…All hail King Lipholo!
QOALING – affectionately, or perhaps fearfully, known as Kasi ea li-Kleva (loosely translated as “the home of the streetwise”) – did not earn its reputation overnight. It has worked hard for it!
If petty crime were an Olympic sport, Qoaling would surely be bidding for hosting rights, with its residents competing for gold in housebreaking, street robberies, knife attacks, impersonating police officers and gender-based violence. You name it, Qoaling has dominated the crime statistics.
The situation became so concerning that the Lesotho Mounted Police Service (LMPS) eventually decided to establish a police post in the area in 2020. One would have imagined that the first case reported there would involve some serious criminal enterprise, perhaps an armed robbery or a daring housebreaking operation.
But no! The inaugural case was a woman allegedly assaulting her boyfriend because he had supposedly bought another woman a quart of Black Label. Apparently, in Qoaling, even love triangles can become police matters. One man’s beer-shopping decisions nearly became a matter of national security.
Stories emerging from Ha Mampho and its surroundings are sometimes more entertaining than a Rumpelstiltskin fairy tale, except that Qoaling’s versions come with a toxic twist, police dockets and occasional hospital visits.
So, when Lady Scrutator learnt that our very own national doctor, renowned Reverend and politician, Dr Tšepo Lipholo, hails from this illustrious neighbourhood, she was hardly surprised. After all, where else would one expect such an extraordinary political imagination to be nurtured?
His latest adventures have certainly given the neighbourhood another reason to celebrate its reputation.
Imagine waking up one morning and deciding that being a politician, reverend and national doctor is simply not enough. You want a crown too! Not just any crown, mind you, but that of the King of Basutoland.
Now, Lady Scrutator understands ambition. We all want to climb the ladder of success. Some want to become ministers, others ambassadors, while particularly ambitious souls dream of becoming prime ministers. But installing yourself as a king while another king already occupies the throne is taking ambition to an entirely different level.
One wonders whether Dr Lipholo has been reading too much history or watching too many historical dramas. Perhaps he has mistaken modern-day southern Africa for the days of Morena Moshoeshoe I and King Shaka Zulu, when kingdoms expanded through conquest, military strength and the incorporation of defeated territories.
At least those historical kings had armies, fought battles and conquered territory. The Lifaqane was no picnic, and nobody became a king simply because a few supporters gathered to organise an installation ceremony.
But with Dr Strange Lipholo, things appear to have taken a rather different route. We hear allegations of young men being recruited for military training on farms in South Africa, although South African intelligence and police structures have reportedly said they found no evidence to support the allegations. The treason case remains before the courts. Yet, before the courts have even settled the matter, we suddenly have a king! A king who, rather inconveniently, is also a fugitive being sought by the police.
What a royal arrangement! His Majesty is crowned virtually, while the police are conducting a very earthly search for him. Perhaps the palace has a special department responsible for royal appearances through video calls, while another department deals with avoiding arrest warrants.
And the timing could hardly be more theatrical. After allegedly travelling between Lesotho, South Africa and Israel, Dr Lipholo reportedly made a virtual appearance at his inauguration in Bloemfontein. He is believed to have left South Africa on 26 October, reportedly travelling through Ethiopia, with Israel said to be his likely destination.
The LMPS, meanwhile, says it is still looking for him and has no confirmed information about his whereabouts. One can only imagine the frustration of officers trying to locate a man whose royal duties seem to be conducted across international borders.
But the comedy does not end there. A South African traditional monarch, King Tibisi April Motaung II, has now approached the Free State High Court to challenge Dr Lipholo’s alleged kingship. The monarch argues that Lipholo cannot simply bypass established hereditary structures and customary recognition procedures to claim royal authority.
He wants the court to declare any purported recognition invalid and stop Lipholo from presenting himself as a recognised traditional leader of the Bataung lineage.
The BCM, however, insists that Dr Lipholo has never claimed to be a Bataung chief, but rather the King of Basutoland, a position supposedly bestowed upon him by the people.
Well, there we have it! Even the kings are now taking their differences to court. Perhaps the next development will be the appointment of a royal legal team, a royal spokesperson and, naturally, a royal police escort.
Lady Scrutator is particularly amused by the suggestion that Dr Lipholo’s kingship is safe and that King Tibisi should simply relax. It is one thing to tell an ordinary neighbour to relax, but telling a hereditary monarch that his throne is safe while someone else is being installed as king takes a special kind of confidence.
Meanwhile, back home in Lesotho, we already have King Letsie III, whose constitutional and traditional position is not something that can be casually replaced by a ceremony organised elsewhere.
