Scrutator has seen many things in this Mountain Kingdom — coups staged with army trucks that barely had fuel, counter-coups, ministers who believe “public funds” means “my funds.”, MPs who confuse parliament with a karaoke bar, and senior government officials who think “accountability” is a brand of bottled water.
But never, ever, has Scrutator seen a government so determined to trip over its own shoelaces as this Matekane administration.
Even by Lesotho’s standards, the Matekane government’s decision to keep the Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP), Hlalefang Motinyane, locked out of her office despite a crystal-clear Constitutional Court order takes the gold medal in the Olympics of folly.
Let’s call it what it is: gross, wrong and downright stupid.
In case you’ve been living under a rock, here’s the scandal of the season: The Constitutional Court ordered that DPP Motinyane be reinstated after her suspension was declared unconstitutional. A clear, unequivocal ruling. One of those rare moments when even a Standard Seven dropout could understand the judgment without reaching for Panado.
But instead of complying, our beloved government did what? It padlocked her office door. Yes, you read that right. They fetched a padlock. Gross, wrong, and downright stupid.
Banana Kingdom 101
In 2022, when Sam Matekane launched his Revolution for Prosperity, he told Basotho he had stepped forward to save this country from collapse, from sliding into failed-state territory. He wrapped himself in the language of clean governance, prosperity, and renewal. Scrutator nearly broke a tooth cheering.
But what has happened? Three years later, under his watch, Lesotho is behaving less like a constitutional democracy and more like a banana republic — sorry, scratch that, a banana Kingdom. Because in this Kingdom, we always add a twist of royal comedy to our failures.
Because only in this Kingdom of perpetual mischief can a Prime Minister look at a Constitutional Court order and say, “Interesting ruling, but let’s just lock the office door anyway.”
Scrutator thought court orders were binding, not optional suggestions like buying a gym membership in January.
A Prime Minister who defies a Constitutional Court order on such a monumental issue has officially declared to the world: “Here, the Constitution is optional, like buying toothpaste at the tuckshop. We’ll use it if we feel like it.”
Investors, take note. If they can humiliate a constitutionally protected DPP, your mining licence or trade agreement stands about as much chance of survival as a snowball in Mohale Dam in January.
Locksmithing cartel
When the Concourt ruled that Adv
Motinyane’s suspension was unconstitutional, it was a victory for common sense and the rule of law. It should have been the end of the matter. She should have walked back into her office, picked up her files, and resumed prosecuting the crooks who keep this country on its knees.
But instead, the government decided to show Basotho, investors, and the world that it doesn’t give a flying fig about the courts. Doors locked. Phones switched off. Ministers allegedly “out of the country.” The Commissioner of Police missing in action. The Attorney General pretending it’s all an “operational matter.”
You almost have to admire the creativity. Not since Tom Thabane tried to govern Lesotho via phone calls from South Africa has Scrutator seen such inventiveness.
The judges said: “Let her back.”
The government replied: “We’ve lost the keys.”
The DPP arrives at her office like a diligent student reporting for class, and what greets her? A locked door. Minister Ramoeletsi is “out of the country.” Commissioner Matsoso is “unreachable.” The Attorney General is suddenly a ghost.
What is this, a game of hide-and-seek? A school trip where everyone hides from the teacher? A badly written soap opera?
Basotho deserve better. They elected a government, not a lock-smithing cartel.
Investors, Take Note
Meanwhile, the same government has been gallivanting in Washington, cap in hand, begging for favourable trade terms. They say, “Trust us, we’re open for business.” Investors, don’t be fooled. Any government that humiliates its own constitutionally protected officers will chew up and spit out your investment contracts with the same casual disdain.
You don’t need a Harvard MBA to know this: capital hates chaos. And locking out the DPP in defiance of the country’s highest court is the very definition of chaos.
The “Prosperity” That Wasn’t
Ntate Matekane promised a Revolution for Prosperity. What Basotho are getting instead is a Revolution for Pettiness, a Revolution for Banana Republic antics, a Revolution for Locking Office Doors.
If this is prosperity, then Scrutator is the Pope.
The government’s credibility is now lying in the same dustbin where broken promises go to die. The only revolution Matekane has successfully delivered is a revolution in how fast a government can squander goodwill.
Silencing the Unmuzzled
Let’s not forget why Motinyane is being targeted in the first place. She is the first DPP in Africa to charge a sitting Prime Minister. She refused to bend to political pressure to drop charges against coalition allies like Mothetjoa Metsing. She is tough, independent, and incorruptible — three words that terrify politicians who live by patronage.
So they plotted her downfall, and when the courts slapped them down, they reached for the padlock. Scrutator must ask: what kind of government behaves like a jealous landlord evicting a tenant by changing the locks? What’s next? Will they disconnect her water and electricity? Toss her files out the window? Hide her stapler?
