Three days in the dark

Three days without power feels like forever. Tempers flare, WhatsApp groups buzz, and social media fills with demands for answers. I understand, I’ve been just as frustrated at home. But today, instead of speculating from behind a dead plug point, I went to the source: Ermelo’s 88kV substation.

High voltage, high risk

I quickly realised, this isn’t about a tripped switch or incompetent workers. It’s a world of high voltage, danger, and precision, where one wrong setting can knock out the entire grid or worse, cause an explosion.

One of the technicians, a man with 25 years of experience, explained the scale of the work. He and several others have barely slept, but they continue working tirelessly to restore power to the affected areas. He showed me the panels they were busy with, where every small adjustment is a big adjustment.

Inside the substation

What I saw around me told its own story. A section of the ceiling inside the panel room was pitch black, scorched from the last time a panel blew up. Outside, a light fixture had melted, and the paint on a steel door had peeled away from the heat of the flames from the transformer that caught fire when it was struck by lightning the last time.

This was no minor mishap. It was a reminder that the people working here stand within meters of danger. I was also cautioned not to step behind the panels, as only the front was considered a safe space.

At one point, while we were talking, there was a sudden, thunderous bang! as one of the switches tripped.

My heart nearly ran out the door before I did. I have always had the biggest fear of electricity! The technicians, however, didn’t even flinch. They just carried on making configurations.

Spare transformer up, but configuration still requires precision

While at the substation, we were informed that the spare transformer is up and running, but one remaining panel still needed to be configured.

Until those settings are correct, certain areas have to remain off to prevent damage. It’s not because the people are inexperienced or incapable, it’s about safety.

Should the Msukaligwa Local Municipality not have had the spare, this undertaking would have been a much bigger headache, as they claim it would have taken at least three months to get a new transformer.

Understanding the human effort

We often see only the outcome: no power, no explanation. But behind the scenes are people with blackened hands and tired eyes, working through the night in a place still bearing the scars of previous fires and explosions.

Other teams are busy removing the old transformer. Sounds easy, right? Nope. About 19 000 litres of oil need to be drained, and dismantling it requires painstaking effort just to transport it to a location where it will be further assessed, to see if repairs are even an option. Rigorous is an understatement.

This job is not for the faint-hearted. It’s technical, dangerous, and evidently, exhausting.

Yes, the frustration for us all is real. And yes, communication could and should always be a priority. But perhaps, as a community, we also need to recognise that not every delay is born of incompetence. Sometimes, it’s just the harsh reality of how complex and fragile the systems that keep our lights on really are.

I realise that for some, no explanation will ever be enough. It’s easier to complain than to try to understand the complexity of what’s being undertaken.

But after watching these guys work through exhaustion, in the rain and under real risk, it’s clear to me, they are doing everything they can to put your lights back on.