Connect with us

Insight

Let’s just kiss investment goodbye!

Published

on

Do you know a feeling when a statement leaves more questions than answers?
This is the feeling I got a couple of months ago when I was doing my Sunday shopping at a shopping centre named The Club in Waterkloof, Pretoria. I always try to shop where the most affluent citizens do their shopping, from time to time. Well in the hope that their riches will rub-off on me.

Again, it’s always good to be in the company of affluent people. They’re always peaceful and cheerful. When you say, “morning”, they answer back with a smile say, “morning”. Ha ba bitter (they are not bitter).
Unlike shoppers you find at U-save Ha Tsolo. Jesus! When you greet them, they often slap you with a bitter answer and say, “U thusoa ka eng Ntate?” (What can I help you with Ntate?)

There was a particular Sunday, when I was given a grocery list to buy a few items and headed straight to the Club. As I drove into the basement level, I saw a red Ferrari in the rear-view mirror and thought wow!
After parking my car, I jumped out and walked close to the Ferrari to get a better view of the Italian master-piece and to my surprise, it had Botswana number plates. “What, a Ferrari with Botswana number plates?”
Yes, and the Ferrari was driven by a white young woman. You can just imagine the confusion on my face. A Ferrari, bearing Botswana number plates being driven by a white woman? This was the same confusion that I had when Kabi said he was opening a mine named Letšeng Diamonds.
As we ascended on the escalators from the basement, the white woman saw the confusion on my face as I kept looking back at the car with a confused face and had to intervene.

She then said, “No, that’s my husband’s car.” So I asked whether she’s from Botswana and she said, “No, my husband holds a Botswana passport” and she left me right there with more questions than answers.
Now, this is the same feeling I got when I saw an advert in a local Sunday newspaper by the Lesotho National Development Corporation (LNDC). I’ve never felt so confused after reading it.
The newspaper advert was in essence a statement made by the LNDC expressing concern over the exodus of investment in the textile-manufacturing sector.

Well, it’s good to express concern but there are a number of questions that were left unanswered. In the advert, it also stated that there was going to be a ministerial task-team to look into the matter of factories closing down and investors leaving the country.
But I thought what a bloody waste of time. Do you know how Lesotho Ministers are? Those Ministers will attend meetings to crunch biscuits, agree on nothing and adjourn the meetings.
Look, if an investor doesn’t find value in investing in a country, will a bunch of ministers convince him/her otherwise?

I could be wrong but my understanding is that an investor goes to the most fertile ground where it will yield the highest value or return on investment (RoI). The question is: what value does Lesotho offer over other places in the region?
I wrote this opinion piece at the back of a report that was recently published by Rand Merchant Bank (RMB) named: Where to invest Africa 2020. It rates investment destinations across the African continent from top (Hot) to bottom (weak) investment destinations.
In the report, the top five factors used in rating the countries are: access to financing, corruption, tax rates, inefficient government bureaucracy and inadequate supply of infrastructure.

Surprisingly, Egypt was on top of the list with Morocco coming second and South Africa, in third position. It looks like Egypt is fast becoming a preferred destination because of its proximity to markets and mainly because of the trade corridor named the Suez Canal.
Surprise, Surprise! Nigeria didn’t even make it in the top ten of the list. So, you can just imagine where playful countries such as Lesotho rank out of 54 states of Africa. By the way, Lesotho is ranked number 41 out of 54 states.

The question is: What competitive edge does Lesotho hold over other places/cities in the region? Why would one open a factory in Lesotho over Durban, Gqeberha (Port Elizabeth) and Cape Town? Why would an investor pour money in a place that failed to save one Spur restaurant? One!
Let’s put it this way. Given a scenario where you would suddenly receive a windfall of US$1 million, where would you invest it? The most logical answer to the question is where the US$1 million would yield the highest return.

Now, given a set of variables present in Lesotho, would the US$1 million yield the highest return? Some would say, Comme-ci, Comme-ca! (Maybe, maybe not)
I would argue and say there are more variables an investor needs to consider over and above the return on investment (RoI).
The most obvious factors are economic and political stability. Access to land and services, public safety but one of the most important factors that Lesotho often overlooks is access to good schools and quality education for investors to educate their kids.

Why would an investor overlook Cape Town or Durban that have excellent schools and go to a place that has substandard schools for their kids? Start with schools if you want to attract investors. Otherwise, where will their kids go to school? Good quality education equals good quality investment.
Let’s be honest for a change and stop setting up ministerial task teams that will yield no returns. Lesotho is not fertile enough for investment for various factors. Let’s take a simple factor such as the border post issue.

