Mohahlaula Airlines
Wednesday, July 22, 2026
Home Blog Page 16

The Kingdom in the Sky is exporting its water and importing its hunger

Editorial: Irrigation & Water Scarcity — Lesotho Tribune
Lesotho Tribune
Opinion
Agriculture & Environment
Opinion
The editorial position of the Lesotho Tribune
Opinion · Agriculture & Water

Lesotho sits atop some of the most abundant highland water in southern Africa, yet its smallholder farmers watch their crops wither through dry seasons that grow longer every decade. That contradiction is not fate. It is a policy failure, and it is entirely correctable.

Lesotho is called the Kingdom in the Sky, and the name carries a certain agricultural irony. The country exports vast quantities of water to South Africa through the Lesotho Highlands Water Project, a scheme that has generated billions in royalties and transformed the Vaal system into a reliable resource for Gauteng’s industry and households. Meanwhile, a smallholder farmer in Mohale’s Hoek watches the same highland rains run off eroded hillsides, carrying topsoil into silted rivers, and waits for the next season’s maize to tell her whether her family will eat adequately or not. The water was always here. The infrastructure to keep it and use it was not built for her.

This is the central failure of Lesotho’s agricultural water policy, and it has persisted across governments, development programmes, and donor cycles with a consistency that amounts to institutional neglect. Lesotho receives an annual average rainfall of approximately 700 millimetres, with the highlands receiving considerably more. That figure is not generous by tropical standards, but it is sufficient for productive rain-fed agriculture if soils are managed correctly and supplementary irrigation is available to bridge the dry spells that now arrive with greater frequency and severity as climate patterns shift. The problem is not the quantity of rainfall. The problem is that almost none of it is captured, stored, or channelled in ways that serve the farming communities who need it most.

The water was always here. The infrastructure to keep it and use it was not built for her.

The numbers are stark. Irrigated agriculture accounts for less than three percent of Lesotho’s cultivated land. In a country where more than seventy percent of the population depends on subsistence or smallholder farming for some part of its livelihood, that figure represents a structural vulnerability of the first order. Every season without reliable water access is a season in which a household’s food security depends entirely on the timing and distribution of rainfall that is becoming less predictable by the year. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change projections for southern Africa indicate a trend toward more intense but shorter rainfall events, longer inter-seasonal dry periods, and greater variability in onset dates. For a farmer planning a planting schedule, that is not an abstraction. It is the difference between a harvest and a loss.

The Government of Lesotho has not been entirely passive. The Smallholder Agriculture Development Project, supported by the International Fund for Agricultural Development, has constructed small earth dams and promoted conservation agriculture techniques in several districts. The Lowlands Water Development Project has extended piped water to communities that previously had none. These are genuine achievements and the officials and communities involved in them deserve recognition. But they remain islands of intervention in a landscape of unaddressed need. The scale of investment in smallholder irrigation infrastructure remains a fraction of what the sector requires, and the institutional capacity to maintain what has been built is chronically underfunded.

Lesotho exports water to South Africa at scale and imports food it could grow itself. That equation will not change until water policy is reoriented to serve the farmer in the field, not the pipe in the ground.

Seipati Matobo

The deeper policy failure lies in the disconnect between water governance and agricultural planning. The Lesotho Highlands Water Project is administered as an infrastructure and revenue instrument. The Ministry of Agriculture and Food Security plans planting seasons and extension services. The Water and Sewerage Company manages urban supply. These institutions do not operate in coordinated fashion around a shared objective of food security. The result is that Lesotho has sophisticated water management capability deployed entirely in the service of export and urban supply, while the smallholder farmer who could benefit most from even modest water storage infrastructure at the village or catchment level remains outside the system’s ambitions.

This must change, and it must change with the recognition that the required investment is not beyond reach. Small-scale weirs, run-of-river diversions, hillside water harvesting structures, and rehabilitated wetlands, called wetlands in Sesotho as metsi-maholo, can meaningfully extend the productive season for thousands of farming households at a cost per beneficiary that compares favourably with any social protection programme the government currently runs. The technology is not experimental. It has been demonstrated in comparable highland environments across East Africa, in Ethiopia’s Tigray region and in Rwanda’s terraced hillsides, with measurable improvements in yield stability and household food security. Lesotho does not need to invent a new approach. It needs the political will to fund and implement one that is already proven.

Lesotho does not need to invent a new approach to water harvesting. It needs the political will to fund and implement one that is already proven.

There is also a land tenure dimension that is too often omitted from irrigation policy discussions. A farmer who does not have secure tenure over the land she cultivates will not invest in permanent water infrastructure on that land. The periodic reallocation of agricultural fields under customary tenure arrangements, however well-intentioned as a mechanism of equity, systematically discourages the long-term investment in soil and water management that productive farming requires. Any serious irrigation expansion programme must be accompanied by reforms that give smallholder farmers, and in particular women farmers who constitute the majority of Lesotho’s agricultural workforce, the security of tenure that makes capital investment rational.

The government’s Medium-Term Development Framework identifies agriculture as a priority sector. The annual budget allocation to the Ministry of Agriculture and Food Security does not reflect that priority. In a country that imports a significant proportion of its cereal requirements from South Africa, the argument for redirecting public investment toward smallholder water infrastructure is not ideological. It is fiscal. Every maluti spent reducing food import dependence through improved domestic production is a maluti that stays in the domestic economy, supports rural livelihoods, and reduces the country’s exposure to South African price movements and supply chain disruptions that it cannot control.

