A 34-day security assessment in the remote gold fields of Mali reveals lawless mining operations, harsh bush survival, and the hidden risks behind African resource ventures.

Because the contract in Afghanistan was shared between myself and my friend from Cape Town, it rotated on a two-month-on, two-months-off basis. The two months I was off and back in South Africa, was without pay. That meant I was compelled to get some work in while back in South Africa.

As luck would have it, soon after I arrived back in South Africa, I was contacted by the old man from the mines, (the Geologist I mentioned before) for whom I have done a few risk and security assessments on old mines that were no more in use. Mines that investors were interested in mining again.

I was very surprised to hear from him, as we had not been in contact for several years. He asked me to go to Mali in West Africa and conduct a risk and security assessment on some proposed gold ore processing plants, as well as a diamond dredging operation.

I also had to supply recommendations on a complete, viable, and effective security division in Mali. I was told that two other guys would accompany me. One a mining manager and the other a geologist. They would provide their own findings to the old man and his investors. The investors, together with a few South Africans who ran a processing plant there, had already invested some money in the operation. The South Africans were in possession of a mining concession from the Malian Government.

I met my two travelling partners at the Johannesburg airport and we flew to Mali via Kenya. We landed in Bamako, the capital of Mali. There, the team leader of the South Africans, who were funded by the old man’s investors, met us. For about a week, we stayed in a small, one-bedroom flat shared by six people, sleeping on the couches and little mattresses on the floor. I had to become familiarised with the security legislation and practice in Mali and the surrounding region.

Bamako, the Capital of Mali

I conducted an interview with the Ministry of Security in Bamako in relation to private security implementation and the possession of weapons. The interview covered legislation concerning the protection of assets, which would include search and seizure and powers of arrest by such a private security company in the country.

My partners also had to do their own homework at their level of expertise. We kept busy. The week after our arrival, we started our travels into Mali, to the proposed gold ore processing plant. The first one was in a place called Dialafara. Here the South Africans were already in operation. Dialafara is a village in Kenieba in the Kayes Region of southwestern Mali.

We travelled by car and although the distance from Bamako to Dialafara was a mere 478 km, it took us ten hours. Our driver was a local from Bamako who could put any rally driver to shame. The only language he could speak and understand besides his native tongue was French. He nearly killed us on numerous occasions with his reckless driving, and I explained to him in clear Afrikaans that I was going to break his neck if he again dared to overtake three buses at once and force the oncoming traffic off the road. I think he understood me, or at least the tone of my voice. Thereafter, there was a slight change in his driving.

Crossing the Niger River

The camp or base the South Africans had in the bush was a little plot of land out in the open with a small little building that housed some tools and had a few mattresses on the ground. There was a small shower outbuilding and an outdoor kitchen. In the centre of the plot of land, they had a bore mill, and the locals stood in long lines with bags full of stones or gold ore-bearing rocks they dug out of open pits, hoping when the stone that was crushed by the ball mill, the gold they were searching for would be present.

On the night of our arrival, we had a little braai (South African barbecue) and we met the plant manager, a South African from Gauteng. He started chatting after a few brandies, and I questioned him about the amount of gold they kept on the premises and what security procedures they had in place to safeguard the gold on site. He told me a lot of things. Then he said they do not always send all the gold they retrieve back to the investors in South Africa. Now, this was interesting as my mandate was to also to screen and do background checks on the workers involved with this mining operation. I asked a lot of questions and was shocked by some of the answers he gave me concerning the security aspects. It was clear that there was no security.

The next day I contacted a police friend of mine in South Africa and provided him with the details of the plant manager and asked him to do a criminal check on the man. He came back with information that was not good. There were a few cases opened against the man in the past, ranging from dealing illegally in diamonds and gold, but the cases were withdrawn. There was one case pending, though.

We stayed at this little base for another week, sleeping like sardines next to each other on mattresses on the ground every night. Every day I accompanied my partners, the mining manager and the geologist, and we travelled the area where they were doing their surveys and tests. I had no problem ‘roughing it’ (sleeping in the bush and no luxuries, and all that).

But when it comes to food, and I am not being fed after I was told by the client that we would be well looked after by the team leader of the South African lot in Mali, I lost my sense of humour. The situation about the food started the third week we were in Mali. We were now travelling far and wide to places like the Famela River on the Mali and Senegal border. Oher places like Haida and Matidia followed as well as Kayes. The only thing interesting I can remember about Kayes is that it was one of the places the Dakar rally (a two week-long 14 Stage race for the world’s top off-road racers of cars, quads, motorcycles and trucks) passed through when it was still held in parts of Africa during 2007.

The food became less and less. We stopped at villages and bought bush meat and other strange and unknown foods. Vegetables were a very scarce commodity in those areas. As we did not trust the bush meat and the food bought from the villages, we bought bread and tinned food whenever it was available.

After 34 days in Mali, we had done all our assessments and investigations, and we could not wait to get out and back to Bamako, the capital and civilisation. Well, sort of civilisation, but we knew there was decent food. Arriving in Bamako, we forced the South African team leader of the Mali mining operation to take us to a restaurant where we did what our geologist was so good at. We ate and drank on the team leader’s account for hours. Every time I started feeling a bit guilty, I thought of the shit we had to eat in the bush and the weight I had lost during the preceding three weeks, and I ordered again.

The following day, whilst travelling to the airport, we got stuck in heavy traffic. The Military held the traffic up and the police for the President’s entourage to travel through the city as he was on his way to watch the Malian Soccer team playing some other soccer team trying to qualify for the World Cup. When we eventually arrived at the airport, we saw our plane taking off. We had to stay for another two days before there was a flight out. The team leader’s account took another huge knock during those two days, and I know he was very happy to see us off at the airport when we boarded. Our geologist friend taught us well.

Arriving in Johannesburg I handed my Risk and Security assessment report to the old man for him and his investor’s decision. I do not know if the operation continued and if the investors kept on funding the team in Mali.

I had to get ready as I was returning to Afghanistan to continue with my helicopter contract and I could not wait to get back there. I missed the sound of Helicopter blades and the take-off and landing noise off jet fighters, the smell of jet fuel and yes the Russians.