This week, Namibia made international headlines as President Netumbo Nandi-Ndaitwah announced that, starting in 2026, all tertiary education at state-run universities and vocational training centres will be fully subsidised by the government. This historic policy is not just a win for Namibian students, it is a challenge to neighbouring countries like Lesotho to reflect on the sustainability, equity, and vision of their own higher education systems.
Lesotho’s Current Model
In Lesotho, the National Manpower Development Secretariat (NMDS) serves as the primary financier for tertiary education. However, the system is under immense strain. A 2015 World Bank report revealed that only about 4% of NMDS loans are recovered annually, effectively rendering the scheme a de facto grant system. This low repayment rate undermines the sustainability of the fund, limiting opportunities for new students and placing additional pressure on the national budget.
The Vicious Cycle of Debt and Unemployment
The repayment challenges are exacerbated by high youth unemployment. According to Finance Minister Dr. Retsélisitsoe Matlanyane in her budget speech, findings from the 2024 Labour Force Survey reveal that out of 760,230 young Basotho aged 15 to 35, approximately 145,087 are unemployed. Nearly 39% of youth actively searching for jobs struggle to find employment. The overall youth unemployment rate stands at 38.9%, with young women facing greater difficulties at 40.8%, compared to 37.1% for young men. Additionally, only 31.48% of young people are either employed or actively seeking work. A significant number have lost hope, with over 226,857 no longer searching for employment. This economic reality makes it difficult for graduates to repay their NMDS loans, further straining the fund and limiting access for future students.
Quality Education: Bridging the Gap
While Lesotho has made strides in increasing access to education, quality remains a significant concern. The introduction of free primary education in 2010 led to higher enrollment rates. However, disparities between public and private schools persist, with private institutions often offering superior resources and outcomes. Does free always mean quality? If it were, I believe the same people who introduced free education would be taking their kids to the very ‘free’ schools.
Recently, the Ministry of Education has initiated efforts to integrate artificial intelligence (AI) into the curriculum. However, the success of such initiatives hinges on the preparedness of educators. Are the present teachers relevant? How often do they upgrade their studies? I believe it is high time it becomes mandatory for teachers to upgrade while temporarily being substituted by those with necessary skills.
Building the Foundation for Economic Sustainability
Investing in early childhood education (ECE) is crucial for Lesotho’s long-term economic development and human capital formation. On a lighter note, recognising this, Lesotho has partnered with organisations like UNICEF and the Global Partnership for Education to enhance ECE through initiatives such as the “Better Early Learning and Development at Scale” (BELDS) program.
Early Retirement As Pathway to Youth Employment
Another strategy to combat youth unemployment can be the implementation of early retirement policies. By encouraging older employees to retire earlier, opportunities can be created for younger individuals entering the workforce. This also making right by the education system, with teachers having relevant, necessary skills.
The Government of Lesotho’s Public Service Reform report suggests that reducing the retirement age to 50 could be a component of a holistic youth employment policy, although political will in implementation becomes a challenge.
Namibia’s bold step should serve as a wake-up call for Lesotho. Ensuring equitable access to higher education is not just a matter of social justice-it is an economic imperative. By rethinking its higher education financing model, investing in teacher training, and implementing policies to boost youth employment, Lesotho can build a more sustainable and inclusive future.
Dear Reader,
For decades, Lesotho has occupied a quiet yet essential place in the global fashion supply chain. In industrial zones across the country, thousands of workers—primarily women—have produced garments for global brands such as Levi’s, Jean Wears, Calvin Klein, and Walmart. These clothes, stitched in Lesotho’s factories to internationally accepted standards, are shipped abroad, rebranded, and then reintroduced into the local market as premium products.
Despite their origin, many Basotho consumers continue to attach higher value to imported labels, often overlooking local equivalents—even when the difference is only the name on the tag. This suggests the issue is not rooted in production capacity or quality, but rather in perception and psychological conditioning.
Lesotho has already demonstrated the technical ability to meet global expectations. The infrastructure exists. The workforce is skilled. The international demand is present. But domestically, the narrative still leans toward foreign validation. Garments made in Lesotho are rarely worn with pride unless first endorsed elsewhere.
This has resulted in a curious paradox: exporting quality while importing prestige. The transformation of a product’s perceived value lies not in its making but in its marketing—something Lesotho has yet to master at home. A Levi’s tag confers confidence; a local tag often does not. The problem, therefore, is not lack of production—it is lack of belief.
Recent developments in global trade highlight this internal contradiction. Earlier this month, Minister of Trade Mokhethi Shelile addressed the significant tariff disparity between Lesotho and the United States. While Lesotho imposes tariffs of up to 99% on U.S. imports, it faces a 50% tariff from the U.S.—the highest among countries affected by the new policy. This is in the context of a deeply lopsided trade relationship: Lesotho exports goods worth M4.7 billion to the U.S., but receives only M56 million in imports.
These heavy tariffs, while economically constraining, may serve an unintended but valuable purpose. They should be seen not only as penalties but also as necessary mind openers. They force a confrontation with the long-standing dependency on foreign markets and labels. They call into question why local consumers and producers continue to seek affirmation from outside, despite already meeting international standards.
Within the textile industry, the imbalance extends beyond trade. Only 40% of the work done in Lesotho’s factories is attributed to Basotho workers. The remaining 60%—which includes design, fabric sourcing, and value addition—belongs largely to external entities. Much of the industry’s USD 240 million in export value ultimately flows out of the country. One foreign firm reportedly shipped 40 containers daily, a telling indicator of who benefits most from Lesotho’s industrial output.