This newspaper calls on the Ministry of Agriculture and Food Security and the Ministry of Water to establish a joint smallholder irrigation unit with a dedicated capital budget, clear targets for irrigated hectares by district, and a community-led maintenance model that does not collapse when the project’s donor cycle ends. The Lesotho Highlands Water Project Royalty Fund, which accumulates water export revenues, should be examined as a potential source of ring-fenced financing for this purpose. It is a fitting symmetry: water exported should generate returns that irrigate the land of the people whose highlands produce it.

The Kingdom in the Sky has water. What it needs now is the will to use it for the people who live beneath those clouds and farm the soil they water.

Every new technology produces the same critic

Every new technology produces the same critic – Lesotho Tribune
Lesotho Tribune
Science & Technology  ·  lesothotribune.co.ls
Science & Technology

From the printing press to artificial intelligence, each era’s transformative invention has been met with identical warnings, identical fears, and identical demands for restraint. History suggests the critics are always partly right, and always partly wrong.

“`

When OpenAI released ChatGPT in late 2022, the warnings arrived within days. Academics feared plagiarism. Journalists feared displacement. Ethicists warned of hallucination, bias, and the erosion of truth. Governments convened emergency panels. The European Union accelerated legislation. Geoffrey Hinton, one of the architects of modern neural networks, resigned from Google and declared that he regretted his life’s work. The critic of artificial intelligence had arrived, fully formed, and the words being spoken sounded almost exactly like words that had been spoken before, about every transformative technology in recorded history.

The shape of technological criticism does not change. What changes is only the name of the machine.

“The fear is always the same: that the new thing will do what humans do, but without the humanity.”

Tribune analysis

In 1440, Johannes Gutenberg introduced movable type to Europe. Within two generations, the printing press had produced millions of books. It had also produced, in the view of many scholars and clerics of the time, a catastrophe. Pope Alexander VI issued a papal bull in 1501 calling for censorship of printed material. The humanist philosopher Hieronymus Squarciafico warned that the abundance of books would make men lazy of mind, dependent on the printed page rather than on memory and original thought. The complaint was not that books were inaccurate. The complaint was that there were too many of them, that anyone could now publish, and that the gatekeepers of knowledge had lost control.

This is, word for word, the complaint made about the internet in 1995, about social media in 2008, and about generative AI in 2023.

The five recurring criticisms

1. It destroys jobs. Said of the mechanical loom (1811), the telephone exchange (1890s), the automobile assembly line (1920s), the personal computer (1980s), and now large language models.

2. It makes people stupid. Said of the printing press (1501), the novel (1790s), the telegraph (1850s), television (1950s), the internet (1990s), and smartphones (2010s).

3. It spreads lies. Said of the pamphlet press (1640s), the penny newspaper (1830s), radio (1930s), and now social media and AI-generated content.

4. It will be used by criminals. Said of every technology from the telephone to encryption to the dark web.

5. It moves too fast to regulate. Said, in almost identical language, in every decade since industrialisation.

The telephone is instructive. When Alexander Graham Bell demonstrated his device in 1876, the response from established institutions was sceptical and, in some quarters, hostile. The Western Union Telegraph Company, which had declined to purchase Bell’s patent for $100,000, issued an internal memo in 1876 concluding that the telephone had “too many shortcomings to be seriously considered as a means of communication.” Mark Twain, who was generally enthusiastic about technology, nonetheless described the telephone as an “invention of the devil” after being interrupted by one at an inconvenient moment. More substantively, critics warned that the telephone would destroy the art of letter-writing, undermine face-to-face community, enable criminals to coordinate at a distance, and allow employers to reach workers at all hours, obliterating the boundary between labour and rest.

All of these criticisms were correct. And none of them were sufficient reason not to have the telephone.

The pattern repeats with remarkable fidelity across the history of electricity, the radio, the automobile, aviation, nuclear power, the internet, and now artificial intelligence. Each technology arrives. Critics identify, usually accurately, the genuine harms it will cause. Society debates, legislates, adapts, and eventually normalises. The technology becomes infrastructure. A new technology arrives and the critics reappear, often using identical language, sometimes quoting each other across centuries without realising it.

“The Western Union memo declining to purchase Bell’s telephone patent for $100,000 is now one of the most quoted documents in business history, for all the wrong reasons.”

Tribune analysis

Television offers perhaps the clearest modern mirror for the current AI debate. When broadcast television became a mass phenomenon in the late 1940s and 1950s, the critics were numerous, credentialed, and largely correct in their specific observations. The Federal Communications Commissioner Newton Minow famously described American television in 1961 as “a vast wasteland.” Researchers documented correlations between television viewing and reduced reading in children. Studies found that violent content influenced behaviour. Advertisers were accused of manufacturing desire and exploiting psychological vulnerability. The medium, critics argued, was fundamentally passive, turning citizens into consumers.

These criticisms were substantially accurate. They were also insufficient to prevent television from becoming the dominant medium of the twentieth century, from transmitting the civil rights movement and the moon landing, from creating shared cultural experience across fractured societies. The wasteland and the wonder coexisted, as they always do.

