Up First from NPR - The Sunday Story: The Coal Life

Episode Date: September 17, 2023

South Africa has long been one of the world's largest consumers of coal. But the country is now in the midst of transitioning its energy supply from coal to renewable sources. But when a country moves away from a source of energy like coal what happens to the towns and communities that were built to support the coal industry. Today on the Sunday Story we bring you a story from Radio Workshop, a podcast in South Africa that works with youth reporters around the continent. Host Lesedi Mogoathe sent youth reporter Siya Mokoena and senior producer Dhashen Moodley to a coal mining town at the center of this transition to find out what happens to people who've built their lives around coal.Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

I'm Ayesha Roscoe and this is a Sunday Story. On this episode, we head to South Africa, an economic powerhouse on the African continent. For decades, South Africa's enormous electric grid has relied on coal. Now the country is in the midst of a massive experiment to switch to renewable energy. This change is expected to vastly reduce pollution, but it may also ruin towns and lives in the cold belt of South Africa. For some workers, it feels like the government is destroying their only foothold to a stable life. Radio Workshop is a podcast that collaborates with youth reporters at radio stations across Africa. Host Lissete Mugwakle sent a youth reporter along with a senior producer

to a town in the heart of the coal belt to ask the question, what will happen to people who've built their lives around coal? This is some macaroni and mousse meat. Lasagna. And the green salad. It's Sunday lunch at this Kosana's home. And it's getting cold. Nontoroso lays out a feast for her family,

her two children and her husband Adam, who loves the pork ribs. I like the ribs that is done by ourselves here at home. By my wife. The Skosanas live in Kriel in the northeast of South Africa. Kriel is a small town in an area considered the Coal Belt region. Its biggest employer is the coal industry. Look up any images of Creel on the internet and you'll see lots of pictures of huge power plants spewing smoke. The Skosanas live a modest yet comfortable life here.

They own a charming three-bedroom house. They have a large family car. Their kids are in school. They're not struggling to make ends meet, and they owe it all to coal. My parents are very hard workers, especially my dad, also my mother. Fezaga is 18 years old, and she's the first person in this Kosana family to attend university. It's a huge expense and so there's a lot riding on her. But Fezuka isn't interested in a career in coal like so many other young people in this

region. She believes that one day she'll be a successful lawyer. It's something that I always wanted to do because I didn't see myself as living in krill forever. But when Fezaka's mom, Nontogozo, was the same age, she was thrilled to get a job in the coal industry. It was luck for me. I was very lucky because some of the people, they never, never, never work in their entire lives. Nontogozo moved to Creole in the early 2000s, all the way from a rural village called Nongoma in the province of Gwazulu-Natal, where well-paid jobs for black people are hard to come by. At that time, Creel was among the fastest growing towns in the country.

There were plenty of jobs, in the coal mines or at the handful of coal-fired power stations in the area. It only took Nontogozo a few months to land a job at Creel Power Station, which is operated by South Africa's state-owned power utility, ESCOM. Nontogozo was hired as a cleaning supervisor. She also clearly remembers the day and exact time she met her husband Adam while working at the plant 20 years ago. Do you remember the day you met him? It was on Saturday, around half past eleven.

Oh really? Hey mama, hi. And say hi, my name is boy. Back then, Adam went by boy, that's his first name. But now as a father of two, he prefers to be called by his middle name, Adam. Adam was born in Creel, on a farm on the outskirts of town. In grade 10, he dropped out of high school. He was 19 then, but he easily found a job at the Creel Power Station in 1984 as a fitter.

Adam maintained and serviced the station's water treatment equipment. I'm 58 years old now and I'm still working at Creole Power Station. But that could be over pretty soon. A sweeping change is about to engulf all of Creole and South Africa and the rest of the world. There's a radical transition coming to the energy industry. And so it didn't take long for this Kosana Sunday lunch conversation to shift from food to the closure of the power station. The proposal is that Creel is closing down 2030.

