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The Laws of Lerotholi: Laws Left by Lesotho's Old Grandparents So, Laurence Juma wrote a paper about Lesotho’s famous "L...
13/06/2026

The Laws of Lerotholi: Laws Left by Lesotho's Old Grandparents

So, Laurence Juma wrote a paper about Lesotho’s famous "Laws of Lerotholi." Sounds heavy, but it’s really a cool story about how old-school traditions got written down in 1903 and somehow still matter today. Think of it less like a dusty law book and more like a living guide to land, marriage, and who’s in charge.

[Note: Some of these laws have been replaced lately. This is just one person’s take from 2011.]

Rewind. Before Europeans showed up, Basotho people knew the rules, no paper needed. King Moshoeshoe I used the Khotla (community court) and Pitso (big public meeting). Chiefs handled disputes. No lawyers.

Then came the British. They wanted to run things but needed chiefs on their side. Their solution? "Keep your customs, but we’ll watch." That meant writing everything down; helpful and messy at once.

The written collection became the Laws of Lerotholi. It covers how a chief gets their job, who gets land, and what happens if someone steals your cow or messes with marriage.

Old-school examples:

1. Letsema (Community Work Day): A chief could call everyone to work his fields. Blow it off? Fine. No questions.

2. Land: You never owned it. The community did. The chief just let you use it.

3. Marriage (old way): Section 34 says a customary marriage needs couple’s agreement, families’ agreement, and bohali (bridewealth). But life moves on. The case Makaka v Makaka said a marriage was still valid even with no bohali. Courts basically shrugged: "Yeah, times change."

That last point is the main drama. The Laws are great, but they’re over a hundred years old. Stuck in the past, maybe.

Inheritance: The old rules say the oldest son gets everything, house, land, responsibility. But that feels unfair to women now. Courts and human rights folks are pushing back.

Big example: Griffith v Griffith (the Regency Case). A chief died. Could his widow become regent? The Laws of Lerotholi would say, "Give it to a male relative." But the court said, "Actually, maybe she can." Judges don’t treat the Laws like holy scripture, just good evidence of tradition.

So what status does it have? The Laws were never fully voted on by Parliament. In court, they matter, but if Parliament passes a new law that conflicts, the new law wins.

Juma’s big point: writing traditions down freezes them. Real customs change like fashion. But once you write "eldest son inherits everything" in 1903, it’s hard to update. Tricky for women’s rights and modern fairness.

Bottom line: The Laws of Lerotholi are a double-edged sword. They keep Basotho history alive, good thing. But they can also slow progress and clash with equality and human rights.

Source: Laurence Juma, 2011

Source: The Laws of Lerotholi: Role and Status of Codified Rules of Custom in the Kingdom of Lesotho by Laurence Juma, 2011

Meet siPhuthi, the New Official Language of Lesotho 1. Gi-ya-ku-tshádza : I like/love you. 2. Gi-visísá sí-Goní ká-nci t...
12/06/2026

Meet siPhuthi, the New Official Language of Lesotho

1. Gi-ya-ku-tshádza : I like/love you.

2. Gi-visísá sí-Goní ká-nci téjhe : I understand just a little Xhosa.

3. Gi-ya-w(u)-tshádza m(ú)-ti wh-ákho lóm(u)-tjhá : I like your new homestead.

4. Gi-ya-yi-tshádza mú-ti yh-ákho lémi-tjhá : I like your new homesteads.

5. Gi-ya-si-visísa sí-Goní : I understand Xhosa.

6. Gi-ya-yi-tshádza í-dlhu yh-ákho lé-tjhá : I like your new house.

7. Gi-ya-ti-tshádza tí-dlhu t-ákho lé-tjhá : I like your new houses.

8. Si-ya-yí-mabha í-bhîtá yh-ákho lé-kgúlú : We carry your big pot [regularly].

9. Si-yi-mábh-iye í-bhîtá yh-ákho lé-kgúlú : We are carrying your big pot [right now].

10. Si-ya-tí-mabha tí-bhîtá t-ákho léti-kgúlú : We carry your big pots [regularly].

11. Si-ti-mábhiye tí-bhîtá t-ákho léti-kgúlú : We are carrying your big pots [right now].

12. Ito lakha: Come here

13. Ku-ya-nqadza lakha kha(ha)dle: It is cold outside here

Picked from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phuthi_language

In Sesotho, "bana bana bana le bana" means "these young people have children" 🤷‍♂️
11/06/2026

In Sesotho, "bana bana bana le bana" means "these young people have children" 🤷‍♂️

From Sesotho as “Eastern Se-tshuâna” to Setswana as “Western Sesotho”! Let’s talk about one of Southern Africa’s most un...
11/06/2026

From Sesotho as “Eastern Se-tshuâna” to Setswana as “Western Sesotho”!