Why would an investor wait for imported material or supplies at the Durban port and have to incur transport costs to transport material about 600km inland? Wait for a day at the border post? Then manufacture goods and have to wait another day again to cross the border into South Africa. Time is money in manufacturing. Every second counts.
The recent strike action and salary hikes have also not helped the situation. They have made Lesotho uncompetitive. What have the unions got to say now?

I remember seeing one union boss/steward (the instigators of this exodus) on LTV asking the government to intervene over the mass exodus of factories and I said this must be a joke. You encourage workers to strike and run to government for intervention.
Yes the salaries are low but half a loaf is better than nothing. In Sesotho we say, Sejo-senyane ha se fete molomo.
I wrote this piece again out of knowing the frustration of doing business in Lesotho. I must say, this is by far one of the toughest business environments to conduct business in. Again, our chamber of commerce and industry is not helping the situation. Hello Ntate Fako!

I mean, opening a simple business bank account in Lesotho is a real nightmare. I say this because I recently opened a business account in South Africa on an app and a few hours later, the account was opened.
A consultant called me on the phone to verify a few things and I was good to go within 10 minutes. Two days later, my business ATM card was delivered.
In closing, as I said last week, the only reform that needs to happen has to do with our stinking attitudes and poor mind-set.

Investment won’t pour into Lesotho but will keep on leaving mainly because of the volatile political situation and an unfriendly business environment.
Let’s fix our politics and consider turning Lesotho into a tax haven. Mauritius has gone that route and yielded tons of dividends. We have already lost everything and that could be the last resort to attract investment. Let’s do it!

‘Mako Bohloa

Continue Reading
Advertisement

Insight

Shining Like Stars: Part One

Published

on

Last week, in a piece titled “Hope Springs Eternal”, I wrote about the relative values of (leftist) political commitment and Christian faith in a world that is beset with violence, poverty and oppression. Now I’m offering a review of a book by Lindsay Brown titled Shining Like Stars: The power of the gospel in the world’s universities, which explores the work of evangelical students in propagating the Christian faith in some of the world’s most dangerous countries, such as Columbia, China, Russia, Sudan and the DRC. Countries where despair seems to be a pretty rational response to the lives that huge numbers of people are forced to lead. I shall concentrate on cases where that effort to spread the Christian faith is allied to a commitment to agitate for better political and social conditions.

As an aside, I begin by quoting Will Shoki, editor of the invaluable online opinion journal Africa is a Country. I know I’ve mentioned him at least once in previous weeks, but that is because they are so good. In a piece Shoki wrote for the edition of March 4th this year, he records the Marxist philosopher Slavoj Zizek’s reference to “the courage of hopelessness”, whereby “it is only when we despair and don’t know anymore what to do that change can be enacted.” Shoki adds: “I have never been quite sure what this means — in fact, I have never been quite sure what Zizek means about anything.” Which is to say, Zizek is a pretty difficult read, but his work is a nut it’s well worth cracking.

Be that as it may. Let us turn again to the question how, in a harsh world largely run by greedy, selfish, murderous brutes, a dedication to the message of the gospels and a commitment to political and social transformation can be a joint life-saver.

Lindsay Brown, the author of the book I’m reviewing, was for many years General Secretary of the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students (IFES). Towards the end of his book there is an Appendix in which he lists around 150 student organisations worldwide that are affiliated to IFES. Many countries where IFES-allied groups have a strong presence are only nominally Christian, many others (for example, China and the Gulf States) are hostile to the gospel. In Lesotho — where neither of these impediments holds — the relevant body is called the Scripture Union of Lesotho, Tertiary Ministry (SULTM); as Brown’s book doesn’t touch on Lesotho, I’d be very interested to hear from my readers about the activities of SULTM.

The first chapter of Shining Like Stars is titled “Never Underestimate What Students Can Do.” This begins by recounting the story of Daniel and his three fellow captives in Babylon under the tyrant Nebuchadnezzar, the story that ends with three of the young Jews being saved by their faith when they are cast into the burning fiery furnace. Then there are reminders of the long history of evangelism in western Europe, followed by the observation: “world mission is less and less about westerners going elsewhere to serve Christ, but about believers from everywhere going everywhere . . . for example, during the twenty years of civil war in Chad its displaced students, sent by the government to study in other countries, founded IFES movements in Niger, Mali, Côte d’Ivoire, Senegal and Burkina Faso.”

One of the first of many testimonies the book contains is, however, from a female British student of Russian, identified simply as Elizabeth, who travelled as an evangelist to one of the -stan countries, former Soviet republics of Central Asia (which of the former -stans this was isn’t specified). It was a perilous but highly successful mission. Elizabeth records: “My birthday was fun. I had five cakes and three parties. They really know how to make cakes here!” Not much peril involved in that, you might say. But then Lindsay Brown notes that many sensitive words in Elizabeth’s testimony have the letter “x” inserted in them and explains that this was to escape electronic surveillance.

