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Time is as old as time itself, and despite the many mathematical calculations associated with the pursuit of establishing the origins thereof, time and its beginnings remain a mystery, a mystique whose point of birth can in actuality never be “truly” established logically: the span time of time cannot, post and ante meridian, be measured due to its innumerable and infinitesimal nature.
Time cannot be measured, and us mere mortals can only raise speculations on this enigma of creation within which we human beings make valiant attempts to make a mark, to be remembered though we are in every essence just shadows in the long night of the history of the world.

The past of this world is long and now gone, the future is indeterminate, and the best anyone can hope to scratch on the wall of time lies only in the hope that they will be remembered for achieving something great, that is, they in brief hope that they “will leave a mark”, that will be seen someday in the future of the world, that their feats will be granted a place in the time capsules.
The rock paintings of the ancients (the San, the Neanderthals, and other species displaying some kind of sapience), the fossils of creatures and plants long dead, and the noise of history are all governed by the nature of time.

All of us, animal and plant and other formed beings in some way seem to seek to mark their place in time through some act that at the end of the day fans out into what can be seen; through an “expression” that reveals its true nature.
From a bean sprouting, to a rose blooming, a peacock spreading his fan of royal purple and emerald green tail feathers, or a baby screaming its first cries, the world in many ways is expressing, giving of itself to the eyes, the ears, the feelings and the beings of all gathered around to become aware of its presence.

Expression denotes presence, for without it, we are not, none and all are not; and time cannot see us or even remember that we were ever here and passed this way.
The philosophical and the religious, the astronomical and supernatural, the mystical and the mundane, the real and the unreal, the finite and the myriad: all find their definitive natures in the simple expressions of actions performed within the infinite spaces of time.
Expression stems from the first moment when nature gives of itself to support the first breaths of a newly born in the form of air, and this goes on in nature and take the form of the mother that expresses milk from her mammary glands as primary sustenance to the infant who lay in her womb for the whole period of gestation.
First a mystery before sprouting, nature nurtures what shall soon be expressed in the darkness of the known but little understood.
A farmer sowing seed interns it in the soil without exactly knowing what goes on in the dark warm depths of the soil, but he or she is elated at the moment when the shoot of that which was sown sprouts forth.

Expression is at first a mystery, and common sense gives one the hint that it is at this moment that the roots lance their way into the soil, and spread the root network in the subterranean that will sustain the plant once it shoots into the various atmospheric conditions of the open earth where all nature can witness its growth.
It is a pattern seen in all creation; it is witnessed even in the inventions of man where an idea lays its roots in the mind of the inventor before it is expressed as a prototype that can be copied for the world to utilise, to marvel at, or to nurture.

There is a sense of synchrony, a certain level of harmony that should be maintained if that which is in the process of being created should at the end of the day turn out a symphony to be enjoyed by all.
I could have guessed that such a simple term as expression could be explained in the briefest of terms, until I realised how broad it is and that one cannot exactly cover the entire spectrum of its meanings in a single seating.

We talk of expression in clichéd terms due to the political incorrectness of the manner in which the term is often presented to the world.
The tendency of the modern world (which I find dismally incompetent when it comes to the use of language to express the full potential of the meanings found in words) is for salient terms to be gradually effaced by over-usage without prior definition of their core meanings.

An example can be made of such terms as “Rights” and ‘the Freedom of Expression’ which form the main part of many a state’s constitution are presented to the common citizens.
The common practice is that individuals are told that they have rights without being taught of the responsibilities they have in the maintenance of such rights.
People are taught that they have the freedom to express their concerns, but none are taught that they should watch their words in the process of verbally or scripturally presenting them; for such words carry the potential to infringe on the rights of others who have equal power in the light of the constitution of the land.
In the political and human rights debates and arguments of this day, one senses and realises that the infringement of the rights of others has become a common practice that relevant authorities often ignore.

What leaves me puzzled is that the legal order and its nature claim to imitate nature in many ways, but the occurrences of the day reveal a form that is contrary to the nature we claim to imitate. In the expression of its true beauty when it blooms, the rose wafts off whiffs of sweet scent loved equally by the nasal nodes of man and those of the honey that gathers the nectar that is both a sweet and a salve to the one that gathers of it later.

