If Lesotho ever establishes a Ministry of Comedy, Scrutator proposes that the first order of business should be to award the Ministry of Trade, Industry and Business Development a Lifetime Achievement Award for Unprovoked National Self-Sabotage. Truly—what the Romans did for architecture, what the Greeks did for philosophy, the Ministry of Trade has done for economic absurdity. It shouldn’t be called the Ministry of Trade, Industry and Business Development. But the Ministry of Mistrade, Deindustrialization and Business Destruction.
Yes, dear readers, we are now proudly marching into 2026 with a grand masterplan: destroy the economy in order to save it.
According to a report in one local weekly, the government has finally decided to enforce its infamous Regulation 34—a masterpiece of economic fantasy which declares that Basotho will become entrepreneurs the moment foreigners are shoved out of the economy. A sort of “economic baptism by eviction.” Throw them out, and boom—Basotho will awaken as business geniuses, fluent in supply chain management, cash flow modelling, procurement, logistics, refrigeration, warehousing, stock rotation, and customer service. Overnight. Like instant noodles.
If Scrutator were given one wish for Lesotho’s policymakers, it would be this: may they one day discover the radical, earth-shattering secret that entrepreneurship is not created by banning people. It is created by enabling them. But alas, here we are—hurtling proudly backwards into an era where the government seems to believe Basotho will suddenly become worldclass business people simply because foreigners are chased out of the marketplace.
But let’s not spoil the comedy.
According to the local weekly, the Ministry has now informed foreign traders—those annoying people who work 18 hours a day, never take weekends off, don’t complain, don’t demand tenders, and actually keep shops stocked—that their licences will not be renewed. Why? Because Basotho entrepreneurs are “ready” to take over.
Ready? READY!? Ready with what, exactly? With what capital? What skills? What stock suppliers? What trucks? What warehouses? What distribution contracts? What refrigeration? What business plans? What financial literacy? The good Minister must show us where this army of fully trained entrepreneurs has been hiding. Under the bed? Behind the counter? In exile?
Foreigners dominate the retail sector not because Basotho are oppressed, but because Basotho were simply not THERE. Just not there. Not selling. Not stocking. Not investing. Not risking. Not sweating. Not showing up.
And now, suddenly, because foreigners will be chased out, Basotho will magically show up? When? After lunch?
This logic is so catastrophically stupid it deserves its own museum exhibit.
By the Ministry of Trade’s own admission, eighty percent of jobs in the inspected retail sector are generated by foreign-owned businesses. Eighty. Not eight. Not eighteen. Eighty. So when those foreigners close shop, we get… what?
– 80% unemployment?
– 80% angry youth?
– 80% more customers crossing into Ladybrand to buy cabbage and toothpaste?
And now we hear the Minister of Trade, Mokhethi Shelile—once reluctant, once seemingly sensible—has transformed into a full-time Regulation 34 evangelist. What changed? Political pressure. The same political pressure that has already broken hospitals, schools, roads, and every reform process in this country.
And now it is back to break the economy.
Scrutator is not fooled. The Minister knows this will cause chaos. He knows Basotho are not ready to fill these sectors. He knows shutting down foreign businesses will produce empty shelves, massive job losses, angry citizens, and skyrocketing prices. But like a man who sees a cliff and still presses the accelerator to prove a point, he has decided to proceed.
When Lesotho shops run dry, remember: it’s not the foreigners who fled the country. It’s the brain cells that fled the Ministry.
Let us pause for a moment to acknowledge the truly exquisite irony:
Lesotho desperately BEGS foreign investors for manufacturing, textile jobs, renewable energy, mining, agriculture, and tourism.
But selling tomatoes? No, no, no—THAT is too important. Only a Mosotho can sell tomatoes.
Truly, we are a country that hires foreigners to build hospitals but refuses to let them sell bananas.
The contradictions would be hilarious if they weren’t tragic.
Naturalised citizens—poor souls—are now learning that being a Mosotho is a conditional privilege. You are welcome… until someone decides you are not. Until you are suddenly too foreign to operate a barbershop but not too foreign to pay taxes.
Scrutator must also note the glorious stupidity of reserving activities like laundry services, photocopying, shebeens, hairdressing, stall sales, fruit and vegetable vending, scrap metal, and shoe repairs for “locals only.” My goodness—GENIUS! Soon we will see billionaires emerging from photocopying shops. Basotho will become the Dubai of photocopying.
Let us be serious.
You cannot regulate Basotho into prosperity.
You cannot legislate your way into entrepreneurship.
You cannot build a competitive economy by banning competition.
That is how you build poverty.
That is how you build black markets.
That is how you build resentment.
That is how you build an economy that even donkeys can outrun.
Scrutator therefore issues this final appeal to Minister Shelile:
Sir, reverse course before your policy becomes a national obituary.
Stop enforcing stupidity.
Stop treating the economy like a political colouring book.
Stop blaming foreigners.
Start empowering Basotho through real programmes, real training, real capital, real reforms, real systems.
Because banning foreigners won’t make Basotho rich.
But it will make everyone poor.
The truth is painfully clear: you do not build entrepreneurs by banning competition. You build entrepreneurs by enabling competition. By providing access to finance. By supporting skills development. By reducing the cost of doing business. By slashing red tape. By improving infrastructure. By fixing customs inefficiencies. By providing electricity that does not yawn and collapse every Friday afternoon.
These are the things that create real entrepreneurs—not regulation written as though by someone who once read a book titled “How to Build an Economy Using Wishful Thinking.”
Basotho deserve empowerment. They deserve real economic participation. They deserve opportunities. But empowerment must be built, not declared. It must be earned, not inherited. It must be cultivated, not enforced by kicking out those who are already doing the work.
Scrutator will say this plainly: banning foreigners from doing business will not create a single real entrepreneur. It will create resentment, shortages, unemployment, and chaos. And when the dust settles, the same government will return to Parliament to request amendments, exemptions, clarifications, and emergency measures.
Because the economy does not obey emotions. It obeys realities.
Scrutator therefore urges Minister Shelile to reconsider his enthusiastic crusade. Policy should be grounded in evidence, not political chants. When foreign-owned shops close, it will not be the politicians who suffer. It will be the very Basotho these regulations claim to protect.
Stop blaming foreigners. Start empowering Basotho.
Now that would be a true Revolution For Prosperity.
Ache!!!
