the monitor

The citrus chronicles of Phikwe

Once upon a time, Selebi-Phikwe residents lived on copper. Not metaphorically — literally. Copper was the heartbeat, the bread, the butter and the occasional shiny bracelet. Then one day, the mine closed. Just like that, the town’s economic engine went from roaring bulldozer to sputtering wheelbarrow. Politicians, of course, rushed in with promises.

‘We’ll reopen the mine!’ they declared, with the confidence of magicians pulling rabbits out of hats. Only problem? The hat was empty. The rabbits had emigrated. And the promises turned out to be nothing more than political window dressing — the kind you hang up for show but never dust. I was in Phikwe this past week, and let me tell you — this town is nothing if not resilient. I arrived expecting to find a town in mourning — after all, the copper mine has closed, the economy is supposedly in gloom, and we have been told that the sky is practically falling.

Yet, strangely enough, nobody seemed to have received the memo. The streets were full of cheers. Shops were open. People were going about their business, laughing and living as usual — completely failing to behave like residents of an economy that has been declared doomed.

Editor's Comment
The Boko-led administration has to tread carefully

‘When you make peace withyourself, you make peace with the world’- Maha GhosanandaThis may come at a huge cost if not handled properly. What started off on Labour Day in Letlhakane this year, where Boko was in attendance when the militant lawyer-cum-trade unionist, Robert Rabasimane rebutted the President’s address in defence of the trade union has seemingly spiralled out of control. The issue is now creating a cat-and-mouse type of a...

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