'They treat us like slaves': What polishing Botswana’s diamond means for women
What you need to know:
- In Botswana's diamond polishing industry, thousands of women workers face harsh conditions despite the country's reputation for ethical gems.
- Workers like Gofaone endure health hazards from diamond dust, exposure to dangerous chemicals without proper protection, and inadequate wages that keep them in poverty.
- Multiple women reported sexual harassment and assault at various factories.
- The industry's current downturn threatens to worsen conditions for these women, many of whom are single mothers supporting extended families.
As Gofaone sat behind a polishing wheel for the first time, she wasn’t just bursting with happiness; she felt important. Not everyone in Botswana gets the chance to see a diamond with their own eyes, she thought. She looked at this delicate, expensive thing, almost as old as the Earth itself, and saw a lifeline.
At 25, she felt she’d made it. Now 37, she is filled with regret.
After more than a decade spent cutting and polishing diamonds, Gofaone, a single mother, has little to show for her time and skills. She has no savings; Gofaone and her eight-year-old son share a rented home with a fellow polisher because neither of the women can afford to live alone. She endures chronic back pain, which she believes was caused by the work, and has been targeted for joining a union.
“[I feel] so sad,” she said. “Looking back, I feel like I’ve wasted my years.”
Gofaone, who asked to be identified only by her middle name out of fear of repercussions, is among thousands of mostly female workers employed in Botswana’s polishing factories. They work for companies known as “sightholders,” trusted partners hand-selected by global giant De Beers. To keep receiving rough diamonds from De Beers, the sightholders must adhere to its standards, put in place to ensure human rights and labour regulations are met. De Beers describes these as the strictest the industry has seen.
Yet in interviews with more than two dozen current and former employees across multiple factories, The Fuller Project and New Lines documented numerous violations of these standards. Workers are often hired on precarious short-term contracts with few rights or benefits, and, like Gofaone, threatened or punished for unionising. Some women said the fine dust particles from diamond polishing cause coughing and sickness, while others handle corrosive chemicals with their bare hands. Many described wiping black dust off their faces at the end of shifts and a workplace infested with rats. One reported being repeatedly sexually assaulted, and others said they were sexually harassed.
“They treat us like slaves,” said one woman who worked for Sheetal Cutting Works, a company headquartered in India, until last year. “They don’t care about our lives.”
“We have serious issues in this sector,” said Letang Rakwadi, a labour relations officer at the Botswana Diamond Workers Union (BDWU). “It’s the same thing … every day, every year.”
Nearly all workers interviewed asked to remain anonymous because of security or job concerns. During the Covid-19 crisis, shoppers stuck at home splurged on luxury purchases—like diamonds. But since then, demand has fallen, as consumers hit by inflation are spending less. Diamond prices have also dropped, and lab-grown gems are becoming cheaper and more popular.
Fifty-plus years ago, De Beers and the government of Botswana formed a lucrative partnership to run the country’s diamond mines, known as Debswana. Yet today, De Beers is reeling from its worst slump in sales in more than two decades. And as owner Anglo-American prepares to sell the “world’s most important” diamond company, its future looks uncertain, leaving sightholders equally worried about theirs.
Although workers in the polishing sector technically earn above the minimum wage, it’s far from what is needed for a decent life, the women said. Botswana might be considered an upper-middle-income country, largely thanks to the diamond trade, but it’s also one of the most unequal.
And while media outlets around the world regularly report on issues in India’s polishing sector, including mistreated workers committing suicide, rights groups say that Botswana receives little scrutiny, leaving violations to fester in a country known for its so-called ethical gems.
“If you ask somebody to tell a positive story about diamonds, the first thing they will always say is Botswana,” said Hans Merket from the International Peace Information Service, a research institute based in Belgium. “It’s still often seen as this ‘good pupil’ in the class, and this has led to limited attention to its problems with transparency, corruption issues and so on.”
A De Beers Group spokesperson, in emailed comments, said the company takes the allegations relating to sightholder businesses in Botswana “extremely seriously” and is carrying out “active measures” to review them. Independent audits are conducted to ensure compliance with their standards, the spokesperson added. The government of Botswana did not respond to multiple requests for comment.
Polishing diamonds can be messy work. Back in the 1980s, when Antwerp in Belgium was the undisputed capital of the world’s diamond trade, workers dealt with what one described as the “black nose blower” problem. As they breathed in the carbon dust produced during the manufacturing process, their airways clogged with dirt. People fell sick. Under pressure from unions, and as technology improved, machines were gradually introduced that sucked the dust directly from the polishing wheel, or scaife.
