South Africa's Marikana miners return to work Lonmin miners wait in line as they resume work in Marikana after a six-week strike. Photograph: Cynthia Matonhodze/AFP/Getty Images Thousands of miners went back to work at the Marikana mine in South Africa on Thursday, ending a six-week strike in which 46 people died. But continued unrest at nearby mines suggested the crisis is far from over. Shouting "we are reporting for work," the men were in jubilant mood after securing wage rises of up to 22%. Nqukwe Sabulelo, a rock-driller at the mine, told Reuters: "I feel very happy that I can go back to work now. I'm going to live well now. Violence erupted at the Lonmin mine in Marikana last month, resulting in a standoff in which police gunned down 34 protesters, shocking South Africa and the world. Last week a man was beaten to death a woman was fatally injured by a rubber bullet. Industrial action has spread across the mining sector in recent weeks, costing 4.5bn rand (£335m) in lost output, according to President Jacob Zuma. On Thursday, Zuma ordered military forces to assist police trying to control the unrest in Marikana and elsewhere, though around 1,000 soldiers were already deployed last weekend as protets grew. Striking workers from Anglo American Platinum's (Amplats) Rustenburg mine barricaded a street with rocks and burning tyres and logs. A police helicopter hovered overhead and armed officers backed by armoured vehicles and water cannon were on standby in case of fresh violence. Lawrence Mudise, an Amplats rock driller, held up a sign demanding 16,700 rand in monthly pay. "We'll buy 20 litres of petrol and if police get violent, we'll make petrol bombs and throw them at them," he told Reuters. Another miner, who did not wish to be named, added: "We'll not go to work until we get what we want. Our kids have been shot at, our families have been terrorised and brutalised, but we are not going back to work. Amplats, the world's biggest platinum producer, reopened its mines on Tuesday after they were closed last week. It is threatening legal action if the wildcat strikers do not return to work. The company warned that disruptions posed a threat to the mine's future. " (The) operations are already under considerable economic pressure," it said. Any further delays in returning to work will only increase the risk to the long-term viability of these mines. On Wednesday police fired teargas and stun grenades to disperse a crowd of men carrying spears and machetes in a squatter camp near the site. Meanwhile some 15,000 miners at the KDC West operation of Gold Fields, the world's fourth largest bullion producer, are holding an illegal strike. The workers in Carletonville are disgruntled with the local leadership of the dominant National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) but their stance has been given fresh impetus by the Lonmin settlement. Zwelizima Vavi, general-secretary of the Congress of South African Trade Unions, raced to the scene on Wednesday with senior NUM leaders, saying they had to prevent "another Marikana" after mine management obtained legal grounds to fire the workers. Gold Fields said this week it would not entertain demands for a minimum wage of 12,500 rand despite losing 1,400 ounces a day - close to 15% of group production. Amid weeks of soul-searching and introspection in South Africa, former NUM leader turned millionaire tycoon Cyril Ramaphosa, a non-executive director of Lonmin, has come to symbolise unease about the gap between a new black elite and the poverty-stricken majority. On Thursday Ramaphosa, a senior figure in the governing African National Congress, apologised for bidding millions of rand on a buffalo cow and her calf. "Yes, I did put a bid and that was a mistake on my part," he told SAfm radio. It was a mistake. I regret it. It was a mistake to even put up my hand to do so. I've been chastised by some of my good comrades, and even before they chastised me, I did admit that was a mistake. I regret it because it is an excessive price in the sea of poverty. I belong to a community and it was one of those moments when I was blind-sighted.