And so it seems being an IFES evangelist can be a bit like being James Bond, except more graceful. The second chapter in Brown’s book is titled “Our Sovereign God and Human Courage” and that’s where I’ll pick up the story next week, as well as detailing the activities IFES evangelists organize to attract students to the gospel. And then — after all, the chief focus of this piece — how they strategise evangelical work in relation to the advocacy of political and social transformation.

To be concluded

Chris Dunton

Continue Reading

Insight

Hope springs eternal

Published

on

Given the abysmal state of the world today, what is it that keeps one going? I mean, just look at the mess we’re in. The cowardice of world leaders faced with the challenge of climate change —world leaders most of whom are, of course, in thrall to capitalism (for when it comes to our mismanagement, that’s what really rules the roost). The appalling violence in Ukraine and the Middle East. The apparently endless misgovernance of countries as diverse as Lesotho and Nigeria. How does one not give into despair?

Me, I have an interim resource and a vastly more profound one. The former is my commitment to left-wing socialism, a conviction that life on earth can be vastly improved by following the principles of Marxist-Leninism (not — an important qualification — the corrupt form of those principles that moulded dictatorships such as the Soviet Union). The second resource is faith in the message of the Gospels, the embracing of our Lord Jesus Christ. For with this, the ills of the world pale into insignificance. Which is not — I absolutely insist — to refuse the responsibility of political commitment to ease the suffering of millions on earth, a duty we have while we’re still stuck on the bloody place.

Of those two resources, one allows a limited, constrained kind of hope, the other a hope that is boundless.

To expand on the notion of hope, recently in these pages Bishop David Ramela quoted the great Czech author and political leader Vaclav Havel, who became President of his country after resisting Soviet oppression in acts of dissidence for which he was imprisoned. Havel, as quoted by Bishop Ramela, wrote: “I am not an optimist, because I am not sure that everything ends well. Nor am I a pessimist, because I am not sure that everything ends badly. I just carry hope in my heart . . . I am thankful to God for this gift. It is as big as life itself.”

Hope as distinct from optimism? Well, a couple of references here. First, the great Italian Marxist Antonio Gramsci (like Havel, imprisoned for his beliefs, in his case by Mussolini’s Fascists) wrote of the need to maintain “pessimism of the intellect, optimism of the will.” In other words, any reasonably intelligent person knows that things are going to screw up, but must act as if this were not the case. And another Marxist, the British critical theorist Terry Eagleton (the mentor of your columnist, incidentally, when he was an undergraduate — and ever since) has written a fine book, Hope Without Optimism. I shan’t go into that here, but shall review it in this column in a few weeks’ time.

Turning to the relationship between political commitment and the Christian faith, the evangelist preacher Robert Sheehan once commented: “Many Christians put more weight on political programmes and economic packages than on the power of the gospel in the nation. Do you?” The answer, I would hope, is “no”, but “quite a lot of weight all the same.” And I’m going to sign off this week with a lengthy quotation from the New Testament—namely, Ephesians 2: 14-22—which has to do with the relationship, in the time of Paul’s evangelism, between Jews and Gentiles. It is a passage — to refer to my piece some weeks ago on the Gaza crisis — that one would like to read to the Hamas leaders in Palestine and to Israeli leader Binyamin Netanyahu before banging their heads together.

“For He Himself is our peace, who has made both one, and has broken down the middle wall of separation, having abolished in his flesh the enmity, that is, the law of commandments contained in ordnances, so as to create in Himself one new man from the two, thus making peace. And that he might reconcile them both to God in one body, through the cross, thereby putting to death the enmity. And He came and preached peace to you who were afar off and to those who were near. For through Him we both have access by one Spirit to the Father. Now, therefore, you are no longer strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, having been built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief cornerstone, in whom the whole building, being fitted together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord, in whom you are also being built together for a dwelling place in God in the Spirit.”

Joining, harmony, hope.

Chris Dunton

Continue Reading

Insight

Reading and emotion

Published

on

What does a good piece of writing do? How does a piece of writing evoke emotions in you? Well, reading is a good art that can stimulate and sharpen our sensibilities. In this instalment we focus on the emotional journey triggered and enabled by good literature. While other books may educate us and sharpen our cognitive abilities, that is the abilities to think and solve problems, reading literature of fiction does more; it stirs our emotions and sharpens our affective capacities.

By affective capabilities, we refer to the abilities to feel and tune in to our emotions and sensibilities. Life, after all, is not only about heart facts and reason. Life is about feeling and experiencing and the ability to put ourselves into other people’s shoes. Reading literature is so liberating and humanistic! Reading art in all its many genres grounds us in the varieties of human experiences and engenders in us tolerance, understanding and empathy.