Although the suction systems aren’t perfect, the air is clean enough to ensure that masks aren’t a protective clothing requirement inside Antwerp’s factories—just goggles. These days, it’s known that “diamond dust” can be harmful to workers’ health, said Annelies Deman, federal secretary of the General Labour Federation of Belgium, one of the country’s unions. As suction technology is now commonplace, there is scant new research into just how harmful the dust is, but one study from the early 1990s showed it reduced the lung volume of teenage polishers in India.
“We want to avoid that,” Deman said. “That is not the way people want to work in Belgium.”
In Botswana, some have little choice. Although most of the rough stones mined in the country are shipped to manufacturing hubs like Surat in India, the first sightholder factory opened in Botswana in 2003 as a way to support the country’s economy and provide jobs.
Today, roughly 3,500 workers, the majority of whom are women, are employed across 33 sightholders, according to Rakwadi.
At Sheetal, black dust lined the factory ceiling and walls, according to multiple former employees, including Gofaone, who worked there until last year. There was no suction whatsoever, they alleged. When Gofaone enquired about it, she was told by management that the air conditioning was “doing the magic” and removing the dust.
Their bosses provided surgical masks, but they were too thin and flimsy to be of any use, the women said. Several described wiping their faces or noses at the end of the day and throwing away black tissues. They were sick with flu, coughs, allergies and rashes.
In an email, Molatedi Tuwane, Sheetal’s human resources manager, said there has been suction in the factory since it opened in 2022. He said labour inspections from last year stated that the factory features an “exhaust system” to reduce workers’ exposure to “airborne contaminants” such as mist, fumes, vapour and gas, which are captured “at source”. When asked to explain workers’ claims regarding dust and a lack of suction, including from one employee who left just a few months ago, Tuwane did not respond.
He added that management provides surgical masks and there have been no recorded incidents or complaints about diamond dust. Sheetal is “well aware” of the importance of supporting employees’ health, providing pre-employment and annual medical check-ups for staff.
Star Rays Diamonds Botswana, another Indian-headquartered company, was rife with rats, according to six current and former employees. “Rats were everywhere,” said one woman who left last year. “It was not OK at all.”
The factory often smelled of rat urine and excrement, she said. She described co-workers picking droppings, human hair and plastic out of their company-provided lunch of rice and vegetables. Another former employee sent The Fuller Project a video of an insect crawling across her lunch last year. “Every day someone finds something inside that food,” she said.
Like at Sheetal, workers also described dust lining the walls and wiping their faces only to be left with black tissues. “The dust is dangerous to our health,” said one.
Women said they reported their issues to management but nothing changed. In an email, a spokesperson for Star Rays Diamonds Botswana said that workers’ well-being, hygiene and safety are a “top priority,” that masks and extraction systems are provided for employees, and that the company has not received any complaints about dust internally. Star Rays claims to demand the “highest hygiene standards” from the external company that provides its catering. The company acknowledges that rats have been “an issue” in the area but said it has been “broadly successful” in managing the problem in the factory.
The issues alleged across the factories violate De Beers’ standards, which are laid out in their Best Practice Principles (BPP), a mandatory business conduct code that applies to all De Beers operations and sightholders. They state there should be “extraction or appropriate ventilation of dust” to minimise exposure to airborne particles and a working environment with “acceptable conditions” regarding cleanliness.
When Botswana gained independence from Britain in 1966, it was one of the world’s poorest countries, with little infrastructure and few paved roads. A year later, De Beers geologists stumbled on diamonds and mining revenues began pouring in. Today, many of the country’s 2.6 million people have access to free health care and education, and wide roads zigzag across one of the richest nations in Africa.
In the 1960s, Botswana mostly sold beef. Diamonds now account for over 90% of total exports and one-quarter of gross domestic product. Hailed as an African success story by the United Nations, the country is famous for swerving the corruption and conflict that ravaged its equally mineral-rich neighbours of Angola and Congo, and now produces more diamonds than any country in the world except Russia.
Yet openly criticising the industry often makes people uneasy. Diamonds have been a welcome lifeline here, and their glittering fingerprints can be felt across Gaborone, the capital. You feel it in the smooth roads, hear it in the shouts emanating from the Debswana-funded soccer pitch. Dare say anything against this success story and citizens risk not just tarnishing the image of the country’s most important commodity but being branded unpatriotic, too.