So how many? It's seven years come. The government is saying that. On those papers. South Africa is the biggest polluter of greenhouse gases on the African continent. Nearly 80% of the emissions come from energy. But if all goes according to plan, the entire energy sector in South Africa will be rewired. Renewable energy will replace coal, a transition intended to dramatically reduce carbon emissions. And it's inevitable.

Coal is going away. But what happens to the people who have built their lives on coal? The world is watching to see how Creole and families like the Skosanas are going to do it. In the best case scenario, South Africa's drive towards renewable energy will deliver new and better jobs. It'll protect the environment. It'll make energy cheaper. People will have their voices heard and some of the wounds they've suffered in the past will be healed. Experts call that a just transition. But Adam doubts the transition will succeed. He says there won't be new jobs. What do you think will happen to this town if the coal mines and the power stations shut down?

It's going to be a closed town. Adam's not alone in thinking this. A lot of people are worried that they've already been forgotten. I'm Lisede Mokwate. This is Radio Workshop. To tell the story, producer Darshan Moodley and reporter Sia Mokwena

spent several days in Kriel. And they had one central question in mind during their reporting. What do you think will happen to your family without coal? I can't even answer it because our life is surrounded by coal. Yeah, it's going to be very hard. It's going to be very hard. It's going to be very hard.

Every morning, for decades, before he leaves for work at the power plant, Adam puts on his PPE. That's personal protection equipment. It is gumboots, socks, trousers and a top. He grabs a bus, arrives a few minutes early, has a cup of tea, puts on his hard hat and gloves and starts work at 7am. Adam's had a lot of different jobs at the power plant.

After a few years in one division, he'd get a promotion. A few years later, he'd get another. Today, he works with coal ash. That's one of the byproducts from burning coal. It's Adam's job to prevent it from escaping into the atmosphere. Because we are not supposed to pollute a lot of ash. When Creel Power Station was completed in 1979, it was celebrated as the first of the new generation of giants.

It was the largest coal-fired power station in the Southern Hemisphere. It was equipped with six 500-megawatt units. That could power over a million homes for a year. Adam loves working at the Creel Power Station. The work may be hard and he knows it's bad for the environment, but his job is well paid. He also receives good benefits for his family. Are you good at your job? I like my job. I like my job.

I know my job as I know myself. I know my job as I know myself, Adam says. As this kosana is mentioned earlier, the plant where they work is slated to close in 2030, in just seven years. In fact, the plant is already shrinking its operations and other plants in the region have already closed. The government promises a just transition. They say new jobs will be created in renewable energy projects to replace the coal plants. But the community is worried it won't happen. And Adam says people are already moving away.

How many people do you know have left Creel? A lot. Creel? Yeah. And where do they go? Cape Town. Almost they are going to Cape Town. Cape Town.

Middleburg. Middleburg, Free State, overseas. Nowadays they are going to Australia, Australia New Zealand. The government has hosted dozens of community meetings to explain the just transition. But we found some residents don't show up because they're held in the middle of the day. Others don't trust the government and refuse to go. And frankly, a lot of people we've spoken to hadn't even heard the term just transition, including Adam. What does the just transition mean to you?

That word, it's a new new way to me but I know this one is a little bit difficult for me to answer Were we the first people to tell you about Just Transition? Or had you heard it before? No, it was my first time What impact do you think it's going to have on you and your family with this Just Transition going through? No, it was my first time.

Well, I really don't know. I really don't know. Adam also doubts whether renewables will work, but he thinks the country should give it a shot. I think they can try this new renewable energy. I know coal, carbon is affecting our lives. What I can say maybe let them try to accommodate both of them, balance them and see if it's going to work or not. Unlike just taking

coal away on the spot. That one is going to affect a lot of people because people are going to lose their jobs as they are losing jobs right now. And where are they going to work? That's the biggest problem that we are facing right now. Fezega, Adam's daughter, says the just transition could be a good thing for the environment.