Stories have a way of taking us on journeys real and imagined which stories transform us from the inside. These stories allow us to visit far-flung places and meet new people and feel their environment. Art has a way of mending bridges because through stories we come to understand people who may seem different from us. And at times we may have felt hatred and dislike for them and their way of doing things. But through reading about them, we hear their stories. We experience that which they are experiencing. We begin to see them from the inside out, and we get to know what lies underneath their skin, so to speak. That’s why they say that we can only begin to make sense of the world once we have reduced the whole world to stories. Let’s write a small story together and ascertain how it would move us. Let’s go.


“He trudged on thinking how he would approach Mwandionesa. Her warm and coy smile flashed before his eye.


Slowly mustering up a morsel of self-belief, Themba trudged along the battered, winding road in the heart of a thicket of musasa trees in the Musirizwi enclaves in Chipinge, south-eastern Zimbabwe. Like a heavy burden, a gnawing sense of failure nibbled at his conscience and a sense of uselessness clung on the air with unrelenting defiance. The stain of failure, the feeling that his people and he were inconsequential had taken lodging in his entire being. That is why he found a sense of solace only from isolating himself in his flimsy cocoon of loneliness like the proverbial ostrich which buried its head in the sand. He would have an occasional home-brewed beer called chikeke and thereafter lock himself within the labyrinth and sordid visceral being.


A gaunt bird flew overhead and he heard its flapping feathers amidst the thickening doom and darkness. “Bird”, he retorted to its presence, “what would you do if you were ever crushed by the label of failure.” A soft, warm tear tricked down the rugged terrain of his face. “Makauyo went to Egoli and returned without a name to himself, Khuyumani, too, lies buried in the bowels of the soil with nothing to show” he said as if he were speaking to the bird.


As he touched the cold handle of the door to his heart clutching a small, whimpering puppy in a cardboard box, he could hear the breathing of Mwandionesa and her stabbing, moist eyes asking him without a word where he has been for the last three days. He stood for a moment which seemed like an eternity. With false bravado, he mustered a not-so-convincing, frail knock. Mwandionesa, heavy with child, slowly made for the door and slid it open. Themba did not know what to do. He loved her but he did not know how to express it, like a person bereft of a language. Mwandionesa rummaged her pots on the dying embers of a hearth and gave him respectfully a plate with sadza and a small portion of chicken. A tear escaped-one, two, and another! She broke down, a downpour of tears streaming down her lips. “Themba, ngendaa yei weidaro mwamuna wangu? Indaa yei ndiripe Dube? Indaa yei weiita mukuba wekunzerereka kungaitei imbudzi irikumakaba isina unousha?” (Themba, why do you treat me in a manner? Why do you behave as if you are a stray goat without a shepherd? If I have wronged you I am prepared to appease you”).


“Look at me, Themba,” she demanded as a visibly pregnant and swollen stomach bulged through her threadbare blouse. The puppy whimpered plaintively. With hesitation Themba went to where Mwandionesa stood. With his furrowed labour-weary hands he touched her waist and led her to their mat of reeds made of “umhlanga” as she was fond of referring to reeds. She did not protest. A glow, a faint glow burnt in her eyes as she eased comfortably on his lanky chest. She fumbled for his hand and shepherded it to the lower regions of her belly and said, “He was kicking all these days you were away.” Themba was engulfed in a flurry of emotions; guilt as well as pride. With deliberateness, Mwandionesa said, “this boy will be called Thando. Yes Thando. He will build this homestead and more should you feel that you don’t have a home.” Themba nodded in agreement.
Themba began to feel the warmth of her presence as her succulent breasts pressed against his lanky chest and slowly closed his eyes…”

What a gripping tapestry which evokes a lot of emotions! It’s a story that stirs a lot of emotions; from empathy, sadness and an inner glow in the heart at the end. As the story begins, we feel Temba’s struggles, fear and hopelessness. He seems to be carrying a huge emotional burden and a crushing sense of defeat. I hope you have also seen Temba’s bid to reassert his sense of being and purpose through his desire of caring for a puppy – we could actually feel it whimpering. And the new hope ignited at the end of the story and affirmations of hope and new beginnings! The birth of a child always brings with it new beginnings – hope springs eternal!
So here we are! Stories are so humanising. Learning to read art in all its genres evokes emotions in us. It sharpens our affective side and warms our hearts.

Vuso Mhlanga teaches at the University of Zimbabwe. For almost a decade and half he taught English language and Literature in English at high school. Send your comments and questions to: mhlangavuso85@gmail.com

Continue Reading
Advertisement

ADVERTISEMENT

Advertisement
Advertisement

Trending