“You see the catch-22?” said one union worker.
This might explain why issues inside the country’s polishing factories have not been dealt with adequately. From his office in Gaborone, Rakwadi flicks through thick folders, handing over copies of letters his union sent to the Botswana government as far back as 2011 regarding human rights violations and poor health and safety conditions. He’s described the industry as “rotten” to its core.
At Dharm Cutting Works, another sightholder in Gaborone, at least eight current and former staff have accused the company’s general manager, Kunal Shah, of sexual harassment and assault.
“He’s feared by everyone,” said one.
Shah tried to undress them in the factory toilets and touch their breasts, some said. He ordered female factory staff to clean his home and, once in private, forcibly kissed them and smacked their buttocks, others added.
One woman alleged that Shah repeatedly sexually assaulted her in his home. Her voice sounded distant, almost empty, as she described being turned over one day last summer, her torso resting on the armrest of his couch. “Eventually he pulls out,” she said. “I’m shaking. I can’t fathom what just happened. And afterwards … he goes, ‘Don’t overthink it.’”
She is hesitant to use the word rape but describes feeling too scared to say no to his requests. This was her first job, after all. As her mind unravelled, she turned to alcohol and started self-harming. “I was spiralling,” she said. “I was becoming something else.”
She is one of several workers who reported Shah to the labour department earlier this year over rape, assault and harassment allegations, along with non-payment of bonuses stretching back months. In May, government labour inspectors interviewed nine current and former Dharm workers in Botswana and concluded there was a “clear case of sexual harassment” in a report from July viewed by The Fuller Project.
During this period, women felt that little changed and took the case to the police. In an email, Mayank Sakadasariya, Dharm’s interim general manager, said Shah was “immediately” suspended after the company received formal complaints about his behaviour.
Shah’s suspension happened in August, roughly four months after the government began their investigation based on workers’ complaints and one day before a newspaper in Botswana published the allegations.
The company has said it is now conducting an independent investigation into the allegations and will “thoroughly” address all concerns. Sakadasariya understands that the government revoked Shah’s visa and he was instructed to leave the country, though his current whereabouts are unknown.
Shah could not be reached, and the police did not respond to multiple requests for comment. The De Beers Group spokesperson said that after recently becoming aware of the allegations at Dharm, they “immediately” sought further information and “activated the appropriate BPP governance mechanisms”. They “continue to closely monitor the situation”.
Dharm was the only sightholder where workers made allegations of sexual assault and harassment. Yet staff there also expressed concerns about health and safety regulations, in line with complaints at other sightholders.
Some use highly corrosive chemicals, including nitric and sulphuric acid, to remove impurities from the diamonds, a process known as “boiling”. Because exposure can cause irritation to the eyes and skin, severe skin burns, or difficulty breathing if inhaled, appropriate protective equipment is recommended, according to the US Centres for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).
“We are not given anything to protect ourselves,” said one current employee at Dharm who directly handles these acids. “It’s very, very, very bad.”
Although the boiling process previously took place in a closed room, faulty vents pushed fumes into a neighbouring company’s office, according to the employee. After the company complained to Dharm, this year management moved the boiling process to an open space next to the workers’ lunch area.
“I make sure that I close the entrances to the factory, but the fumes find a way to get inside. You hear everyone coughing inside. … So you can just imagine me, who’s outside doing the actual boiling.”
After a labour inspection last year, a report viewed by The Fuller Project showed that the government advised Dharm to provide workers with masks to protect them from the dust and material safety data sheets for the chemicals they are using. Over a year later, several of the women said they are still waiting for masks. Regarding the chemicals, the government wrote that the factory’s management described them as “low strength” and made no explicit protective clothing recommendations.
Yet during government inspections, management has told staff to hide the fact that boiling takes place inside the factory, according to one worker directly involved in the process. “The day when inspectors came, we would lock the boiling room and hide the keys,” they said, adding that Dharm only mentioned using less harmful chemicals, such as acetone (for which the CDC still advises preventing skin and eye contact).
As recently as April this year, one employee who handles acetone said the human resources manager rushed into the office and told her to say that she wears gloves, masks and goggles. He thought the company was being audited. “And I’m sitting there like, I don’t wear such a thing,” she said. “This is scary. … Everything about them is for show.”
Again, this violates De Beers’ own standards, which state that chemical fumes need to be extracted and neutralised. In response to these allegations, Sakadasariya, Dharm’s interim general manager, said the company complies with “all” local labour and safety regulations.