For her courage, ‘Me Motinyane is being rewarded with harassment, impeachment threats, and now the mother of all insults: a padlocked office door. Gross. Wrong. Stupid.
The Banana Republic Test
Here’s the real test: if the government continues to defy the court order, then Lesotho has officially failed the banana republic exam. It will have told the world that in this Kingdom, the Constitution is a mere decoration, not a binding covenant.
Banana republics, or banana Kingdoms, don’t attract serious investors. They attract vultures, loan sharks, and political tourists. They attract the kind of “partners” who will happily sell you overpriced white elephants while laughing all the way to foreign banks.
Real Investors aren’t blind. They see a government that treats a DPP like an enemy of the state. They see a Prime Minister who thinks court orders are just decorative wall art.
No serious investor puts money in a country where the government’s attitude to the rule of law is “optional extra.” The only thing this behaviour will attract is shady businessmen looking for banana-republic bargains — the type who pay bribes in cash and leave behind broken factories like that crocked John guy.
Capital is like a nervous cat: it doesn’t settle where the owners slam doors and throw tantrums.
If Matekane wants to be remembered as the Prime Minister who turned Lesotho into a Banana Kingdom, he’s well on his way.
Conclusion: Unpick the Padlock
There’s still time to avoid complete disgrace. All the government needs to do is this: unpick the padlock, let the DPP back in, and stop acting like clowns auditioning for a banana circus.
Scrutator has no illusions. This government may continue to huff and puff, but every extra day that Adv. Motinyane is locked out is another day that Lesotho sinks deeper into the quicksand of ridicule.
Ntate Matekane, you promised prosperity. Instead, you’re delivering humiliation. Fix it.
Because gross, wrong and stupid is not a governance strategy. It’s the punchline of a very bad joke.
Again, Scrutator reminds you – without any qualms – that your grand slogan promised a Revolution for Prosperity. But what you are now delivering is a Revolution for Padlocks and Excuses. A Revolution for Pettiness. Your crusade against the DPP is the very essence of pettiness.
The credibility of this government is now lying somewhere in the gutter of Kingsway, crushed like a cheap knock-off sneaker. Every extra day that Adv. Motinyane remains locked out is another nail in the coffin of your so-called revolution Ntate.
Of Idiots and Admissions
Let’s not forget Deputy Prime Minister Nthomeng Majara’s famous confession: she admitted the government had “merely asked” the DPP to drop charges against Metsing. That’s like a thief saying, “I didn’t rob the bank, I merely withdrew funds without consent.”
Her honesty might be refreshing in another universe. But here, it was political suicide. Even Knorx Molelle, then boss of the DCEO, was caught on tape calling Majara, Matekane, and Motsieloa “idiots” for admitting it in court. Molelle lost his job because Matekane and his allies insisted they are “geniuses”.
Now, having lost in court, instead of licking their wounds, these same geniuses chose to padlock the DPP’s office. Truly, stupidity is a renewable resource in Lesotho.
Here’s the real test. A functioning democracy obeys its courts. A banana republic ignores them.
By keeping the DPP locked out, Matekane’s government has failed the banana republic exam with flying colours. Congratulations, gentlemen. You’ve joined the league of leaders who think constitutions are toilet paper and courts are suggestions.
This Banana Kingdom title comes with perks: no serious investors, endless ridicule, and front-row seats in the Theatre of Shame.
What Next?
Scrutator fears what’s coming next. Will the government put security guards at the DPP’s gate armed with whistles and sjamboks? Will they drag her desk into Kingsway for a garage sale? Will they rent out her office as an Airbnb with the caption: “Spacious corner office, central Maseru, perfect for banana-republic dictators”?
This is no longer about the DPP. It’s about whether Lesotho still pretends to be a country of laws. If a government can mock the highest court and get away with it, then tomorrow they’ll mock everything else: contracts, treaties, the Constitution itself.
The Punchline of a Bad Joke
There’s still a way out. Matekane can choose humility, respect the Court, unpick the padlock, and restore some credibility. But knowing this government, Scrutator won’t hold his breath.
Every extra day they persist with this farce, they dig the grave of their own Revolution for Prosperity. History will not remember Matekane as the billionaire who saved Lesotho. It will remember him as the man who padlocked justice and unlocked banana-republic chaos.
Gross. Wrong. Stupid. That is not a governance strategy. It’s the punchline of a very bad joke.
Epilogue: Scrutator’s Modest Proposal
If Matekane insists on keeping the DPP locked out, Scrutator suggests he rebrands his party from Revolution for Prosperity to Revolution for Padlocks. At least then the branding will match the behaviour.