For South Africa and Lesotho, the AI debate carries an additional dimension that the European and American framings tend to obscure. The question is not only whether the technology causes harm. It is whether the communities most affected by that harm will have any say in how it is governed, and whether the benefits will be distributed equitably or extracted northward as so many previous technological revolutions were. The concern about AI displacing call centre workers in Johannesburg, transcription clerks in Maseru, or customer service agents in Cape Town is not abstract. But neither was the concern, once, about the displacement of hand-loom weavers in Lancashire.

The Luddites, whose name has become a byword for irrational technophobia, were not irrational. They were skilled textile workers who understood, correctly, that the mechanical loom would destroy their livelihoods. They were wrong about their ability to resist the change. They were right about the harm it would cause. The harm was real and lasted for a generation. What they could not foresee was that the industrial economy would eventually create more employment than it destroyed, albeit not for them, not in their lifetime, and not in their town.

The AI critic today: what is being said, and what was said before

AI today: “Large language models hallucinate facts and cannot be trusted for journalism or legal work.”

The telegraph, 1858: “The speed of transmission means errors will multiply before they can be corrected. The medium cannot be trusted.”

AI today: “These systems are trained on data that encodes historical bias and will perpetuate discrimination at scale.”

Television, 1952: “The medium encodes the biases of its producers and cannot give fair representation to minorities or the poor.”

AI today: “A handful of technology companies in California should not control infrastructure that affects every society on earth.”

Radio, 1934: “A handful of broadcasters in New York should not control the airwaves that reach every home in America.”

The AI critic of 2024 and 2025 is, in almost every particular, the same figure who stood at the threshold of every previous transformation. Hinton’s regret is genuine and not to be dismissed. The harms he identifies, from autonomous weapons to algorithmic deception, are real. But the structure of his concern, a brilliant insider who helped build the thing and now fears what it will become, is also the structure of Robert Oppenheimer’s concern about nuclear weapons, of Norbert Wiener’s concern about cybernetics, of Vannevar Bush’s ambivalence about the systems he helped create after the Second World War.

What history does not provide is a clean answer. The critic is not simply wrong. The enthusiast is not simply right. Each technology reshapes society in ways that are partially predictable, largely uncontrollable, and ultimately irreversible. The printing press gave Europe both the Reformation and the Wars of Religion. The internet gave the world Wikipedia and QAnon. AI will almost certainly give the world something comparably double-edged, something that will look, in a century’s time, both marvellous and terrible from the same vantage point.

The most honest position is the one that is hardest to hold: that the critic is right about the risks, that the risks do not make the technology stoppable, and that the only productive question is how to govern it, distribute its benefits, and mitigate its harms, not whether to have it at all. Every generation has faced this question. Every generation has answered it imperfectly and moved on.

The name of the machine changes. The argument does not.

“`

Lephema threatens resignation and party split as RFP implodes

Breaking News

Deputy PM faction moves to seize control of ruling party structures in a palace power struggle that threatens to shatter the government.

Senior government minister Lebona Lephema has issued a stark ultimatum to Prime Minister Samuel Matekane, threatening to resign from cabinet and form his own political party unless he is allocated a ministry of his choosing, sources within the Prime Minister’s kitchen cabinet have told Lesotho Tribune.

The threat signals a dramatic rupture at the heart of the Revolution for Prosperity, the ruling party that swept to power in 2022 on pledges of economic transformation and clean governance.

Multiple sources, speaking on condition of anonymity given the sensitivity of internal party proceedings, confirmed that Lephema has communicated his demands directly and considers his current position untenable. He is said to be prepared to walk away from government entirely should Matekane decline to act.

“He wants his ministry. If he does not get it, he is ready to resign and go it alone.” — Source within Matekane’s inner circle

Compounding the Prime Minister’s difficulties, the same sources say a faction aligned with the Deputy Prime Minister has moved decisively to consolidate influence within RFP structures, in what insiders describe as an organised effort to break Lephema’s longstanding grip on the ruling party’s internal machinery.

The factional contest has been building for months beneath the surface of a government already burdened by an underperforming economy, unresolved public sector labour disputes, and mounting pressure on service delivery across key ministries.

The crisis deepened on Wednesday evening when the Office of the Government Spokesperson confirmed that Nkhethoa Seetsa, who had been appointed Minister of Local Government and Chieftainship, has formally notified His Majesty King Letsie III of his intention to decline the appointment. The government said Seetsa will not be sworn in as scheduled on Thursday.

Official statement — Office of the Government Spokesperson, 29 April 2026

Honourable Nkhethoa Seetsa, who had been appointed as Minister of Local Government and Chieftainship, has formally informed His Majesty of his intention to decline the appointment.

Accordingly, the necessary legal processes will be undertaken to give effect to this decision, and he will not be sworn in as scheduled tomorrow.

The refusal by Seetsa to accept the Local Government and Chieftainship portfolio is widely understood to be directly connected to Lephema’s ultimatum. Sources say the ministry is precisely the appointment Lephema has demanded, and Seetsa’s withdrawal clears a vacancy that now sits at the centre of a cabinet crisis with no clear resolution.

If Lephema carries out his threat, the RFP would lose one of its most prominent political operators and face the immediate prospect of a new opposition formation drawing directly from its own voter base, further fragmenting an already volatile parliamentary arithmetic.