In the expression of its beauty, the rose is not only a marvel to the eye of the beholder; it gives back of itself to the environment around it that helps to maintain its continuum in time by watering its shoots to maturity and transporting its pollen in the season when flowers bloom and pollinate (in short, mate). One hardly finds this sort of behaviour in the modern “take, take, take” human world where more often than less, the expression of one comes at the expense of the defacement of the other fellow creature or environment.

It is in the pursuit of the vainglorious need to show the superiority of human intelligence through science and technology that the ozone layer got depleted, that global warming, torrential storms and disastrous droughts began. Invention after invention whose sole claim to fame was “to make life easier” (as if it will ever be) was in actual fact the expression of a Smart Alec Nerd’s stupidity and anti-nature character, and rather than correct him, a gang of knaves and arsonists whose sole means of expression is found in sowing discord amongst humans and starting wars on all nature whilst gaining profit from it supported the nerd.
It is true that expression is necessary for human progress, but its fires should be stamped out even before they become roaring blazes whose existence will threaten the welfare of the landscape around.
If the blooming of a flower will exude poison gas that will pollute the landscape, then such a flower should be exterminated before it blooms.

Nature did it with the dinosaurs, and sometimes, when there are storms and hurricanes, I entertain the view that the earth is tired of the human garbage dumped in tonnes every second: nature cannot honestly take the large amounts of dirt we dump and not feel nauseous, and the nausea is expressed in storms and droughts, in hurricanes and climate change.

Our modes of expression should begin to take all of nature into consideration.
I heard that when a star is born, it is just a dark mass of gases which at a certain moment in time explodes to emit the brilliant glare we see in the stars twinkling in the night or in the sun that shines on a clear blue day (this process takes a long time, millions of years even, so the scientist says).
That it is a star that is keeping the earth in the state it is in is the ultimate measure of what expression should be; it should sustain life, give us light, and maintain the gravitational equilibrium so we can live comfortably enough as the sun does to the earth.

Expression does not mean that the existence of one should blot out another, or that the quest to have one’s star seen should eclipse the lanterns of the others who are too trying to make a mark in the long night of time.
Expression is in more ways than less related to light, for where true expression occurs things become bright, and I guess, where one sees anything occurring that is contrary to the emission of light as is found in expression, then something other than expression is occurring.

The antonyms of expression carry a meaning negative even thought they have the same “-ssion” suffix: compression, depression, oppression, suppression . . . and the list goes on.
Gloomy, sad, and uncomfortable, these antitheses to expression are, and they are associated with the negative.
I remember the flowering of blooms every time I think of the term, and I think of a beautiful portrait framed and hung properly, and I realise that the vandal spray-paint scrawling of a vagabond graffiti “artist” are not expression but something else: they are the ravings and rantings of a spoiled brat who knows not the meaning of beauty.

Expression has hung on the walls of time for a long time, and it has come in forms both negative and positive.
Covering all of the senses of man, the plants and the creatures of the world, expression is the ultimate act of communication; where one part establishes connection with the other: the manner in which this occurs is what really counts.
On the part of the human being, one issue is paramount, and that is, the intention behind the act of reaching out, of giving out an expression of some element.

If the intention is not of the virtuous kind, then the form of expression is bound to have bitter fruits which cannot be found to have sustenance for anyone tasting them.
The sensual and the exotic elements of our being, that is, those qualities in our nature that sense and know what is right based on feeling and reason, instinctively gravitate toward good forms of expression as a sunflower would lean towards the light of the sun hanging up in the sky.

There are arguments in the present day that are geared towards expression in any form being granted as a basic right available to all individuals, but the question remains: are all forms of expression right?
Should closet characteristics that threaten the well-being, harmonious progress and the continuation of the human race and the world be allowed a place in the public sphere where they might pollute the minds of the younger race not yet mature enough to make their own decisions?
I think not; I think expression should at its most fundamental level be a controlled process of human behaviour.