Let’s talk about one of Southern Africa’s most underrated language dramas. It involves Sesotho, Setswana, and Sepedi; three closely related languages that have been labelled, shifted, and relabelled over time. The plot twist? Early scholars used to call Sesotho “Eastern Se-tshuâna.” Later on, Setswana got rebranded as “Western Sesotho.”

So what happened?

Did the languages switch places overnight? Not exactly. It’s more about who was writing things down, where they were standing, and what they decided to call what.

Back in the 1800s, missionaries and linguists weren’t obsessed with drawing hard lines between languages. They saw the Sotho-Tswana varieties as one big, flowing family, more like a dialect line than separate boxes.

Wilhelm Bleek, a linguist, wrote in his 1862 grammar that Sesotho was basically “Eastern Se-tshuâna (Se-suto),” while other varieties were “Western Se-tshuâna.” For him, “Sechuana” was the umbrella term. Sesotho was just the eastern flavour.

Missionary Eugène Casalis, who lived among the Basotho, said the same thing in his 1861 book: “The language of the Basutos, and of all the other branches of the large family of the Bechuanas, is generally known under the name of Sechuana.” So back then, according to these guys, if you spoke Sesotho, you were basically speaking a type of Sechuana.

No drama.

No identity crisis.

Even old dictionaries back this up. Jacob Döhne’s 1857 Zulu dictionary casually defines “um-SUTU, or Suto” as “An individual of the Bechuana-tribe.” It seems the lines between “Sotho” and “Tswana” were blurry.

People moved, traded, intermarried, and told stories across the same landscapes.

Later, Ellenberger (1912), noted that some dialects were just harsher or softer versions of the same speech. For instance, while he credits Bapedi as the first to carry the name “Basutu” (given by the amaSwazi in the 1700s), he called their Sesutu version harsh and crude. The Bakuena and Bafokeng, for instance, spoke what he was already calling “Sesuto of today,” which was, in his words, "softer."

So where did the split happen?

Enter the missionaries, the South African missionaries, to be exact; but this time, with pens and spelling rules.

Three different missionary groups sat down in three different regions to write down what they heard.

The Germans worked up north and shaped what became Sepedi. The London Missionary Society worked out west and developed Setswana. The Roman Catholics worked down south and standardized modern Sesotho. As Makalela (2024) puts it: “one language that should have one writing system and more readers has been divided into three different languages.”

And it gets even simpler: one author argued that Sepedi, Sesotho, and Setswana became “separate” largely because of where the missionaries were sitting. Their orthographies became the basis for school primers, Bibles, and colonial records. Before you knew it, people started believing these were completely distinct languages.

But go to a village near a border, and locals will tell you: they understand each other just fine.

By the mid-20th century, South African authorities tried to tidy things up. Between 1929 and 1961, they attempted to harmonize the varieties. Their new labels? Setswana became “Western Sotho,” Sesotho became “Southern Sotho,” and Sepedi became “Northern Sotho.” Suddenly, the umbrella term wasn’t “Sechuana” anymore; it was “Sesotho.” So what was once “Eastern Se-tshuâna” (Sesotho) was now one corner of a Sesotho world, and Setswana was reclassified as a western branch of that same Sesotho world.

That’s the reversal.

In the 1800s, Sechuana was the big tent, and Sesotho was a guest in the east. By the mid-1900s, Sotho was the big tent, and Setswana was a guest in the west.

The languages didn’t change.

The labels just flipped.
_______
If you are curious about the origin of the the three groups, Basotho, Batswana and Bapedi, check the following: https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1JhqCFXKDD/

