than just a facility – it’s a symbol of what’s possible when we unite in our vision to shape a better future through education, technology and innovation.” At the same time, Professor Zeblon Vilakazi (FRS), Vice-Chancellor and Principal of Wits University, told Wits News: “Through the Wits Anglo American Digital Dome, we hope to continue inspiring people from various disciplines, including those working in climate modelling, artificial intelligence and the digital arts.”
The Wits Anglo American Digital Dome, unveiled in 2024, was funded through a R90 million donation from the mining giant. Photo: Rivaldo Jantjies
In 2023, Wits University announced a partnership with one of the nation’s leading coal suppliers, African Rainbow Minerals. The JSE-listed corporation’s R20 million endowment is backing research that connects mining to the future — exploring energy transitions, automation, and the digital technologies that are transforming how resources are extracted and utilised. This partnership saw the company replace the then Chamber of Mines Building on the Braamfontein West Campus, facing the M1 highway, renaming it to the Wits African Rainbow Minerals Building. ARM selected Wits University for this partnership because “it is one of the globally respected academic institutions and the home of the Mining Precinct, a key hub where industry leaders can engage and ensure the mining sector’s contributions are recognised by both students and the broader academic community,” ARM said in a statement.
Plaque outside the Wits African Rainbow Minerals Building, unveiled in 2023 to mark the renaming of the former Chamber of Mines Building following ARM’s donation. Photo: Rivaldo Jantjies
In the third quarter of 2021, the Oppenheimer Memorial Trust (OMT) donated R15 million to the African Future Studies Initiative at Wits University. The partnership was announced as a five-year commitment to support university research focused on challenges in Africa. The OMT was founded in 1957 by Harry Oppenheimer to honour his father, Ernst Oppenheimer. The memorial trust, established by the Oppenheimer family, is connected to Nicky Oppenheimer — the family’s heir and Africa’s third-richest person, with a net worth of $10.5 billion, according to Forbes’ real-time billionaire rankings.
At the time of the announcement, Tracey Webster, Chief Executive Officer of OMT, told Wits News, “The Oppenheimer Memorial Trust has a long tradition of investing in higher education and building the local academy. Given the ever-changing context we live in, it is imperative that we focus on developing a generation of researchers, scientists and academics that will ensure South Africa remains competitive and relevant in the 21st Century.” These contributions follow earlier markers of the family’s legacy at the university, including the Ernest Oppenheimer Hall of Residence, established in 1967, and the Oppenheimer Life Sciences Building. The trust did not respond to a request for comment from Wits Vuvuzela.
This bar graph shows the value of donations made to Wits University by major mining-linked donors between 2021 and 2024, highlighting contributions from the Oppenheimer Memorial Trust, African Rainbow Minerals, and Anglo American. Graphic: Rivaldo Jantjies
Who Really Benefits from University Donations?
Professor Imraan Valodia, Professor of Economics, Pro Vice-Chancellor of Climate, Sustainability and Inequality, and Director of the Southern Centre for Inequality Studies at Wits, said donations to universities often come with multiple motivations. Some alumni give because they benefited from the education they received. Others do it for tax reasons or because they want their names attached to buildings or projects. “A third reason may be the companies that have benefited from having a university related to their business feel that they need to contribute to that university,” he said, pointing to the long-standing relationship between Wits and the mining sector.
While this funding can support important academic work and help students, it also raises questions about influence. “There is of course, always a danger that by accepting these sorts of donations, universities may become beholden to these wealthy people’s interests,” Valodia explained. He noted that Wits has a Naming Policy to guide how donations are handled and believes that the university’s academic and management decisions remain independent. However, he warns that the risks are real, especially when donors or even governments try to shape what universities teach or research. This is now playing out in the United States, where debates at Harvard and Columbia University highlight how both private and political interests can pressure universities.
Tlhompo Thogomusi, a fourth-year LLB student and chairperson of the Wits EFF Student Command, sees these donations as more than just financial support. He argues that philanthropy from mining magnates is “a form of tokenism,” used to legitimise their power and wealth while “distracting from the exploitative nature of their business practices.” For Thogomusi, this isn’t just about naming rights — it’s about the consolidation of class power and ideological control. “Exploitation is a fundamental aspect of this relationship,” he says, suggesting that the financial support from powerful donors helps shape the university’s intellectual space and may even silence criticism. In this view, such relationships are not neutral; they reflect the broader struggle over who gets to shape public knowledge and values.
Inside the Wits Anglo American Digital Dome, launched in 2024. Photo: Rivaldo Jantjies
Living with it
The deals are signed in boardrooms, but the consequences play out in lecture halls. For many students, the university’s partnerships with mining giants aren’t abstract — they are part of daily life. Walking past buildings named after billionaires whose wealth came from extractive industries feels jarring, especially for students from communities affected by mining. According to a student who asked to remain anonymous, “It’s hard to sit in a lecture about inequality in a building named after someone who profited from it.” The university’s efforts to position itself as a future-facing institution are complicated by a past — and present — that many students are still reckoning with.
The money flows in, new buildings fill the skyline, and the questions keep piling up. In a city built on the profits of mining, the past still casts a long shadow. As universities align with major industry players, students and academics are left wondering who really shapes the future, and who pays the price.
FEATURED IMAGE: The Oppenheimer Life Sciences Building at Wits University, named after one of South Africa’s most prominent mining families. Photo: Rivaldo Jantjies
The pandemic had a devastating effect on the morale of members of clubs and societies in 2020, but 2021 provides new opportunities to remain relevant. (more…)
The university acknowledges that “a graduation ceremony is a major life event and we understand that many graduands were disappointed by the events that transpired”.
Wits moves to a cloud software that can host the full scope of the university community using the platform at once, without strain, that offers a modern, easy-to-use interface.
Social distancing and other covid-19 protocols followed as rugby team hopes the Varsity Cup tournament will go ahead after the pandemic forced its abandonment in 2020.
In episode six of We Should Be Writing season 7, the team unpacked the evolution of music as a form of expression and protest, through four decades in the South African context. The episode explores the journey of South African music and its consumers from the 80s, 90s, early 2000s and contemporary listeners. From the […]