Otherwise we will have marauding bands of delinquents expressing their “interest” by burning and looting, gangs of poachers killing rhinos for their horns to use in dubious medical practices, armies of quacks digging the ground bare of herbs in the name of providing the cure, and general chaos because everyone and anyone is given room to “express” themselves ignorant of rules and orders.
Expression is not chaos, it is not cacophony that labels itself as music, it is not chicken scrawl that proclaims itself calligraphy; it is ordered and synchronised to be in perfect turn with the wheels of time.  Where we erred when it comes to finding the right form of expression; we should find the right formula to apply and stick to it at all costs.

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An open letter to President Hichilema



Your Excellency,

I am certain that you are wondering where and/or how I have the temerity to write to you directly, but a recent post you put on WhatsApp piqued my interest; your meeting with His Excellency the Prime Minister of Lesotho, and his delegation. The delegation came to introduce to you and your good office the candidate of the Government of Lesotho, for the post of Secretary General of the Commonwealth, Joshua Setipa.

Let me set off by stating that I have a friendship with Setipa, for over 50 years, so I may not be the best person to give an objective appraisal or opinion of him; this I will leave to the government.

Further to that, as a citizen of Lesotho, I may embellish the information that I would provide on Lesotho, thus I will as far as possible keep to information that is contained in books. This is not a research report, but more a simplified literature review of what I have read. I shall not quote them, or reference them, thus allowing others the space to research this matter further.

First, let me state my surprise at the alignment of time that I see; Commonwealth Day in 2024 is on the 11th March, the day we celebrate a life well lived, that of Morena Moshoeshoe.

Further to that, this year also starts the 200th anniversary of the move by Morena Moshoeshoe and his followers from Menkhoaneng to Thaba Bosiu. They arrived at Thaba Bosiu in winter, circa 1824.

Next year, 2025 will also be the 100th anniversary of the ‘plenary’ that saw the birth of this Commonwealth of Nations. A handover from the bi-centenary, to the centenary celebrations.

We are all aware that the Commonwealth was started at the Imperial Conference of 1926, but it had what I call a plenary in 1925; this happened in Maseru, Basutoland. It was held at the ‘secretariat’ building on Kingsway. The building was used as the Prime Ministers’ office after independence, more recently, and to date as the Ministry of Defence.

When King George came to visit Lesotho in 1948, to thank the country and her citizens for their participation in the Second World War, High street as it was then known, had its name changed to Kingsway.

At this plenary Britain called the ANZaC states, Australia, New Zeeland and Canada, together with South Africa. It had been only 13 years (1912) since the Basotho monarch had been asked to attend the formation of the South African National Native Conference (SANNC), whose aim was to preserve African land. The SANNC was the forerunner to the African National Congress (ANC).

With the formation of the Union of South Africa, the union wanted to engulf Bechuanaland (Botswana) Swaziland (eSwatini) and Basutoland (Lesotho). This had been unsuccessful.

Next they came up with the Native Land Act of 1913, to remove African land rights. So, the conference that brought about the birth of the SANNC was a pre-emptive response to this act; an attempt to keep African land rights and traditions intact.

I would like to point out that the founding document of the Imperial Conference that brought about the Commonwealth states that all member states are autonomous and not subordinate to another.

At the time of the plenary, Basutoland was subordinate to Britain. But in a masterstoke became what I believe to be one of the founders of the Commonwealth.

Despite her subordination, Basutoland had placed so strong an objection to the presence of a representative South Africa in Basutoland, that South Africa’s invitation had to be withdrawn, and South Africa did not attend. This was the first ‘anti-apartheid’ shot, made in the world; what is more important is that it was made by an African country.

No matter how one looks at it, she may not have been a ‘founding member state’, but Basutoland was part of the founding fabric of the Commonwealth.

One just has to imagine the anger of the South Africans and their government: Dr. D. F. Malan, the first Nationalist Prime Minister of South Africa, was a minister responsible for housing at that time.

Had Basutoland’s lead been followed, spatial apartheid might never have happened. The Commonwealth would take till the 1960’s, and the formal legalisation/legislation of apartheid to remove South Africa from within her fold. A matter that Basutoland saw as far back as the 1920’s.