“You could literally be dying a slow death,” added the woman. “And you wouldn’t even know.”
Buying gems from a country such as Botswana can buy one a clean conscience, claimed a 2015 Time magazine investigation into blood diamonds. In an industry historically beset by violence, smuggling and child labour problems, the country is known for its ethical diamonds. It’s even got the royal stamp of approval, with a Botswana-sourced crystal adorning Meghan Markle’s engagement ring from Prince Harry.
Yet behind the glittering exterior, it’s also one of the most unequal places, according to the World Bank, with high rates of poverty and unemployment. Over half of all people in Botswana experienced moderate to severe food insecurity in the period from 2021 to 2022. Debswana is the largest private sector employer, but outside of mining, there are so few jobs that economists pick up shifts driving taxis to make ends meet, according to a 2016 report by the African Network of Centres for Investigative Reporting and other nongovernmental organisations.
For years, low wages have pushed polishers into poverty, said Rakwadi, the BDWU union official. Their salaries cover food and rent but often little else. Many of the women are single mothers and often the main breadwinners, supporting extended families. Although companies boost employees’ wages with “incentives,” monthly extras to cover the cost of transport or reward punctuality, these are optional and were sometimes stopped or simply not paid, the women said.
Some of the lowest wages documented were at Dalumi, a global company with manufacturing facilities in Botswana. Several current and former polishers with more than 10 years in the industry earned a monthly base salary of between 1,900 and 2,500 pula (roughly $140-$190). The recommended living wage in Gaborone is 8,119 pula, according to The WageIndicator Foundation, a global nonprofit organisation. Yet for many, it’s this or nothing.
“This company is going to kill us,” said one Dalumi employee, referring to the toll of low wages on workers’ physical and mental health.
In an email, Meir Dalumi, the company’s managing director, said that it works with the union to deal with employees’ issues in “good faith” and that the majority of them are “happy” and “love” the working environment.
Women dream of building thir own homes, yet to access loans, banks in Botswana typically require a permanent contract—something most of the women interviewed did not have. Much like in the global garment sector, sightholder companies increasingly employ staff on temporary contracts, often for one year, said Rakwadi. He said this also makes it easier for companies to dismiss workers or target trade union members—a trend he’s watched play out across the sector.
At Sheetal, at least six former employees said their one-year contracts were not renewed or that they faced intimidation after engaging in union activity. All were members of the BDWU.
One former employee said that after she joined the union in December 2022, a manager advised her to withdraw because the bosses had “targeted” all members. “So I asked him what that means, [and] he said, ‘Obviously they are going to fire you. There is no choice.’ It didn’t take long.”
When her contract was up for renewal six months later, she found herself out of a job. “We were standing up for ourselves,” said Gofaone, who also believes she was targeted. “We didn’t want oppression.”
Union busting violates Botswana’s labour laws and De Beers’ employment standards, which state that employers should “respect the right to freedom of association or collective bargaining” and that workers who do join a union should not be subjected to “any form of harassment, discrimination or discipline.”
There has always been freedom of association at Sheetal, said Tuwane, the human resources manager. No employees have been targeted or punished for being part of a union and the only rationale for terminating employment has been the expiry of fixed-term contracts or misconduct, he added.
“Diamond polishing in Botswana is terribly disempowering for women,” said Todd Majaye, who worked for Debswana in the 2000s and is now managing director at Afrimond, a consultancy based in Botswana and South Africa. “They are virtually disposable items.”
As the industry continues to battle a savage downturn, sightholders are also struggling. Several Dalumi employees lost their jobs in August, with the company citing the market situation, while Dharm’s management warned in letters seen by The Fuller Project they will need to do the same.
Where this leaves the workers isn’t clear. Some simply want permanent contracts and salaries they can survive on. A standard wage across all De Beers sightholders would help, said the union, though that looks unlikely.
“We want our government to fight for us,” said one former Sheetal employee. “We need people who can listen.”
Gofaone is tired of diamonds. Now, every morning from Monday to Saturday, she prepares an assortment of food—rice, salad, madombi (a type of dumpling)—and stands outside her local hair salon to catch the lunchtime trade. It’s not easy. Last month, she wasn’t able to pay her rent of 1,100 pula ($82).
But she’s determined to make something of herself. And people need to eat, she thinks. After 12 years, it feels like a safer bet than a gem that only disappoints.
This article is published in partnership with The Fuller Project and New Lines Magazine.