What is certain tonight is this: the RFP, as the country knew it, has imploded.

● Lesotho Tribune is pursuing comment from the offices of the Prime Minister and the Deputy Prime Minister. This story will be updated as further information becomes available.

Go deeper

Subscribe to Lesotho Tribune for in-depth analysis of the political environment and the forces reshaping governance in the Kingdom.

Subscribe now

When the people and the prime minister disagree

0
When the people and the prime minister disagree — Lesotho Tribune
Lesotho Tribune Opinion & Analysis
Opinion · Lesotho Politics

The removal of permanent secretary Mpopo Tšoele from the Ministry of Local Government has ignited a rare and revealing public verdict on Matekane’s government.

There is a curious thing that happens when power moves quietly in the night. The phones light up. The comment sections fill. The people, those same people whose names never appear in government gazettes, find their voice.

That is what happened after Lesotho Tribune broke the story of Mpopo Tšoele’s removal from the Ministry of Local Government. By morning, the reaction was not what one might expect when a permanent secretary is shuffled in a routine administrative manoeuvre. It was fury. It was grief. It was, in the language of the streets and the scroll, something close to a verdict.

The people, it seems, had made up their minds. And they had not sided with the prime minister.

“Public trust in the civil service is not a luxury. It is infrastructure. And right now, that infrastructure is cracking.”

The case for Tšoele

To understand the public’s anger, one must first understand what permanence means in a public service that has so rarely offered it. Permanent secretaries in Lesotho come and go with the political weather. Competent administrators are sacrificed on the altar of ministerial ego, factional arithmetic, and the quiet revenge of men whose pride has been wounded. The public has watched this cycle long enough to recognise it on sight.

What they appear to be saying, loudly and unmistakably, is that in Tšoele they saw something worth keeping. Whether that perception is built on direct experience of his work, on reputation, or simply on the instinct that a man being pushed out by a minister probably threatened someone’s comfort, it is a perception that Prime Minister Matekane cannot afford to dismiss as noise.

Public trust in the civil service is not a luxury. It is infrastructure. And right now, that infrastructure is cracking.

The case for Matekane

A prime minister who cannot resolve a paralysed ministry is not governing. He is spectating. Whatever the merits of either man in this dispute, the cold reality is that a ministry cannot function when its political head and its administrative head have stopped speaking, or worse, have started fighting. Someone had to move. Matekane moved someone.

That is not nothing. In a political culture where dysfunction is often left to fester for years, where ministers are protected and bureaucrats are invisible, the decision to act at all deserves at least a moment of honest consideration before the verdict is delivered.

The question is not whether Matekane acted. The question is whether he acted justly.

Context

Mpopo Tšoele served as permanent secretary at the Ministry of Local Government. Permanent secretaries are senior civil servants who provide administrative continuity across changes in political leadership. Their removal requires the signature of the prime minister.

Minister Lephema remains in post. Tšoele has been redeployed. No official reason has been given for the reshuffle.

The question that must be asked

Here is what the public commentary cannot tell us, but what this newspaper believes must be asked plainly: why was it Tšoele who moved, and not the minister?

In any functional administrative system, a minister who creates conditions so hostile that a permanent secretary cannot do their work is a minister who has failed in their duty. The permanent secretary serves the state. The minister serves at the pleasure of the prime minister. If there was fault to be assigned, and the nature of a brutal falling-out suggests there was fault on at least one side, then the public is entitled to know on whose door that fault was laid before the reshuffle was signed.

Lephema remains. Tšoele goes. That arithmetic will not be lost on the civil servants watching from their own offices, calculating their own risks.

“What the public may be expressing is not simply loyalty to one official, but exhaustion with a pattern. The pattern of competence being inconvenient.”

What the comments are really saying

When Basotho flood a comment section in anger, the easy reading is emotion. The harder reading, the one that matters, is signal. What the public may be expressing is not simply loyalty to one official, but exhaustion with a pattern. The pattern of competence being inconvenient. The pattern of ministers being untouchable. The pattern of accountability flowing in only one direction: downward.

If Matekane is wrong, the public will remember. Lesotho has a long memory for these things.

If the public is wrong, if this reshuffle is, in the fullness of time, revealed as a necessary and just correction, then perhaps this moment will serve as a reminder that governments must do more than act. They must explain. They must account for themselves in the open, in language that respects the intelligence of the people who elected them.

Until then, the comments section remains the most honest parliament this story has produced.

Lesotho Tribune stands by its reporting. We will continue to follow this story wherever it leads.

Lesotho Tribune lesothotribune.co.ls
“`

Ramakongoana Sets National Record at Historic Boston Marathon

0

Sport · Athletics

By Litšitso Letsunyane

Lesotho’s premier long-distance runner, Tebello Ramakongoana, has delivered yet another outstanding performance on the global stage, finishing sixth at the 2026 Boston Marathon and earning a prize of $13,500 (approximately M224,117). The race, held on Monday, 20 April, saw around 30,000 athletes tackle the iconic route from Hopkinton to Boylston Street in the United States.

This marked Ramakongoana’s second appearance at the prestigious event. Having placed eighth in 2025 with a time of 2:07:19, he returned stronger and more refined. In this year’s race he clocked an impressive 2:04:18, an improvement of three minutes over his previous appearance. While that margin may appear modest to casual observers, in elite marathon running it represents a significant leap. The time not only secured him sixth place but also established a new national record and personal best by two seconds.