References

1. Bleek, W. H. I. (1862). A comparative grammar of South African languages. Part I: Phonology. London: Trübner & Co.
2. Casalis, E. (1861). The Basutos; or, Twenty-three years in South Africa. London: James Nisbet & Co.
3. Cole, D. T. (1964). An introduction to Tswana grammar. Cape Town: Longmans.
4. Döhne, J. L. (1857). A Zulu-Kafir dictionary: Etymologically explained, with copious illustrations and examples. Cape Town: Pike & Co.
5. Ellenberger, D. F. (1912). History of the Basuto: Ancient and modern. London: Caxton Publishing Company.
6. Mabille, A., & Dieterlen, H. (1924). Sesuto-English dictionary (5th ed., revised and enlarged). Morija: Morija Sesuto Book Depot.
7. Makalela, L. (2021). Multilingual literacies and technology in Africa: Towards ubuntu digital translanguaging. In L. Makalela (Ed.), Rethinking language use in digital Africa. Bristol: Multilingual Matters.
8. Makalela, L. (2024). “Viewing multilingualism from a complex array of translanguaging and meaning-making practices provides opportunities for an epistemological shift from what languages look like to what speakers do with languages.” Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 42(Supplement 1), S207–S223. (As cited in the supplied document.)
9. Mojela, V. M. (2008). Language standardisation, harmonisation and the Sotho language cluster. In discussions on Sotho orthography development and language planning. (The exact source should be confirmed from the original publication.)
10. Mojela, V. M. (n.d.). A balanced and representative corpus: The effects of strict corpus-based dictionary compilation in Sesotho sa Leboa. Sesotho sa Leboa National Lexicography Unit, University of Limpopo.
11. Rakgogo, T. J. (2016). Sepedi or Sesotho sa Leboa? A sociolinguistic study. Unpublished Master's dissertation, University of Limpopo.
12. Rakgogo, T. J., & Zungu, E. B. (2021). The onomastic possibility of renaming the Sepedi and Sesotho sa Leboa (Northern Sotho) language names to restore peace, dignity and solidarity. Literator, 42(1), a1696. https://doi.org/10.4102/lit.v42i1.1696
13. Sefotho, M., Charamba, E., & Quintero, G. (n.d.). Translingualism across languages: A textual analysis of language interaction. (The full publication details are not provided in the source extract and should be verified before publication.)
14. Thom, G. M. (1887). Boers and Bantu: A history of the wanderings and wars of the emigrant farmers from their leaving the Cape Colony to the overthrow of Dingan. London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle & Rivington.

Learning and writing Sesotho (Lesotho Version) is not easy even for Basotho. Sesotho over-separates words. A simple sent...
10/06/2026

Learning and writing Sesotho (Lesotho Version) is not easy even for Basotho. Sesotho over-separates words. A simple sentence like, 'I was just trying to come" becomes "ke ne ke re ke re kea tla".

Many people, up to the highest government offices, find it difficult to know where to separate words or put them together.

For instance, do we say, " 'Na ke le mongoli oa lekhotla" or " 'Na kele mongoli oa lekhotla"? You won't believe most people get it wrong even in official documents.

Even we probably got something wrong in this conversation.

The Zulu Side of the Basotho! So, you hear “Basotho,” and your brain goes straight to blankets, pointy hats, right from ...
08/06/2026

The Zulu Side of the Basotho!

So, you hear “Basotho,” and your brain goes straight to blankets, pointy hats, right from that Mountain Kingdom in the sky. Fair enough. The Sotho-Tswana roots are definitely the main course.

But here’s the chill truth about the nation Moshoeshoe built back in the early 1800s: it’s less a pure family recipe and more of a killer mix masala.

And plenty of guests showed up speaking isiZulu.

No joke.

Here’s the deal. During the Difaqane/Mfecane, that wild, shake-everything-up period of wars, everyone was bouncing around.

A ton of Sotho-Tswana clans, Zulu, Xhosa, AmaNgwane, Amahlubi, Ndebele… whole peoples scattered for safety or a fresh start.

Basically, a lot of refugees looking for a hill to call home.

Moshoeshoe had the hill.

And he didn’t build walls. He built a kraal and left the gate wide open.

His policy? Real simple: Come through. We’ll figure it out.

And they did.

A mid-20th-century anthropologist tried to crunch the numbers. He figured old Basutoland was roughly 50% “pure” Basotho, 25% “pure” Nguni, and 25% a solid mix of both. The basis was a 1930s census.

Well, take “pure” with a big ol’ grain of salt, we’re all cousins eventually, but yeah: way more than a quarter of the nation’s bloodline traces back to the Nguni side.

Interesting side note: old studies mentioned the Nguni bunch tended to be darker-skinned, probably because the Sotho-Tswana side had more San mixture. But hey, skin tones varied.

No biggie.

Moshoeshoe himself spoke isiZulu and isiXhosa like a pro. One historian said he didn’t just tolerate the newcomers, he’d lean over the fire and chat them up in their mother tongue.

And the newcomers?

They adapted fast. Some of Dingane’s former subjects famously shrugged and said, “Not our boss anymore. We’re just Basotho now.” New clothes, new customs, new language. Same team.