On the continental stage, the opportunity remains underutilized. WTO Director-General Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala recently pointed out that Africa spends $7 billion a year on textile imports, yet countries like Lesotho, which already produce these goods, are missing from the equation. Despite exporting over $1.14 billion in 2023—led by diamonds and garments—Lesotho has not fully tapped into African markets.
According to the Observatory of Economic Complexity (OEC), Lesotho’s exports have grown by $127 million since 2018. South Africa, Belgium, the United States, the UAE, and India are the top destinations. Still, the country’s presence in regional trade, particularly in textiles, remains muted.
This gap between potential and recognition is not a matter of policy alone. It is psychological. The inability to perceive local products as equal in value to imported ones reflects a deeper issue about identity, self-worth, and economic independence. Until this mindset shifts, Lesotho may continue to export craftsmanship and import confidence.
Tariffs may sting in the short term, but they expose a longer-standing discomfort with self-reliance. They are an invitation—not to retreat—but to reflect. Perhaps Lesotho’s most significant economic challenge is not what it lacks, but what it refuses to see in itself.
To the keen and observant observer,
Today, I write as we all witness the trending uproar over former U.S. President Donald Trump stating that he has never heard of Lesotho. While many Basotho seem to take offense, I find the situation rather amusing.
Vele, what is our country known for? What unique value do we bring to the world? What is our competitive advantage? If anything, this should serve as a moment of deep reflection rather than blind outrage. Instead of reacting emotionally, perhaps we should ask: Why doesn’t the world, let alone a global leader, recognize Lesotho?
This situation reveals uncomfortable truths about our nation. What do we have to showcase on the global stage besides being a landlocked kingdom dependent on external aid? Is it our textile industry, which barely competes with global markets? Is it our diamonds, whose value benefits only a handful? Is it our tourism, which remains untapped despite breathtaking landscapes? The reality is, we have work to do.
But my interest is this: What happened to the bold statements that “Lesotho can never conform to LGBTQI+ ideals as a Christian country”? We sit in judgment of our neighboring nations, yet the same Western forces we praise for donations are the ones funding LGBTQI+ programs within our borders. We cannot have it both ways.
Just last week, a local newspaper reported that a Lesotho MP was allegedly offered USD 1,300 to vote in favor of a transgender rights law. Such headlines barely cause a ripple in our collective consciousness anymore. Transparency and accountability? Those are concepts we will only see in heaven! Even our so-called cultural “norms” are applied selectively—moralizing in public while engaging in the very acts we condemn behind closed doors.
Let’s also consider the American taxpayer, whose hard-earned money funds small, struggling economies like ours. How fair is it that we remain dependent on foreign aid, year after year, without a concrete plan for self-sufficiency? At what point does Lesotho wean itself off international handouts and stand on its own?
Now that the spotlight is briefly on us, what do we have to offer? Instead of lamenting Trump’s ignorance, perhaps we should capitalize on the unexpected free marketing from such a globally influential figure. This is our chance to tell our story, showcase our strengths, and redefine our identity beyond just being another struggling African nation.
Rather than outrage, let us use this moment as motivation. If we truly want Lesotho to be known, we must work toward making it worth knowing.
Nts’oekhe
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
To the Curious and Keen Observer,
As I welcome you to the first publication of our column, we find ourselves witnessing Lesotho’s transformation. Yet, an undeniable question lingers: how has foreign influence shaped our landscape, and at what cost? Foreign nationals are not only constructing buildings or maintaining infrastructure; they’re claiming ownership of our land, building commercial hubs and rental properties that yield substantial profits—profits that often benefit them more than the people of Lesotho. For Basotho, this trend threatens the very future of our urban spaces and leaves us wondering who will ultimately own our cities.
The path leading here is partly of our own making. Our laws around citizenship have become permissive, making it easier for non-citizens to obtain Lesotho citizenship and, with it, the rights to land acquisition. This, coupled with the temptation of quick financial gain, has led many to sell their land, forgetting the long-term consequences that could reshape Lesotho’s property landscape beyond recognition.
Yet, a brighter future is still within reach. The upcoming financial budget offers a golden opportunity to address this issue. Imagine a budget that emphasizes housing policies favoring Basotho, encouraging ownership and development initiatives tailored for locals. If government action isn’t enough, then let the power of a united community lead the charge. Together, we can create a Basotho-led real estate initiative, reclaiming urban spaces for Basotho ownership and ensuring a legacy for our youth.
Encouragingly, there are examples of local success stories that shine light on what’s possible. The Alliance in Mohale’s Hoek is one such initiative, where Basotho ventures have joined forces to purchase and develop properties, showing us the strength of community action.
We need only look across our border for further inspiration. In Botswana, the Botswana Housing Corporation (BHC) secures land and allocates around 44% of its rentals to government, striking a balance between public and private interests. Their Youth Housing Units, with 636 affordable units tailored for young citizens, also underscore the critical need to prioritize youth housing—a step we too must take, especially given the youth-driven future of our nation.
The time is ripe to turn our focus inward, investing in Basotho ownership within our urban centers and housing markets. Together, we can commit to a Lesotho where land, homes, and economic growth primarily serve Basotho interests. This vision aligns with Sustainable Development Goal 11-Sustainable Cities and Communities, which calls for inclusive, safe, and sustainable urban development. It also reflects the United Nations Declaration on Human Settlements, which emphasizes the right to adequate housing and fair access to land and urban resources. By grounding our growth in these principles, we can create a future where urban development truly benefits all Basotho.
Yours Truly,
Nts’oekhe