“I really wanted to finish in the top three, and if that wasn’t possible, I’d at least aim to improve my personal best time, and I achieved that.”
Tebello Ramakongoana

Founded on 19 April 1897, the Boston Marathon is the world’s oldest annual marathon and is widely regarded as one of the most demanding road races in the sport. Its challenging course and deeply competitive field make it a benchmark for elite long-distance runners across the globe, while its prize structure ensures it remains among the most lucrative events on the calendar.

On Friday, 24 April, the Lesotho National Olympic Committee hosted a celebratory welcome for Ramakongoana upon his return from the United States. The event, held at the LNOC offices in Maseru West, brought together officials and members of the media to honour the national record holder’s achievement.

Speaking at the reception, Ramakongoana expressed pride in his performance, particularly given the gruelling nature of the race. He noted that the final three kilometres were the most difficult stretch, with exhaustion already setting in, but his determination never wavered.

His coach, James McKirdy, echoed the sentiment, praising Ramakongoana’s discipline and progress. McKirdy described the Boston Marathon as one of the hardest races to pace effectively and revealed that Ramakongoana’s finishing time ranks as the eighth fastest in the event’s 129-year history, underscoring the magnitude of the achievement.

For McKirdy, the result stands as a defining moment in his coaching career. For Lesotho, it is yet another indication that its athletes can compete, and excel, on the world stage.

Grounded by design: the ESG cost of thin-route aviation in landlocked Africa

Grounded by design: the ESG cost of thin-route aviation in landlocked Africa | Lesotho Tribune
“`
ESG Lens · Aviation & Connectivity

A single carrier. Three daily regional jets. No domestic alternatives. When Airlink suspended flights to Maseru in November 2025, Lesotho lost its only scheduled air service overnight. The episode was resolved in days, but the structural question it exposed will not be.

On 5 November 2025, Airlink grounded its daily Johannesburg-Maseru service. The reason was not a fare dispute or a network restructuring. It was missing fire and rescue equipment at Moshoeshoe I International Airport. Within hours, Lesotho, a country entirely surrounded by South Africa and home to roughly 2.3 million people, had no scheduled commercial air access. Passengers diverted to road. Cargo rerouted through Bloemfontein, 130 kilometres away. The interruption lasted two days. The vulnerability it revealed is permanent.

For investors and ESG analysts assessing the Southern African investment landscape, the episode is a data point that demands attention. Lesotho’s aviation situation is not an anomaly. It is the extreme end of a regional spectrum of thin-route dependency, shared in varying degrees by Eswatini, Botswana, Malawi, Zimbabwe, and Zambia. Each of these landlocked states relies on a narrow thread of air connectivity that links it to the global economy. When that thread snaps, the exposure cuts across all three pillars of ESG analysis.

USD 1.20 Average net profit per seat for African airlines, versus USD 7.70 globally (IATA, 2025)
2% Africa’s share of global air transport despite holding 20% of the world’s population
1 Scheduled carrier serving Lesotho, operating a single route to Johannesburg O.R. Tambo

The economics of thin-route aviation are structurally punishing. African airlines as a whole operate on margins that leave almost no room for reinvestment. Where the global airline industry generates approximately USD 7.70 in net profit per seat, African carriers average USD 1.20. For the regional jets that serve markets like Maseru, Maun, and Manzini, the calculus is even more unforgiving. Load factors must remain consistently high on routes that carry a limited catchment population, with limited stimulation from business travel, tourism, or cargo density.

Airlines that commit capital to these routes do so against a backdrop of infrastructure risk they cannot fully price. The Moshoeshoe I airport rehabilitation has stretched across multiple years, multiple contractors, and a cancelled ACSA tender later found to be mired in procurement irregularities. An ICAO audit in 2020 threatened to shut the facility down altogether. Renovation work resumed under a M184 million contract in 2023, with structural steel, wall reconstruction, and terminal remodelling phased through to late 2025. The carrier operating the route absorbs the commercial consequences of an airport whose governance failures are not its own making.

“Lesotho’s airport lacks traffic. Enhancing it without addressing this issue only increases costs without proportionate benefits.”

Minister Matjato Moteane, Public Works and Transport, Lesotho (2024)

The minister’s candour captures the circular trap at the heart of thin-route aviation economics. Carriers will not add frequencies or attract new entrants without guaranteed load. Governments cannot attract load without the infrastructure that signals stability and capacity. The airport upgrade is necessary but not sufficient. Without a traffic-generation strategy, it is capital deployed into a structure that cannot repay it.

Rwanda offers the contrasting case. Also landlocked, also mountainous, Rwanda has made aviation a deliberate instrument of national economic strategy. IATA’s 2025 value-of-air-transport study for the country found aviation supporting USD 160 million in economic activity and 42,000 jobs, representing 1.1 percent of GDP. RwandAir, backed by long-term sovereign investment in Kigali International Airport and the Bugesera greenfield project, has turned geographic disadvantage into a transit hub model. By mid-2025, Rwanda had ratified twelve new Bilateral Air Services Agreements, adding Eswatini, France, Poland, Canada, and Oman to a network that now positions Kigali as a credible secondary hub for Southern and Eastern Africa.