As shown, at the conceptualisation of the Commonwealth Lesotho was not just there, but an active and formidable participant; though one has to look further to see her relationship with Great Britain/the United Kingdom.

Basutoland/Lesotho’s history is strange, to say the least. The first Europeans to arrive here in 1833, were French Missionaries. At this time Europe was embroiled in wars, which inevitably included the French and English.

But it is these same priests, most notably Casalis, who helped steer the country to Britain, and British protection. Casalis acted almost as a foreign secretary/minister of foreign affairs at that time.

The first treaty between Basutoland and England was the Napier Treaty of 1843, though it took till 1866 to solidify this treaty into a protected land.

The history of the cavalry in Lesotho, the only African cavalry south of the Sahara, is quite long. It starts in about 1825, when F. D. Ellenberger in his book ‘History of the Basutho’, states that Morena Moletsane had come across gun powder quite by mistake.

They had been raiding a missionary’s home and came across a strange powder, which they found useless, so they threw it into a fire, which ‘exploded’. Thus, to his people called European style housing, ‘Ntlo-ea-thunya’, a house that shoots. But after having his people ravaged/savaged by Mzilikazi, he sent his best warriors to work on Boer farms, and with their remuneration purchase arms and horses.

We are often told of a ‘battle of/at Berea’. My answer is that it was not a battle but a cattle raid. Its importance is not just in the battle, but in democracy. The British called Morena Moshoeshoe ‘paramount chief’, a first amongst the others. The time before Berea shows something slightly different.

As Casalis writes in ‘My life in Basutoland’, the British had demanded 10,000 head of cattle, for stock theft. A great ‘pitso’ was called and all eligible men, those who owned land, were called.

At the end of the pitso, after many votes, the citizens refused to give their cattle to pay the demand of the British. The significance herein is that there was a plebiscite, a vote. Morena Moshoeshoe lost the backing of the people and thus the vote; the British then attacked to ‘collect’ the cattle themselves.

Both Morena Moshoeshoe and Morena Moletsane were heavily involved in the ‘battle’ which was won by the strength of the Basutho cavalry. Looking forward to the gun wars, it was most fortuitous that Morena Moshoeshoe’s ally, Morena Moletsane would outlive him, till the end of the gun wars.

After annexation in 1866, in the mid 1870’s the British, citing distance and as such expense, ceded Basutoland to the Cape, which was what the Basotho had been fighting against for a long time; they wanted direct British rule. They wanted to be ruled by Mofumahali Queen Victoria.

The first, and most critical mistake that the Cape made was, not so much in attacking Morena Moorosi, accusing his son of cattle theft, but in beheading him.

So, when some years later they wanted to disarm the Basutho, and they found those of the south of Basutoland who knew of the beheading, reluctant to go with the plan. The Cape decided to go ahead with disarmament forcefully and met equal if not greater force.

The Basutho were better armed, more knowledgeable on the terrain and better supplied. Helped by his father’s long-standing ally, Morena Moletsane, Morena Lerotholi was able to field a well-armed strong cavalry, which inflict great pain to the Cape.

This led to the Cape defeat. Together with the number of other wars that the Cape was fighting, there was fight fatigue among her people.

So bad was it, that they did not come and collect their fallen troops; in Mafeteng there is a cemetery called ‘mabitla-a-makhooa’, or graves of the white men. The SA Military History Society has a ‘roll of honour’ for some of the dead, as not all were buried in Basutoland.

There are two significant outcomes of the war. In his book ‘The Mabille’s of Basutoland’, Edwin W. Smith states that there was a fact-finding mission to Basutoland by members of the Cape parliament, including Rhodes. Their conclusion was that the Basutho should be handed back to Britain for direct rule; which was the original wish of the Basutho.

As Whitehall was reluctant to take this role back, Basutoland spent a period of close to two years of self-rule. Thus it became the first African country (only?) to unshackle itself of colonial rule. And became the first African country to get the colonial rule it wanted; and re-shackled itself to Britain.

The second is how Britain agreed to go back and rule Basutoland. In his book, Rhodes Goes North, J. E. S. Green shows how the Prime Minister of the Cape went to Britain to sue for peace, and eventually agreed to give Britain 20 000 pounds per annum, of her import tax revenues to govern Basutoland.