But tens of thousands of people will lose their jobs. She worries about finding work to support her family. Her mom no longer works, and her dad will have to retire in seven years. They will have to rely on me, and I'm still in school. That means I'll have to drop out and get a job then. Devastating. You're listening to The Sunday Story. We'll be right back.

Now, our change will honor 100 years of the Royal Canadian Air Force and their dedicated service to communities at home and abroad. From the skies to our change, this $2 commemorative circulation coin marks their storied past and promising future. Find the limited edition Royal Canadian Air Force $2 coin today. We're back with the Sunday story. We're listening to Lesere Mkwakle and her team at Radio Workshop in South Africa tell the story of a family from

a mining town east of Johannesburg. The family and the town are trying to understand the future as the mine prepares to close amid the country's transition away from fossil fuels. Here's Lesede. Adam hopes the just transition will force the coal mining industry to give back the land it appropriated when coal was in high demand. For generations, Adam's family lived on a huge farm on the outskirts of Creel. He offers to take us there. So, where are we going, Adam? We are going on a farm now.

Dorfwanden Farm. 71 AS. It's the name of the farm and the number. How often do you make this drive to the farm? How often do you go? Maybe per month I will go there twice or three times. The farm, or what's left of it, is at the end of a long dirt road that's completely inaccessible with a regular car. Fortunately, Adam has a 4x4 SUV.

The farm goes up there to these other trees there. And it's all around, all around, all around. The farm is a patch of land fenced in by rusty barbed wire surrounded by hectares of rolling grasslands. Cattle roam about in the distance and there's a lone tree. Beneath it, a corrugated iron shack that serves as housing for farm workers. It has no piped water or electricity. Even though Adam has access to the area, it's no longer his family's land. It's owned by a coal mine. When Adam's family lived here, they were considered labor

tenants. They worked in exchange for a portion of the land. They raised cattle, grew crops, and built their homes. But when a a portion of the land. They raised cattle, grew crops, and built their homes. But when a mining company bought the land, the Skosanas were never made part of the deal. The land they'd worked so hard for was simply taken away. Okay. This empty land, that's what we call home. We are now at home.

Adam was raised on the farm by his parents and extended family. He remembers seeing his uncles, aunts and grandparents every day. It's one, it's one, two, three, four, five, seven. Seven houses from our family. Many of his ancestors are also buried here too. This one here is my grandmother, Sophie. Sophie Skosana. This one is my grandfather. His name is Janchi Skosana.

He died in 1975. This one is his brother. There are so many graves. Some are marked with tombstones, others are not. What it shows is a connection to this area dating back to the 1800s. That's six generations of Adam's family who've lived in Creel. Some of them were the first farmers and herders in the area. Adam's father was a farmer before becoming a contract worker at Eskom.

He poured concrete to build the foundations of the town's power stations. There was also a house there. Starting from here, somewhere around here it was a kitchen. In here it was my father's room. It was a dining room. It was my sister's room. Yeah, somewhere here. You can see it on his face.

Adam longs for that time in his life. He wants to go back to living on the farm. But when the coal mine bought the land, they heavily blasted the area to reach the coal underneath. And as a result, his family's mud and brick houses cracked and collapsed. How does it feel being here? You know, I remember how the buildings were. It's painful. It's a little bit mixed up now, but it's in there. It should be here. In front of me, I've got the documents

concerning the claim of the farm Torfantine 71 AS, where we were born and bred. Adam says a just transition will mean the return of his land. But that fight has been going on for almost half his life. The proof that I have, I think, is this one. The first claim that has been done. The first one was in 1996. Adam believes he has all the necessary paperwork to prove his family's claim.