The governance dimension of this divergence is where ESG analysis becomes most precise. Lesotho’s airport has been subject to repeated ICAO safety findings, disputed procurement, failed tenders, and infrastructure neglect severe enough to trigger a near-closure notice. Eswatini, whose geographic position is analogous to Lesotho’s, signed a Bilateral Air Services Agreement with South Africa in October 2025, formalising a framework for expanded services as part of its SAATM obligations. These are not equivalent governance environments, and any ESG model treating Southern African landlocked states as a single risk category is operating with insufficient granularity.

IATA’s December 2025 outlook for Africa forecasts 6.0 percent passenger growth in 2026, outpacing the global average of 4.9 percent. Africa’s cargo demand, by contrast, remains under structural pressure, down 5.5 percent year-on-year through April 2025. For landlocked states with aspirations of becoming manufacturing or high-value goods export platforms, as Lesotho’s government has articulated through its airport free-zone concept, the cargo constraint is the most material one. Air freight is not a luxury supplement to sea trade for a landlocked country. It is the primary channel for time-sensitive, high-value exports and for the import of critical inputs. A single-carrier, single-route air link cannot reliably support that ambition.

Africa holds 1.4 billion people, approximately 20 percent of the global population, yet accounts for barely 2 percent of world air transport. ICAO’s pledge of “no country left behind” has not been redeemed on the continent’s thin routes.

The social pillar of ESG is often the most difficult to quantify in aviation analysis, yet in Lesotho’s case it is also the most immediate. Medical evacuations, diaspora connectivity, tourism arrivals, and the logistics supply chains of the garment sector, which employs tens of thousands of workers and was already absorbing the shock of US tariff decisions in 2025, all depend on the continuity of the Maseru-Johannesburg service. A two-day suspension may appear trivial on an annual traffic chart. For a textiles exporter trying to clear a time-sensitive shipment, or a patient requiring specialist medical attention in Johannesburg, it is not.

The UNDP’s August 2025 position paper on African landlocked developing countries coined the reframing from “landlocked” to “land-linked.” The paper noted that countries including Lesotho are already directing more than 30 percent of exports to other African countries, a structural shift driven by AfCFTA integration. That integration, however, requires transport infrastructure that can keep pace with trade ambition. Rwanda and Uganda have reduced border clearance times by up to 80 percent through blockchain pilots. Lesotho’s airport was still managing fire-rescue compliance failures at the start of the same year.

ESG Verdict · Thin-route aviation in landlocked Southern Africa
Environmental

Regional jets on thin routes operate at high per-seat carbon intensity relative to high-frequency mainline services. Without route competition and frequency growth, decarbonisation investment is not commercially viable. The green case for African aviation requires density first.

Social

Single-point connectivity creates extreme social vulnerability in healthcare access, diaspora remittance flows, and export labour markets. Lesotho’s November 2025 suspension illustrated that infrastructure governance failure cascades immediately into social and economic harm for ordinary citizens.

Governance

Airport procurement irregularities, deferred ICAO compliance, and repeated contractor failures represent a governance risk profile that is directly material to any investment thesis anchored in Lesotho’s transport connectivity. Rwanda and Eswatini’s bilateral diplomacy offers a governance benchmark for comparison.

The investment signal embedded in all of this is not that landlocked Southern African states are unviable destinations. It is that aviation infrastructure governance is a leading indicator of broader investment-climate quality. Rwanda’s aviation diplomacy, its sovereign commitment to Bugesera, and its carrier’s growing intercontinental network are correlates of the same governance capacity that has produced its consistent World Economic Forum competitiveness rankings. Lesotho’s airport trajectory is a correlate of something else.

For the ESG-oriented investor, the thin-route aviation economy of the Southern African interior is best understood not as a sector risk but as a systemic indicator. The state of a country’s sole airport, the reliability of its one scheduled carrier, and the quality of its bilateral air services diplomacy are, taken together, a compressed ESG audit of the state’s capacity to govern infrastructure in the public interest. In Lesotho’s case, that audit remains incomplete. The terminal renovation continues. The procurement questions linger. The free-zone ambition is articulated but not yet grounded in the traffic numbers that would make it credible to an airline, a manufacturer, or an investor looking for a rationale to extend their Southern African exposure beyond the obvious hubs.

Three daily regional jets is not a foundation. It is a starting point. What follows from here depends on whether the institutions responsible for that single runway treat it as a national infrastructure asset or as another line item awaiting the next contractor.

“`

Ramaphosa pledges R30m to Lesotho health as US aid vacuum deepens

Ramaphosa pledges R30m to Lesotho health as US aid vacuum deepens | Lesotho Tribune
“`
News  ·  Health & Infrastructure

South Africa committed R30-million for Lesotho’s HIV and tuberculosis response at the Senqu Bridge opening in Mokhotlong. The gesture arrives as Lesotho continues to reckon with the loss of at least 23 percent of its PEPFAR funding, 1,500 health counsellors, and a health system that health committee chair Mokhothu Makhalanyane says was set back at least 15 years in a single year.

President Cyril Ramaphosa announced on Wednesday that South Africa will provide R30-million in humanitarian assistance to Lesotho, directed at the country’s response to HIV and tuberculosis. The announcement came at the official opening of the Senqu Bridge in Mokhotlong, where Ramaphosa stood alongside King Letsie III and Prime Minister Samuel Matekane to mark a milestone in the long-running Lesotho Highlands Water Project. The pledge was made through the African Renaissance Fund, South Africa’s vehicle for continental development assistance.

