A Mosotho dies and is given a choice. He is allowed to spend two weeks in hell and another two weeks in heaven before deciding where he wants to live.
He decides to start with hell and chooses a village of fellow Basotho. It didn’t take him long to discover what Basotho were doing to each other in hell.
They were in hell but some were devising ways to create a hell of hell for fellow Basotho.
They were begging for more firewood from the Devil to burn each other.
Some were asking the Devil for mining permits. Not to mine diamonds or gold but for coal with which to burn their countrymen.
Others were busy plotting and scheming. Not to topple the Devil but each other.
Within two days the man had seen enough and quickly requested a transfer to heaven.
There, he requested to join another village of Basotho. But he was soon shocked because some people were scheming to turn heaven into hell to fix their countrymen.
Others were plotting and scheming to send others to hell. It was not enough that they were in heaven. They could only feel the comfort of heaven if other people were evicted to hell.
Others were jealous that some Basotho had been granted a place in heaven.
They wanted to rejoice in the misery of others. The man is now back in Lesotho as a ghost, roaming around our villages because he could not decide where to live.
That is the story of who we are as Basotho. We are vile, vindictive and cruel to each other.
We don’t need foreigners to do bad things to us. We are capable of doing wicked things to ourselves with distinction.
The last time we had any semblance of being good to each other was during Moshoeshoe’s time. And even with that, it can be argued that we united and collaborated out of the fear of Boers and
Zulus who wanted to wipe us off the face of the earth.
Hundreds of years later, we are still at war among ourselves.
Pulling down each other with gusto. Killing each other with verve. We still greet each other with a declaration of peace as if we are in a war zone. Khotso! Ha e lale!
And you have to say that with your palms open so that we know you are serious about peace.
If you say it with clenched fists we might suspect you are holding a stone, an okapi or a razor.
Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!
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