It's just that my papers are mixed up now. He even hired a lawyer to make the case. But Adam says whenever he's spoken with representatives at the mines, they deny his ownership. The mine said, no, they don't know us, they're on the farm. So the mine is saying they don't owe you anything? That's what they are saying. That's correct. Thousands of miles from Creel and the Skosanas,

France, Germany, the United Kingdom and the United States, along with the European Union, are backing South Africa's decarbonisation efforts. They are committing $8.5 billion towards the first phase of transition to renewables. It sounds like a lot, but it's only a fraction of what the country needs to turn off coal and shift to renewables. A lot more money is needed to create jobs to absorb the layoffs that will happen in coal. Money will be needed to consult with communities and provide social welfare for those who need it. And money will be needed for one more thing.

In South Africa, we call it restorative justice. So people like Adam get back what was taken from them. And that's where we're saying, you know, how do we deal with the historical injustice? Gelo Montmarsantle is a senior economist at Trade and Industrial Policy Strategies. It's a research institute that supports the development of economic policies. Gelo leads their work on the just transition and restorative justice. And that is something that's come very strongly in the South African context,

which doesn't feature in the global North context. They don't talk about restorative justice in the global North. Gaylor wrote parts of South Africa's just transition framework. That's government's planning tool. He says in a perfect world, the plan is to leave no one behind. Leave no one behind. I'm like, hello? Most people are behind. They're already behind. It's not just about leaving no one behind.

We have to bring everyone already to some level before we can take them along. Which means a just transition would need to address those past injustices while tackling new ones. That's a big, nearly impossible task, he says. Take Adam's land claims case. It was lodged almost two decades ago. Nothing has happened. Much of it is due to the backlog of claims and the lack of staff and resources to process it. Claims go on for years due to disputes, fraud and corruption.

Gelo says he witnessed the frustrations with government first-hand at a public stakeholder meeting in a coal town. He watched residents grab the mic to raise all kinds of complaints, from housing to water. It was all about daily

issues. It was like, your just transition feels very distant to me right now because I can't put bread on the table. I don't have water. I don't have electricity. And you're talking to me about just transition. We wanted to know about the future of CRIEL and the future of jobs. Will there be enough? We approached local politicians in CRIEL.

We reached out to a few academics working on renewables. We made several attempts to speak to ESCOM, the state-owned power utility. None of them were willing to talk to us. So we asked Gelo, will renewable energy create enough jobs to replace 90,000 coal jobs in South Africa? Yeah, I mean, there's no civil bullet to that. No, it's not. No single industry is going to replace all those jobs. And on top of that, then we would end up with the same pattern.

Another kind of mono-economy, it's not what we want. We need to look at diversifying the economy of the province. And it's not renewables either. So, renewable energy will play a part. But, let me be clear, the notion that everyone employed in

coal must not work in renewable energy makes no sense. None whatsoever. Why? They're very different type of jobs, very different type of skills, very different locations. Gaylor says only 2% of renewable energy jobs will be created in and around Creel. And those jobs are not on par with coal jobs. But Gaylor says there's still hope.

In his view, it starts with shutting down coal mines immediately and then hiring those retrenched coal workers to rehabilitate the land. And mine rehabilitation can create a lot of jobs. Jobs that cannot be created anywhere else because they have to be on the mine. It doesn't take huge amount of skills and it can really start to create virtuous cycles in terms of rehabilitating the land, the water. Gelos' other opportunities exist for towns like Creel. From manufacturing to agriculture and tourism, even coal ash, the byproduct of burning coal, can be used to make bricks and fertilizer.