The timing of the commitment was pointed. Ramaphosa named the context plainly: declining levels of international assistance. What that phrase gestures toward is a rupture that has not been plainly named from the stage of any regional summit but that has quietly dismantled much of Lesotho’s public health architecture over the past fifteen months.

23% Minimum share of PEPFAR funding lost by Lesotho when US aid was frozen — top 10 globally for proportional cut
1,500 HIV counsellors lost by Lesotho after PEPFAR funding suspension in February 2025
50%+ Decline in PEPFAR-supported HIV coverage in Lesotho at the height of the funding crisis in 2025

When President Trump signed an executive order freezing foreign assistance on his first day back in office in January 2025, the consequences in Lesotho were immediate. Within weeks, clinics shut. Workers were dismissed. Patients stopped treatment. The US Agency for International Development, which had been the primary implementing partner for the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief since 2003, was effectively dismantled. In Lesotho, PEPFAR had committed more than $630 million to the HIV response since 2006. Over nearly two decades, with close to $1 billion in cumulative US support, the country had assembled a health network capable enough to slow one of the world’s most severe HIV epidemics.

What the freeze exposed was how little of that system Lesotho could independently sustain. The government funded only M273.68 million of the country’s M2.2 billion health budget in the year prior to the cuts. Of that government contribution, M268 million went directly to purchasing antiretrovirals, leaving, as HIV and AIDS programme manager Dr Tapiwa Tarumbiswa told a parliamentary committee in June 2025, just three percent of the government’s health allocation for everything else, including salaries and office supplies.

“We’re going to lose a lot of lives because of this.”

Mokhothu Makhalanyane, Chairperson, Lesotho Legislative Health Committee

The scale of disruption was registered globally. The Center for Global Development, drawing on state department data obtained through a Freedom of Information suit, found that PEPFAR-supported coverage in Lesotho declined by more than 50 percent at the height of the crisis in 2025, one of the steepest drops recorded across the 53 PEPFAR-recipient countries. The Foundation for AIDS Research placed Lesotho in the top ten countries globally for the proportional share of PEPFAR funding cut when foreign assistance was frozen, with a minimum loss of 23 percent. Testing numbers fell sharply after Lesotho lost 1,500 HIV counsellors in February 2025 alone. The WHO warned in March that the country might run out of antiretroviral stocks altogether.

Progress that had taken a generation to achieve was halted abruptly. UNAIDS data had shown a 74 percent decline in new HIV infections in Lesotho since 2010, and a 47 percent decline in AIDS-related deaths. By late 2024, Lesotho had reached UNAIDS’s 95-95-95 milestone, meaning 95 percent of people living with HIV knew their status, 95 percent of those were in treatment, and 95 percent of those had a suppressed viral load. Achieving that milestone in a country where an estimated 260,000 of its 2.3 million residents are HIV-positive was a result of sustained, coordinated effort over two decades. Makhalanyane, chairperson of the country’s legislative health committee, said the cuts had set Lesotho back at least 15 years.


Background  ·  The Senqu Bridge and the LHWP

The Senqu Bridge, 825 metres long and 90 metres high, is the first extradosed bridge in Lesotho and the largest of three major crossings being built to span the Polihali Reservoir. It was constructed at an estimated cost of R2.4 billion, with 86 percent financed by South Africa, by an international joint venture led by the Webuild Group. The bridge was inaugurated jointly by King Letsie III and President Ramaphosa on 22 April 2026, in a ceremony marking 40 years of partnership under the Lesotho Highlands Water Project.

Phase II of the LHWP will increase water transfer volumes from 780 million to 1.27 billion cubic metres per annum, while boosting Lesotho’s hydropower capacity. The project is the largest single investment South Africa has made outside its borders. Gauteng, South Africa’s most populous and economically dominant province, sources approximately 60 percent of its water from Lesotho’s highlands. The bridge construction created more than 1,200 jobs, the majority for Basotho workers. A 38-kilometre tunnel connecting the Polihali and Katse reservoirs remains under construction.

Against that backdrop, South Africa’s R30-million pledge is a gesture of solidarity, but its scale requires honest framing. Lesotho’s total annual health budget, before US funding was withdrawn, ran to approximately M2.2 billion, of which the US contribution through PEPFAR and USAID programmes represented the dominant share. The R30-million announced by Ramaphosa, directed through the African Renaissance Fund, addresses a fraction of the gap that US disengagement created. It does not replace the testing infrastructure, the counselling workforce, or the supply chains that were disrupted. What it does is signal a shift in the architecture of health aid in the region: that South Africa is beginning to assume a role it has not previously been asked to play.

For Prime Minister Matekane, who told the gathering that “the royalties and infrastructure that flow from this project are not incidental benefits, they are central to our development finance strategy,” the Senqu Bridge ceremony offered a moment to reframe Lesotho’s position. The country is not only a recipient of aid. It is a sovereign supplier of the water resource that sustains the industrial heartland of the Southern African region. Lesotho’s per capita HIV burden, its poverty rate, and its dependence on external health financing are not separate from that relationship. They are part of the same account.