Whilst not a founding member of the Commonwealth, Basutoland has carried her fair weight in the battle to save both the Commonwealth, and together the rest of the Commonwealth, the world at large.

Whilst SA will hype the losses during the maritime accident of the SS Mendi in the English Channel, Lesotho is less inclined to speak of the losses on the SS Erinpura. The Erinpura was sunk by German war planes in the Mediterranean Sea. Though I should say that, the prayer of the men on the Mendi would resound so well with those who lost their lives on the Erinpura.

When British Prime Minister, Sir Winston Churchill said; never was so much owed by so many to so few, I am certain he was speaking not just of the people of the British Isles, but the broader community within the Commonwealth, that stood together at this time of international need.

But having heard Sir Winston, there is a special bond of Basutoland within, and with the Commonwealth, that I would like to highlight. Apart from the ANZaC countries and South Africa, there were no air squadrons from other Commonwealth countries that I am aware of; except for Basutoland that is.

They paid for 12 or so Spitfire aircraft that would form the 72nd Basutoland, which flew in the Battle of Britain. No moSotho actually flew (in?) them, but they had been financed by the Basotho.

For all the prowess of a moSotho man with arms, in his book ‘Basotho Soldiers in Hitler’s War’, Brian Gary not only writes about the gift of aircraft that fought in the Battle of Britain, he also shows that Basotho soldiers, who were hauling various ordinances through the Italian Alps, were allowed to carry arms.

Aircraft and carrying arms for an African in World War II; Lesotho is not just a pioneer member of the Commonwealth, but a beacon.

As Lesotho many of these pioneering attributes continued. Whist South Africa was banned from sports and entertainment, Lesotho filled the gap for her. Exiles like Hugh Masekela and Mirriam Makeba were hosted for sell out concerts in Lesotho. South African interracial sports, with matches between the likes of Orlando Pirate, Wits University, Kaiser Chiefs, to name those I remember, started in Maseru.

I have touched on politics and war, sport and entertainment; let me go to superstition. It would go against what is expected of me not to go without anything superstitious.

Britain has given the world three major sporting codes. Rugby, which is dominated by the big three of New Zeeland and South Africa. Cricket, which expands from the rugby three to include India, Pakistan, most of the Caribbean states and a few African counties.

These sports are obviously ‘Commonwealth Sports’, as they are dominated, or played predominantly by Commonwealth countries. They have also given us football. This is a truly global sport, the largest sport played across the world, on all types of surfaces, with all types of round looking objects. We can’t call all of these footballs.

The last time a Commonwealth country won the World Cup it was England in 1966; the year Lesotho gained her independence.

The next World Cup is in 2026, the millennium celebrations of the Commonwealth; who will head the Commonwealth then? Will a Commonwealth team have the necessary ‘juju’ to make it?

Your Excellency, this is but a brief note on Lesotho, and it is my way of using the words attributed to Morena Moshoeshoe, when asking for protection from Queen Victoria that say; take me, and all the lice (those that are symbiotic to me) in my blanket. I do hope that these words will be of use to you as seek consensus on Lesotho and her candidate for the post of Secretary General of the Commonwealth.

Yours truly

Khasane Ramolefe

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Culture quibbles



A few weeks ago these pages carried a substantial piece by Mokhosi Mohapi titled “A reversal of our traditions and culture”, written in the form of an open letter to the government of Lesotho. The first sentence of Mohapi’s article took me by surprise, as he stated: MPs and Senators’ primary role is to protect and preserve the traditions and culture of the Basotho people. I would have thought the primary role of MPs and Senators would be to ensure that Basotho are secure (being protected, for example, from criminals), that they have adequate access to social services such as education and healthcare, that the economy is sufficiently stable to offer citizens some chance of employment, and so on. Fat chance, you might scoff.

But then I realised that Mohapi had a more specific contention in mind, as he stated: The Laws of Lerotholi were set to protect social order, traditions and culture of Basotho. Mohapi’s immediate concern is with the 2024 Estates and Inheritance Bill, which proposes radical changes to the existing order of things. (See the article in last week’s thepost, “MPs bulldoze through Inheritance Bill”, which gives a good idea of the background).

