Candlelight vigil in Kimberley as families wait for news on trapped Ekapa miners

AS DARKNESS settled over Kimberley on Thursday evening, it was not only the sun that disappeared behind the horizon. Hope flickered unsteadily, much like the candles held in trembling hands outside the gates at Ekapa Minerals’ Joint Shaft’.

Earlier in the afternoon, the mine had indicated that a press statement would be released at around 5pm. Journalists, including the DFA, gathered outside the gates, waiting for clarity, for direction, for something to carry back to anxious families and a worried community.

But as time stretched on, anticipation turned into frustration. At 6.45pm, a message finally came. There would be no comment. The statement would only be released on Friday.

For the families of the trapped miners, the silence was louder than words could have been.

While management remained behind closed doors, the people of Cassandra and surrounding areas came together in the open air. Mothers, wives, fathers, children, friends and neighbours stood shoulder to shoulder at a candlelight vigil outside the mine. No formal invitations were needed. Pain had already invited them.

The emotions were written plainly on their faces. Fear. Exhaustion. Anger. A desperate longing for news. The absence of information hung heavily, almost visible in the cool evening air. It was the kind of silence that presses against the chest and makes breathing feel heavier.

Wimpie Geyer from Alpha Beta Cycles stepped forward to lead the vigil in prayer. His voice carried across the gathering, steady but thick with emotion. He prayed for comfort for every family navigating the unbearable uncertainty. He prayed for hope where despair threatened to take root. He prayed for miracles. He prayed that the Lord would hold each loved one close through the longest nights.

As his prayers rose upward, tears fell freely. Faces glistened in the candlelight. Hands reached for one another, strangers clasping strangers, united by a shared ache. In that moment, titles and backgrounds did not matter. They were simply people waiting for their loved ones to come home.

Inside the mine, some workers only learned later that the vigil had taken place. Through messages, anger and disappointment surfaced.

“If we were told about the vigil, we would have been there also for our friends and family. I cannot believe nobody informed us,” one person said.

The feeling of being left out, of not being included in a moment of collective grief and solidarity, added another layer to an already painful situation.

As the candles burned lower and the night grew colder, families began to disperse. They returned to homes filled with silence and unanswered questions. They will lie in beds that feel far too large tonight – on one side, an emptiness where a partner or husband should be.

And in some homes, mothers will face the hardest questions of all. Small voices will ask where Daddy is. Why is he not home? When is he coming back? And in the absence of answers, they will have to create gentle explanations to shield young hearts from a reality too heavy for them to carry.

Tonight, Ekapa Minerals failed Kimberley. They failed every family member who longed for an answer. A sad day indeed in the Diamond City.

Outside the gates of Ekapa Minerals, the candles have been extinguished for now. But the waiting continues. So do the prayers.

Priscilla Damon, whose husband Connwille Damon, 42, is among the five trapped mineworkers, speaks from the heart during Thursday night’s candlelight vigil outside Ekapa Minerals in Kimberley. 

Video: Danie van der Lith / DFA

Wimpie Geyer stepped forward to lead the vigil in prayer.

Video: Danie van der Lith / DFA