emelda. a hellraiser.

i want to be a hellraiser.

Excuse me?

A hellraiser.

A hellraiser?

Emelda laughs, glancing at me sideways with a barely noticeable eye roll. She says the word again slowly, annunciating every possible syllable for my benefit. Unlike her, I’m not used to talking over the loud hum of mining equipment.

She raises her voice: Hairdresser. I want to be a hairdresser.

....

That's what she sees herself as, what she wants out of life. But for now, Emelda is an artisanal gold miner in Zimbabwe.

AND THIS IS HER SPACE.

It doesn’t look like a gold mine. It looks like a pile of rocks and dirt, harsh and worthless. But artisanal and small scale miners see a livelihood in this pile. It’s ore: the dirt that bears the gold.