In May 2025, Congress voted to restore some PEPFAR funding, and by August only $2.9 billion of the $6 billion budgeted for the 2025 fiscal year had been made available. By the end of 2025, PEPFAR-supported coverage had partially rebounded globally. But health workers in Lesotho said the disruption had caused irreparable harm, with patients who missed months of treatment and supply chains that take far longer to restart than to break down.

The Senqu Bridge was built to endure. The plaque unveiled by King Letsie III and President Ramaphosa on Wednesday carries the inscription: “Officially opened on 22 April 2026 in celebration of 40 years of partnership and regional development.” What the partnership has not yet fully reckoned with is that Lesotho’s ability to remain a stable, functioning state capable of honouring long-term infrastructure commitments depends on a health system that is currently being rebuilt after a near-collapse it did not cause and could not prevent. The R30-million is a beginning. Whether the region treats the underlying structural dependence as a problem worth solving at scale is a different, larger question.

“`

© 2026 Lesotho Tribune  ·  Maseru, Lesotho  ·  lesothotribune.co.ls

Funeral planner in boardroom war as two factions claim authority

0
Funeral planner in boardroom war as two factions claim authority — Lesotho Tribune
Lesotho Tribune
Maseru · Lesotho
lesothotribune.co.ls

Business · Corporate Governance · Part One of Two

Naledi Funeral Planners has been without a functioning board since January. A failed court interdict, a disputed AGM, and a formal warning of personal criminal liability have brought the standoff to a head this week.

“`

A Leribe-based funeral services company is embroiled in a contested boardroom dispute that has left it operating without a properly functioning board for months, with two rival factions each claiming lawful authority over the company while policyholders and shareholders watch the standoff unfold.

Naledi Funeral Planners (Pty) Ltd, which operates from Hlotse and serves policyholders across Leribe and surrounding districts, has been at the centre of a governance crisis since its Annual General Meeting of 16 January 2026, at which a group of shareholders voted to remove five sitting directors and replace them with three new ones.

The removed directors have since challenged that outcome in court, seeking orders that would restrain the newly elected board from acting, interdict the Registrar of Companies from registering the new directors, and restrain seven shareholders from interfering in the company’s administration and management.

The court declined to grant any of those interim orders, extending only urgency to the matter. That outcome has left the resolutions of 16 January 2026 legally operative, a position the new board has now moved to act upon.

The five removed directors
Shareholders voted unanimously to remove the following at the disputed AGM of 16 January 2026
  • Malefetsane Tlelima
  • Bonang Phooko
  • Tholo Shea
  • Soaile Mochaba
  • Mamphano Tente

In a formal shareholder communiqué dated 24 April 2026, director Thabiso Madiba, writing on behalf of the shareholder-elected board, advised all shareholders that the new directors would resume their governance duties with effect from Monday, 26 April 2026, pending the final determination of the court application.

“It is neither prudent nor responsible for an institution such as Naledi Funeral Planners to continue operating in a governance vacuum without proper management oversight and direction.”

Thabiso Madiba, Director — Shareholder Communiqué, 24 April 2026

The shareholder communiqué sets out a sequence of events that began when the then chairman of the company abandoned the AGM of 16 January before its conclusion. The shareholders who remained, the communiqué states, constituted a quorum and resolved to continue the meeting.

In that continuation, shareholders unanimously resolved to remove the five directors. They then elected Thabiso Madiba, Khojane Madiba, and Ts’olo Seutloali as replacement directors, with two further vacancies left to be filled.

The communiqué also discloses that the removed directors have not been diligently prosecuting their court application since urgency was granted. If the situation persists, the matter may lose its urgent status and revert to the ordinary roll, which could leave the dispute unresolved for a prolonged period.

Concurrently with the shareholder communiqué, Madiba issued a formal instruction to company secretary Peter Matekane on 24 April, directing him to convene a board meeting on Wednesday, 29 April 2026, for the sole purpose of electing an additional independent director to the board.

That instruction was issued against the backdrop of a separate notice in which Madiba warned the five removed directors that their own reported plan to convene a board meeting to consider and approve the company’s budget constituted an unlawful exercise of authority. The notice warned that any expenditure incurred or authorised at such a meeting would be treated as irregular and unlawful, and that those responsible could face personal civil and criminal liability.

“Any attempt by you to exercise powers as directors is premature, improper, and legally untenable. The matter is sub judice, and any conduct involving the use or authorisation of company funds without authority may be referred to the relevant authorities.”

Thabiso Madiba, Notice to former directors

The Lesotho Tribune sought comment from representatives of the removed directors, from company secretary Peter Matekane, and from the Chief Executive Officer of Naledi Funeral Planners. No response had been received by the time of publication.

Naledi Funeral Planners operates in a sector where governance stability carries direct consequences for ordinary policyholders. Funeral cover clients depend on the timely and properly authorised processing of claims, particularly during bereavement. A prolonged absence of board oversight raises questions about the continuity of those functions and the security of premium receipts.

The new board’s communiqué commits to acting cautiously, responsibly, and strictly within the confines of the law, and pledges to keep shareholders informed of all material developments.

“`

Part One of Two. Part Two will examine what the governance dispute means for Naledi Funeral Planners’ policyholders and the regulatory framework governing funeral services companies in Lesotho.

Independent business & current affairs journalism · Lesotho Subscribe — M85/month
| Independent business & current affairs journalism · Lesotho