By Theko Tlebere
Public dissatisfaction with the government has become a prevalent theme among many Basotho. Whether in taxis, around village fires, on social media, or during popular radio talk shows, individuals express their frustrations regarding leadership, corruption, and inadequate service delivery. This behaviour is not exclusive to Lesotho; it represents a universal response to the disparity between expectations and reality. However, in Lesotho, the intensity and persistence of these complaints point to a more profound issue, a crisis of trust between citizens and the state, underscoring the widening gap between expectations and experiences.
At its core, complaining stems from a sense of hope. Individuals voice their grievances because they believe in the possibility of improvement. A citizen who harbours no expectations will seldom feel compelled to complain. In Lesotho, however, hope has often been met with disappointment. Successive governments have pledged to provide jobs, enhance healthcare, ensure stable electricity, and establish effective local governance, yet these promises remain largely unfulfilled. When infrastructure projects are incomplete, hospitals lack essential medications and equipment, and youth unemployment is skyrocketing, complaints become the primary recourse for individuals who feel powerless within the existing system.
Social psychologists refer to this phenomenon as “learned helplessness.” When citizens come to understand that voting, protesting, or engaging in civic dialogue rarely leads to meaningful change, they resort to complaints as a means of emotional survival. Complaining transforms into an outlet for frustration and serves as a reminder to those in power that the populace is observant and anticipates improvements. Thus, this behaviour is not inherently destructive; it can signify political engagement in a context where formal participation channels are weak or ineffective. In democratic societies, complaints serve as natural political feedback, reflecting the nation’s anxieties, hopes, and frustrations.
Unfortunately, in Lesotho, this energy is often misinterpreted. When citizens express concerns about failing hospitals, corruption, or inefficiency, government officials frequently perceive these expressions as political attacks rather than authentic civic engagement. This defensive posture has become entrenched in our political culture. Questioning a minister’s decision is often equated with opposing the ruling party, and advocating for improved services can be construed as disloyalty. This tenuous relationship between the government and the governed continues to erode public trust.
Much of this defensiveness is rooted in the structure of Lesotho’s political system itself. Coalition governments tend to be fragile, prioritising survival over service delivery. People speak rapidly even before any policy can mature, even those who had a chance to make a difference are the loudest, and political instability resets development plans every time, leaving citizens feeling disillusioned. In such an environment, complaints arise not from animosity towards the government, but from a sense of invisibility. Their voices resonate in a vacuum where accountability mechanisms are weak, and institutions such as the Ombudsman or Parliament struggle to hold the executive accountable.
When formal feedback channels are obstructed, informal avenues such as radio shows, Facebook, and Twitter emerge as alternative public forums. To ensure that this culture of complaint meaningfully contributes to governance, both parties must evolve. Citizens should express their frustrations responsibly, grounding their complaints in factual information and refraining from personal attacks or the spread of misinformation. Simultaneously, the government must adopt a mindset of listening without defensiveness. Constructive criticism is not sabotage; when managed appropriately, it serves as a reflection for the government to assess its performance and legitimacy.
Countries that have successfully transformed citizen frustration into progress, such as Rwanda and Singapore, have institutionalised complaint management systems that treat public feedback as valuable data for policy enhancement rather than mere dissent. Lesotho can adopt a similar approach. Ministries should create transparent feedback platforms where citizens can submit complaints, receive responses, and track outcomes. Digital governance platforms could also be introduced to bridge the gap between citizens and policymakers. When citizens feel heard, they are less likely to complain incessantly; conversely, when they feel ignored, complaints tend to proliferate.
However, the roots of ongoing public discontent in Lesotho are not exclusively political; they are also economic and structural. The nation’s weak industrial base, limited job creation, and over-reliance on Southern African Customs Union (SACU) revenue have fostered an atmosphere of stagnation. For young people, complaining often signifies a plea for opportunity in a country where degrees no longer guarantee employment, and migration has emerged as the most viable path to survival. When a society’s economic system marginalises the majority, even the most eloquent government rhetoric can appear hollow. Thus, until economic justice and service delivery improve, public complaints will persist as a national language that must not be ignored by those in power.
To advance, both the government and citizens must rediscover the importance of dialogue. The government must listen without fear, and citizens must communicate with purpose rather than despair. Public media can play a transformative role by shifting the focus from sensationalism to solution-oriented journalism. Instead of amplifying anger, radio talk shows and newspapers can facilitate structured national conversations surrounding accountability and reform. Educational institutions should also emphasise civic education to help young people distinguish between destructive criticism and constructive engagement. Ultimately, people will continue to voice complaints about the government, and they should. Complaints are an integral aspect of democracy. They serve as a reminder to leaders that promises matter and that legitimacy must be reaffirmed daily through performance.
The challenge lies not in silencing complaints but in transforming them into dialogue, reform, and progress. A government that listens becomes stronger; a society that speaks responsibly becomes wiser. Lesotho’s democracy is young, fragile, and full of potential. Its citizens are not adversaries of the state; they are participants in its evolution. If leaders learn to interpret public complaints not as attacks but as opportunities, the tone of national discourse will shift from despair to hope, from cynicism to collaboration. That transformation begins with one fundamental act: listening. The Future is NOW!
Summary
- In Lesotho, the intensity and persistence of these complaints point to a more profound issue, a crisis of trust between citizens and the state, underscoring the widening gap between expectations and experiences.
- Complaining transforms into an outlet for frustration and serves as a reminder to those in power that the populace is observant and anticipates improvements.
- Their voices resonate in a vacuum where accountability mechanisms are weak, and institutions such as the Ombudsman or Parliament struggle to hold the executive accountable.
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