Having recently captured their maiden top flight title with a game to spare in the current 2025/26 season, Lijabatho Football Club (FC) have firmly written their name in the upper echelons of Lesotho’s club football.
And tomorrow, the unthinkable will become official. The club affectionately known as “Mahala,” a nickname that once hinted at their free-spirited, underdog nature, will be draped in champions’ gold.
At Setsoto Stadium, following their final league fixture against Matlama FC, Lijabatho will hoist the 2025/26 Vodacom Premier League (VPL) trophy, sealing one of the most astonishing ascents in Lesotho football history.
The coronation comes after a season that felt less like a campaign and more like a prophecy fulfilled. Last weekend, in front of a thunderous crowd that had travelled from every corner of the country, Lijabatho delivered a performance for the ages, dismantling defending champions Lioli FC 4-0.
That emphatic victory was not merely a statement; it was a declaration of a new order. The result catapulted Lijabatho to 62 points, leaving the chasing pack, Bantu and Matlama, gasping for air, mathematically unable to surpass them with only a single match remaining. The title was theirs, with a game to spare.
To understand the magnitude of this moment, one must rewind to the not-so-distant past. Lijabatho FC, rooted in the historic cultural and educational heartland of Morija, spent years as a ghost in the machine of Lesotho’s top flight.
While traditional powerhouses traded blows for decades, Mahala toiled in the lower divisions, a little-known entity playing before sparse crowds. Their story is not one of inherited glory, but of forged steel.
The first flicker of promise ignited in 2019. Under the guidance of coach Makepe Motolo, Lijabatho secured promotion from the A Division Southern Stream with matches to spare, courtesy of a gritty 2-0 victory over Lithabaneng Golden.
The jubilation, however, was short-lived. Their debut top-flight season in 2019/20 was a brutal reality check. They flirted dangerously with relegation, ending the campaign in the murky waters just above the drop zone.
Only the unprecedented disruption of the COVID-19 pandemic granted them a reprieve, allowing the club to retain its place and, more crucially, to breathe.
In those dark days, few would have bet a single loti on a future title. But while the giants slept on Morija’s potential, a quiet revolution was taking root. The club invested in youth development and instilled a stronger organisational structure. Year by year, they climbed. They stopped merely surviving and began competing. The stubborn defensive resilience that would later define their championship run started to take shape.
But the true metamorphosis came with the appointment of a master tactician. Enter James Madidilane, the South African coach with a Midas touch. Having guided Bantu to back-to-back titles in 2016/17 and 2017/18, Madidilane knew the terrain of pressure. He arrived in Morija with a vision and a voice of steel.
“It was a very tough journey for us because the manner in which we started is not the way one would have wanted,” Madidilane reflected after the Lioli demolition, his voice hoarse from shouting instructions.
“Nevertheless, I believe the team has fought very hard up until today. The credit must go to the boys because no one, I believe no one, gave us a chance to win the league. Remember after we went top after nine games, people were saying the rightful owners of that position were coming, and that pushed us to work even harder.”
Those early doubters were understandable. Lijabatho was the interloper, the village team gatecrashing a party reserved for the elite. But Madidilane forged a squad that was greater than the sum of its parts. While they lacked the star-studded roster of Bantu or the historical weight of Matlama, they possessed a spine of granite.
The attacking spearhead was the phenomenal Basotho international Tumelo Kutlang, a predator who seemed to save his most devastating form for the decisive stages. His movement off the ball and clinical finishing turned tight, tactical battles into commanding victories.
Behind him, a disciplined defensive block, drilled relentlessly by Madidilane, frustrated even the most inventive attacks.
The 2025/26 season was a masterclass in consistency. Lijabatho did not merely win; they suffocated opponents. They turned Morija into a fortress where dreams went to die for visiting teams.
While Lioli stumbled, Bantu drew games they should have won, and Matlama blew hot and cold, Mahala simply stacked points. They refused to break.
And so, we arrive at the eve of history. Tomorrow’s fixture at Setsoto Stadium carries a symbolic weight heavier than the silverware. Matlama, the pride of Maseru, will be forced to form a guard of honour for the newly crowned champions. Regardless of the result on the pitch, the narrative is already written: Lijabatho are the kings.
The triumph is not merely about pride. It carries a golden ticket. The club will pocket M650,000 in prize money and, more significantly, earn the right to represent Lesotho in next season’s CAF Champions League. The continental stage, with its travel and tactical nightmares, awaits the boys from Morija.
“Starting from my time at Bantu, it has never been about me alone, but about the entire technical team and the players we assemble. Without a proper squad, we could not have won the league,” Madidilane added, deflecting praise.
As the final whistle blows tomorrow and the trophy is lifted into the Maseru sky, it will signal more than just a title victory. Lijabatho’s meteoric rise, from near-relegation in 2020 to champions in 2026, is a seismic shift in Lesotho’s football landscape.
It proves that the old guard can be breached. It proves that community-based teams with patience, youth development, and tactical discipline can dethrone the giants.
For Lioli, the defeat was a surrender of the crown. For Bantu and Matlama, the off-season will be filled with soul-searching. But for Lijabatho? The work has only just begun. Madidilane has already revealed that preparations for the CAF Champions League will commence immediately.
Elsewhere on the final day, the drama is thick. Bantu (58 points) face a treacherous away fixture against LMPS at PTC Ground, needing a win to secure second place. Matlama, level on points but trailing on goal difference, could leapfrog Bantu should they upset the champions.
The battle for the final top-four spot is a knife-edge affair between Lifofane (57 points) and Majantja (54 points), who meet in a winner-takes-all showdown at Sebatana Russell Technical Centre. For Majantja, only a four-goal victory will suffice to overtake their rivals.
At the bottom, the trapdoor has already swallowed Maroala FC, who were relegated after a 2-0 loss to Matlama. The final relegation spot will be decided between Members (21 points) and Liphakoe (18 points), with Liphakoe needing a miracle against Machokha and hoping Members lose to Lioli.
But tomorrow, the spotlight belongs solely to Lijabatho. From the dusty lower divisions to the summit of Lesotho football, their exponential rise is a story for the ages. And as the champions lift the trophy with a match to spare, one truth echoes louder than the vuvuzelas: The free spirits have finally captured the crown. Lesotho will never view football the same way again.
Summary
- Having recently captured their maiden top flight title with a game to spare in the current 2025/26 season, Lijabatho Football Club (FC) have firmly written their name in the upper echelons of Lesotho’s club football.
- Lijabatho FC, rooted in the historic cultural and educational heartland of Morija, spent years as a ghost in the machine of Lesotho’s top flight.
- The credit must go to the boys because no one, I believe no one, gave us a chance to win the league.
Seabata Mahao is a general news reporter with special focus on Business and Sports. Started working at Newsday in 2021. Working in a team with a shared goal is what I enjoy most and that gives me the motivation to work under any environment leading to growth.
