To the Curious and Keen Observer,
As we stand on the brink of a transformative era, one cannot help but reflect on the profound changes unfolding in our economic landscape. Today, we turn our attention to a remarkable creation of human ingenuity: synthetic diamonds. Once relegated to the confines of laboratories, they are now poised to revolutionize our nation’s economy.
China has emerged as a global leader in synthetic diamond production, driven by advanced technology and mass production capabilities. They’ve managed to dominate this sector with large-scale operations, notably producing diamonds via the high-pressure, high-temperature (HPHT) method. The growing prevalence of synthetic diamonds has dramatically impacted the market, making them nearly undetectable from natural diamonds, raising questions about their value.
According to the Rappaport Report, synthetic diamonds have become a major disruptor in the traditional diamond industry. While they share the same physical properties as natural diamonds, Rappaport emphasizes that synthetic stones lack the historical and emotional significance tied to natural diamonds — a process that took hundreds of years deep within the earth. Despite this, some argue that the true value of diamonds lies not in their formation but in the “feeling” we’ve been marketed: one of power, love, and romance. In essence, successful marketing has shaped our perception of a diamond’s worth.
In our land, where diamonds are abundant, I find myself pondering how many among us have truly experienced the splendor of these stones. Our natural diamonds have long been a symbol of conflicts, wars resulting in illegal mining, and political interests which sometimes cause conflicts of interest. There is also a taboo to even hold discussions about beneficiation. These lab-grown wonders bring with them both opportunities and challenges. Will they serve as a beacon for peace, reducing environmental degradation and pollution while leaving room for deep introspection on how best we can leverage our natural endowments? Or might they spark an unforeseen disruption, leading to poverty and an unfunctional society?
The contribution of the diamond sector to Lesotho’s GDP, while significant, has resulted in a concerning overdependence on this single industry. This dependency has stifled the development of other crucial sectors, leading to a narrow economic focus that may not be sustainable in the long run. State-selected individuals benefit from the wealth, yet many are burdened by high taxes and operational expenses. Meanwhile, the workers who extract these diamonds — many of whom endure harsh conditions in the cold, isolated mines — often lack proper medical coverage. In some cases, there are concerns of workers being exposed to high levels of radiation from the machines used to prevent diamond theft, which raises concerns about potential health impacts such as cancer.
In April this year, the Commissioner General of the Revenue Services Lesotho (RSL) stated, “While mining remained in the top 10 contributors to national GDP contributing 5.1 percent by 2023, we had to pay out perpetual refunds to the mining sector because of its constrained performance, which resulted in a loss of revenue during the 2022/23 financial year, affecting income tax collections negatively.” This points to the challenges the mining sector faces in terms of tax contributions, despite being a key economic player.
There is also the troubling reality that Basotho mine these diamonds but rarely get to own. What will become of our economy and environment when the diamonds run out? If the extraction continues unchecked, we risk being left with nothing but environmental degradation and a legacy of missed opportunities. The billions spent on diamond cutting and polishing facilities, mostly located abroad, highlight the stark contrast: Lesotho has failed to invest in its most valuable resource — its people. Had we invested in human capital, we could have developed the skills to not only cut and polish diamonds but also harness the potential of synthetic gems. Instead, we are left reliant on foreign expertise and technology, even as this same technology displaces traditional jobs and threatens long-term sustainability.
The idea of establishing a local diamond processing industry has been voiced by many government officials in the past. During the 2013/2014 budget presentation, the then Minister of Finance, Dr Leketekete Ketso, announced, “As far as diamond mining is concerned, it is critical that the diamonds are processed locally as a means of adding and maximising export value. Towards this end, the Letšeng Mining Company is in the process of establishing a cutting and polishing centre that will contribute significantly to the value addition. It is expected that it will employ about 70 people and process over 2000 carats a month — and this is expected to raise Letšeng mine annual revenue by about 3.5 percent.” Yet, to this day, no such facility has materialized. The mine, in its defense, has pointed fingers at the government for not creating an enabling regulatory environment. This speaks volumes about the gaps in communication and the failure to establish regulations that could drive sustainable development.
Similarly, 2020, the Minister of Mining, Serialong Qoo, stressed the importance of building a Diamond Centre near Moshoeshoe 1 International Airport, an ideal location for such an operation. He highlighted the goal of creating a center for cutting and polishing rough diamonds within the country, in an effort to curb the money lost when diamonds are exported to be processed abroad. Minister Qoo stated, “We are in the process of building a Diamond Centre; the diamonds will be polished here and sold in this country. We always hear about diamonds being taken out of the country to be cut and polished elsewhere, we want all those processes to be performed in this country.” Unfortunately, despite these strong intentions, the project remains in the planning stages, with no tangible results to date. This isn’t merely a failure in governance; it reflects a deep-rooted challenge in how we approach national development.
Recently, a significant development occurred when artisanal mining was officially opened to Basotho. While this offers new opportunities, it also raises concerns about regulation. If left unchecked, there could be an influx of miners, leading to environmental degradation and pollution. The potential for illegal mining within the country is high, particularly at sites like Letšeng, where my fear looms about unregulated activity after the mine’s lease expires. How does the government plan to manage and protect these lands once commercial operations cease? Will we see more internal conflicts over illegal mining, this time within our own borders?
Interestingly, the very same mines pour millions into corporate social responsibility programs aimed at supporting surrounding communities, particularly in the area of agriculture. These initiatives, while intended to reduce the communities’ dependence on the mine’s resources, often struggle with long-term sustainability. One might argue that the issue is not solely financial but also psychological.z
There’s a story I once heard, one that still lingers in my mind. It starts with a mine nestled in a community, where every day the workers had more food than they could eat. Rather than let the excess go to waste, the mine decided to do something generous — they organized transport for the villagers living nearby, bringing them to the mine so they, too, could share in the meals. Day after day, more people came, and still, there was always food left over.
To solve this, a new idea was born. After everyone — workers and villagers alike — had eaten their fill, any remaining food would go to a piggery. Villagers were encouraged to rear pigs, and the mine promised to buy the livestock and even look for external markets to help them grow the business. It seemed like a perfect plan — empowering the community, not just by filling stomachs, but by creating a sustainable business model. Here’s a twist: Instead of embracing the opportunity, the villagers grew dependent on the free food, and the piggery project never truly took off. The business that could have flourished simply faded away. Those who were meant to rear the pigs became, metaphorically, pigs themselves — feeding off the handouts rather than building something greater.
This story, though about pigs, speaks volumes about a deeper issue. It’s not just about the lack of money or resources — it’s about mindset. Time and again, we’ve seen people make short-term decisions that cost them in the long run. And perhaps that’s why we even hear of parents turning a blind eye when their underage daughters are drawn into relationships with mine workers — all for a little extra bread on the table. But that’s a story for another day.
The real question, as we stand here in the shadow of our bicentennial, is: What will we choose to do differently this time? Will we embrace the opportunity to truly introspect and reflect, or will we let it pass by once again? How will we ensure that the opportunities before us lead to lasting change rather than fleeting handouts?
Yours Truly,
Nts’oekhe
Development Advocate