I’m aware that this Bill has provoked considerable controversy, and that is not my topic in this article. Nor do I wish to contest what Mohapi was saying in his piece — this is by no means a case of Dunton v Mohapi. But I did take note of the way the phrase “traditions and culture” kept resounding in Mohapi’s article, rather like a cracked bell, and what I want to do is open up those terms for examination.

Please bear with me as I slip aside for a moment with a little academic stuff. Back in 2006 I published an article titled “Problematizing Keywords: Culture, tradition and modernity.” For those of my readers with a scholarly bent and who might want to hunt it down, this was published in a journal called Boleswa Occasional Papers in Theology and Religion 2:3 (2006), pages 5-11. There I made a number of points I want to bring up in what follows.

The first fallacy I tackled in that article was the tradition/modernity binary — the notion that in Africa there was tradition and then, wham!, the white man arrived and there was modernity. Are we seriously to believe there were no great cities in Africa before the white man landed, that the peoples of a whole continent lived entirely in villages? Nigeria tells a different story.

Are we to believe there were no great libraries? Mali and Ethiopia tell a different tale. No writing systems? No medicine? I’m not saying that if I’m in pain I don’t prefer a dose of oramorph to an infusion made from some leaves picked off the slopes of Thaba Bosiu, but the point remains: the tradition/modernity binary is crude and crass and it’s demeaning about Africa.

We cannot get very far with simplistic ideas about where we are coming from and where we are at. And yet of course we do come from a past. I’ll quote — or, rather, paraphrase from memory, as I don’t have the work to hand — an observation made by T.S Eliot in his essay “Tradition and the Individual Talent”: We know so much more than those who came before us. But they are a large part of what we know.

But of those who came before who is it, exactly, that we know? When Mohapi repeatedly uses the phrase “the traditions and culture of the Basotho people” I take it he is thinking of the Basotho as constituted under Moshoeshoe I and the descendants of those generations.

For how much do we know about the “traditions and culture” of the various Sotho-speaking groups let’s say two hundred years before Moshoeshoe gathered them together to form the modern Lesotho state? Isn’t it likely there were significant differences between the “traditions and culture” of these groups, differences that were later rationalised or homogenised?

Two points here. First, we mustn’t forget what an extraordinary innovator Moshoeshoe was —and I guess that might be said also of Lerotholi, whose laws are the chief focus of Mohapi’s article. Second, culture is not static, it is not immutable. It evolves all the time.

For example, for how long has it been the case that adherence to the Christian faith could be said to be part of the culture of Basotho? (Or, for how long has football been part of the culture of the English? We are credited with the invention of football, but that doesn’t mean it’s been part of who we are since time immemorial).

That brings me to my next point, or a string of points, moving from England back to Lesotho. When I was a schoolboy I bought myself a copy of the book Components of the National Culture (1968) by the great British Marxist Perry Anderson. One of my schoolmasters — one of the few who didn’t like me — caught me with it and said “just the sort of book I’d expect a troublemaker like you to be reading. Just don’t show it to anyone else!”

The significant term in Anderson’s title is “components.” Culture is put together — it is an assemblage — and its components may have different sources.
That leads me on to the invention of tradition, and an example for Basotho.

I guess all my readers know Qiloane, the sandstone pillar at Thaba Bosiu the distinctive peak of which is said to be the inspiration for the shape of the traditional Basotho straw hat. Well, that notion is dubious to say the least; there were hats of the same shape from elsewhere in the region long before the Basotho got hold of the design.

Does this really matter? Well, no, because even if a tradition is invented, it still has the persuasiveness of a tradition. It’s just that knowing this might dissuade us from making big claims about the unchangeable nature and sanctity of tradition.

And the same goes for culture. I leave you with a quotation from the Ghanaian philosopher Kwame Anthony Appiah (it’s from his terrific book Cosmopolitanism: Ethics in a World of Strangers): We do not need, have never needed, a homogenous system of values, in order to have a home. Cultural purity is an oxymoron.