Perhaps Dr Lipholo should first concentrate on the serious legal matters awaiting him before expanding his royal responsibilities. A king who cannot freely attend to his court appearances may find the demands of running a kingdom rather overwhelming.
And as for Qoaling, Kasi ea li-Kleva has certainly produced another headline-grabbing son. From a police post whose first reported case involved a quart of Black Label to an alleged king whose coronation has triggered a cross-border royal dispute, the neighbourhood never disappoints.
Lady Scrutator can only wonder what comes next. A royal palace in Ha Mampho? A royal police post? Or perhaps a royal liquor licence, with Black Label served exclusively to loyal subjects?
In Qoaling, one should never underestimate the imagination of the streetwise. Even kingship is apparently up for grabs!
From mighty political movement to a house of misery
THERE was a time when the All Basotho Convention (ABC) was the political equivalent of a mighty elephant. It strode confidently across Lesotho’s political landscape, attracting crowds, commanding loyalty and giving its opponents sleepless nights. Today, however, the once mighty elephant looks more like a wounded donkey, struggling to keep its feet while its handlers fight over who should hold the reins.
What a spectacular fall from grace!
Lady Scrutator cannot help wondering whether the ABC’s troubles are a case of political karma or simply the consequences of choosing the wrong horse to ride.
Cast your minds back to 2020, when founding leader Thomas Thabane finally stepped down. The party had a choice between two candidates to take over the leadership: Dr Moeketsi Majoro and Nkaku Kabi.
Majoro had already demonstrated that he possessed the qualities of a ruler. He was a seasoned economist, a former finance minister and a man who would eventually become Prime Minister. Kabi, on the other hand, was the alternative.
The whole episode reminded Lady Scrutator of the biblical story of Jesus Christ and Barabbas. When Pontius Pilate offered the crowd a choice between releasing Jesus, the Messiah, and Barabbas, a prisoner, the crowd chose Barabbas.
In the ABC’s own political version of that story, members chose Ntate Kabi over Dr Majoro. They effectively released their own Barabbas and sent their Messiah packing.
Of course, Lady Scrutator is not suggesting that Dr Majoro was a saint or that his premiership was without shortcomings. But surely the ABC could have spared itself some of the misery it is now enduring had its members made a different choice.
Instead, they handed Ntate Kabi the keys to the kingdom. And what has followed has been one political headache after another.
The party that once boasted 51 constituency seats in the 2017 general elections was reduced to just eight proportional representation seats in 2022. That was not merely an electoral defeat. It was a political earthquake. Yet, instead of embarking on serious introspection, the party appears to have perfected the art of fighting itself.
The latest spectacle is nothing short of embarrassing. Ntate Kabi set his Makesi dogs on Secretary General, Thebe Mokoatle, during an NEC meeting.
Mr Mokoatle was bitten by those bodyguards until he resigned from the party’s NEC.
Lady Scrutator is tempted to ask whether Ntate Kabi has confused the ABC headquarters with a boxing gym. What business do bodyguards have assaulting a party’s Secretary General during an executive meeting? Is this how disagreements are now settled in the ABC? Perhaps the party should amend its constitution to include boxing gloves among the requirements for NEC meetings.
Mr Mokoatle’s exit seemed to have opened the floodgates. Deputy Leader Samonyane Ntsekele, Chairman Kemiso Mosenene, Deputy Chairman Lebakeng Mpana and Deputy Secretary General Tšolo Khechane also quit the NEC.
Four senior officials walking away within days, alongside other departures, should have been enough to make any responsible leader stop and ask what has gone terribly wrong.
But perhaps Ntate Kabi believes that the problem with the ABC is not that people are leaving, but that there are still people left who dare disagree with him.
Lady Scrutator wonders what the great Ntate Thabane makes of the mess. Did he envisage that the movement he painstakingly built would one day become a political refuge for resignations, accusations and bodyguard-induced beatings?
Perhaps the ABC should organise another elective conference, not to elect a leader, but to establish whether there is still a party left to lead.
As for the members who chose Ntate Kabi over Dr Majoro, they may want to revisit that biblical lesson. Choosing Barabbas may have seemed like a good idea at the time, but the consequences can be rather painful.
The once mighty ABC is now a cautionary tale of how a political giant can become its own worst enemy. Basotho did not necessarily defeat the ABC. The ABC seems to have taken care of that job itself.
And Ntate Kabi, the man entrusted with steering the elephant, appears to have lost control of the reins. What a pity!
Achee!