He says there's major job opportunities once government starts to think out of the box. Let's do things. We'll get it wrong, but let's do things. Let's start. If we wait for the perfect plan, the perfect project that ticks all the Yeah, we're never going to get anything done. But no, I feel like we're waiting for that unicorn. To my room. And my room, I consider my room the best room in this house. Back at home with this Kossanas and Fezuka shows us her bedroom, there are a few photographs from high school. A teddy bear on the bed, a small desk built by her dad,

and then on a shelf above her window, where it can't be mishandled or broken, she keeps her most prized possession. Yeah, but my rock collection is up there. I can't take it down. I really love the truck. And then there are also these ones here. But then these ones, I love them because they change colours. I just love the rocks. Before deciding to study law,

Fezuka considered following in her dad's footsteps to work in the mines. She wanted to be a geologist, but she changed her mind. Law is a very broad career. That's when I was interested. And the more I heard my dad saying, I'm going to look at this lawyer because of this matter. I'm going to look at this lawyer. Oh, another trial. What's what? Justice is not served.

And then I was like, oh, why don't I pursue law? Feziga worries about whether her father will receive justice. She thinks it's fair that he gets his land back. But the government process takes so long that people die while waiting for their land claims to be settled. And in the midst of all those delays and justice, young people are looking outside Creel for opportunities to succeed. And Fezuka fears the worst.

Do you think Creole will become a ghost town? Definitely. If that happens, definitely. Fezaga's mom, Ndogozo, isn't certain that law is a good career choice for Fezaga's personality. But she is certain that she wants her daughter to keep away from jobs in mining. No, no, no. I don't want him. No, no, not at all. Not at all. Because mines are getting closed, so they're not guaranteed, understand?

So what is going to do after that? So you must take the stable one, something that you are definitely sure that it's going to be there for a long time. Nontorozo doesn't see a future for Fezega and her sons Pumelelo if they stay. I would like them to live great. At the same time, I don't want, because it makes me emotional about that one. What happens to you and Adam? In the beginning, it was just the two of us.

And at the end, it's going to be just the two of us. Yeah, we must let them go. If the power station closes and if the coal mines go away, where will you go? We have no choice because he's originally from Krel.

He's originally from Krel. So we have to go back to the farm. Okay, next time. Okay. But otherwise, we'll see you next time. Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much. to the farm. It was time for the family to drive Fizuka back to university. It's a long ride, several

hours. They'd only be back by nightfall, and so our reporters Sia and Darshan say their goodbyes to this kosanis. I want to be remembered. No, we'll never forget you. Is it? reporters Sia and Darshan say their goodbyes to this kosan. But as our team were leaving, they were left thinking about something Adam said. So if your family story started as farming,

and then the second story is coal, what's the next story? Okay, as they are talking about this renewable, maybe, maybe, I'm not 100% correct, maybe they will be there. And for Zeke, maybe it's gonna be law. Maybe that's the new family business. Yes, it can be.

This story was reported for Radio Workshop by Sia Mugwena, a youth reporter from Emalaleni FM, one of the many community radio stations we support. This story was produced by our senior producer, Darshan Moodley. Joe Jackson is our managing producer. Rob Rosenthal and I edited this podcast. Music by Kamani Sambu and Edible Audio in Cape Town. Additional music by Blue Dot Sessions. Sound engineering by Joe Jackson and Mike Rehfeldt. This episode and the work of Radio Workshop would not be possible without the support of Bloomberg Philanthropies, the African Climate Foundation, the Climate Emergency Collaboration Group and the Earth Journalism Network.

Find out more about what we do and support our work on radioworkshop.org. This episode of The Sunday Story was produced by Andrew Mambo and edited by Jenny Schmidt. If you would like to see photos from this story, you can find them at npr.org backslash up first. Our team includes Liana Simstrom and Justine Yan. Irene Noguchi is our executive producer. If you like the deep dives you get on the Sunday story, check out NPR's

Consider This podcast. This week, Consider This brings you a look at what the doubling of child poverty rates means for families already struggling, a doctor's take on a new booster, and a new era for COVID, and what it means for the world now that the war in Ukraine has brought North Korea and Russia closer. Listen to Consider This wherever you get your podcasts. We'd love to hear from you. Send us an email at thesundaystoryatnpr.org. I'm Myesha Roscoe. Up First is back tomorrow with all the news you need to start your week. Until then, have a great rest of your weekend.