Chris Dunton is a former Professor of English and Dean of Humanities at the National University of Lesotho.

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The Joker Returns: Conclusion



Last week I was talking about how jokes, or humour generally, can help get one through the most desperate situations (although it’s like taking a paracetamol for a headache; a much, much stronger resort is faith). I used the example of how Polish Jews, trapped and dying in the Warsaw ghetto, used humour to get them through day by day.

A similar, though less nightmarish, situation obtains in today’s Nigeria. Conditions there are less hellish than those of the Warsaw ghetto, but still pretty awful. There are massive redundancies, so millions of people are jobless. Inflation is at about 30% and the cost of living is sky-rocketing, with the most basic foodstuffs often unavailable. There is the breakdown of basic social services.

And endemic violence, with widespread armed robbery (to travel by road from one city to another you take your life in your hands) and the frequent kidnapping for ransom of schoolchildren and teachers. In a recent issue of the Punch newspaper (Lagos) Taiwo Obindo, Professor of Psychiatry at the University of Jos, writes of the effects of economic hardship and insecurity on his people’s mental health.

He concludes: “We should see the funny side of things. We can use humour to handle some things. Don’t take things to heart; laugh it off.”

Professor Obindo doesn’t, regrettably, give examples of the humour he prescribes, but I remember two from a period when things were less grim. Power-cuts happened all the time — a big problem if you’re trying to work at night and can’t afford a generator.

And so the National Electric Power Authority (NEPA) was universally referred to as Never Expect Power Always. And second, for inter-city travel there was a company called Luxurious Buses. Believe me, the average Lesotho kombi is a great deal more luxurious (I can’t remember ever having to sit on the floor of one of those).

And because of the dreadful state of Nigerian roads and the frequent fatal crashes, Luxurious Buses were referred to as Luxurious Hearses.

Lesotho’s newspaper thepost, for which I slave away tirelessly, doesn’t use humour very much. But there is Muckraker. I’ve always wondered whether Muckraker is the pen-name of a single person or a group who alternate writing the column.

Whatever, I’d love to have a drink with him / her/ them and chew things over. I like the ironic pen-name of the author(s). Traditionally speaking, a muckraker is a gossip, someone who scrabbles around for titbits (usually sexual) on the personal life of a celebrity — not exactly a noble thing to do.

But thepost’s Muckraker exposes big problems, deep demerits, conducted by those who should know and do better — problems that the powerful would like to be swept under the carpet, and the intention of Muckraker’s exposure is corrective.

And I always join in the closing exasperated “Ichuuuu!” (as I do this rather loudly, my housemates probably think I’m going bonkers).

Finally I want to mention television satire. The Brits are renowned for this, an achievement dating back to the early 1960s and the weekly satirical programme “TW3” (That Was The Week That Was). More recently we have had “Mock the Week”, though, despite its popularity, the BBC has cancelled this.

The cancellation wasn’t for political reasons. For decades the UK has been encumbered with a foul Conservative government, though this year’s election may be won by Labour (not such very good news, as the Labour leadership is only pseudo-socialist). “Mock the Week” was pretty even-handed in deriding politicians; the BBC’s problem was, I imagine, with the programme’s frequent obscenity.

As an example of their political jokes, I quote a discussion on the less than inspiring leader of the Labour Party, Sir Keir Starmer. One member of the panel said: “Labour may well have a huge lead in the polls at present, but the day before election day Starmer will destroy it by doing something like accidentally infecting David Attenborough with chicken-pox.”

And a favourite, basically non-political interchange on “Mock the Week” had to do with our former monarch, Queen Elizabeth II. Whatever one thinks about the British monarchy as an institution, the Queen was much loved, but the following interchange between two panellists (A and B) was fun:

A: Is the Queen’s nickname really Lilibet?
B: Yes, it is.
A: I thought her nickname was Her Majesty.
B: That’s her gang name.

OK, dear readers, that’s enough humour from me for a while. Next week I’m turning dead serious — and more than a little controversial — responding to a recent Insight piece by Mokhosi Mohapi titled “A reversal of our traditions and culture.” To be forewarned is to be prepared.

Chris Dunton

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