Oh, and don’t forget the San in the whole mix-up. Ever wonder about those clicks in Sesotho? Thank the Bushmen who were there first, leaving their linguistic fingerprints all over the place. They intermarried plenty with the Sotho-Tswana side, too, mostly before the Nguni joined in.

These days?

Walk down a street in Maseru, and you’d never guess who’s got Zulu great-grandparents and who goes way back with the Sotho-Tswana bunch. That is, Unless someone tells you their clan name is Matebele and they specify which clan. Otherwise? Everyone speaks Sesotho. Everyone climbs that same mountain for festivals.

So the “Zulu side”, or more precisely, the Nguni side, of the Basotho is more than a dusty footnote. It’s the sound of a nation built the old-fashioned way: by a king with a curious mind and an open-door policy for anyone who needed a fresh start.

Meet Cape-Town Trained Moshoeshoe’s Son Who Helped Keep Lesotho Out of South Africa
04/06/2026

Meet Cape-Town Trained Moshoeshoe’s Son Who Helped Keep Lesotho Out of South Africa

Body Parts in Silozi (Zambia) | Sesotho (Lesotho) |  Sepedi (South Africa) |  Setswana (Botswana) 1. Head • Toho (Litoho...
02/06/2026

Body Parts in Silozi (Zambia) | Sesotho (Lesotho) | Sepedi (South Africa) | Setswana (Botswana)

1. Head • Toho (Litoho) | Hlooho (Lihlooho) | Hlogo (Dihlogo) | Tlhogo (Ditlhogo)

2. Nose • Ngo (Lingo) | Nko (Linko) | Nko (Dinko) | Nko (Dinko)

3. Eye • Lito (Meto) | Leihlo (Mahlo) | Leihlo (Mahlo) | Leithlo (Matlho)

4. Hair • Mulili (Milili) | Moriri (Meriri) | Moriri (Meriri) | Moriri (Miriri)

5. Ear • Zebe (Mazebe) | Tsebe (Litsebe) | Tsebe (Ditsebe) | Tsebe (Ditsebe)

6. Tongue • Lulimi (Malimi) | Leleme (Maleme) | Leleme (Maleme) | Leleme (Maleme)

7. Tooth • Lino (Meno) | Leino (Meno) | Leino (Meno) | Leino (Meno)

8. Neck • Mulala (Milala) | Molala (Melala) | Molala (Melala) | Molala (Melala)

9. Throat / Gullet • Mumizo (Mimizo) | 'Metso/Qoqotho ('Metso/Liqoqotho) | Mmetšo (Mmetšo) | Mometso (Memetso)

10. Hand • Lizoho (Mazoho) | Letsoho (Matsoho) | Letsogo (Matsogo) | Letsogo (Matsogo)

11. Stomach • Mba (Limba) | Mpa (Limpa) | Mpa (Dimpa) | Mpa (Dimpa)

12. Back • Mukokoto (Mikokoto) | Mokokotlo (Mekokotlo) | Mokokotlo (Mekokotlo) | Mokwatla (Mekwatla)

13. Buttock • Lilaho (Malaho) | Setono (Litono) | Morago (Marago) | Lerago (Marago)

14. Thigh • Silupi (Lilupi) | Serope (Lirope) | Serope (Dirope) | Serope (Dirope)

16. Leg / Foot • Lihutu (Mahutu) | Leoto (Maoto) | Leoto (Maoto) | Leoto (Maoto)

17. Bone • Lisapo (Masapo) | Lesapo (Masapo) | Lesapo (Masapo) | Lerapo (Marapo)

18. Body • Mubili (Mibili) | 'Mele (Mebele) | Mmele (Mebele) | Mmele (Mebele)

19. Nail • Linala (Manala) | Lenala (Manala) | Lenala (Manala) | Lenala (Dinala)

"Pride" says these are different peoples. "Reality" says, "Nope, not so fast! These are the same people kept apart by artificial boundaries."

Check: Simui, F., Tseole, T., Monare, K.D. and Muleya, G., 2020. Re-uniting a people separated by ‘artificial’ boundaries using 100 words: An autoethnography account of Malozi, Basotho and Batswana of Southern Africa. Journal of Lexicography and Terminology, 4(2), pp.28–50.

How South African Setswana Actually Sound When You Speak It
28/05/2026

How South African Setswana Actually Sound When You Speak It

Why Translating Between Sesotho And English in Courts Can Be Confusing! Researchers at the National University of Lesoth...
27/05/2026

Why Translating Between Sesotho And English in Courts Can Be Confusing!

Researchers at the National University of Lesotho (NUL): Makhetsi Makha-Ntlaloe, Teboho Reginah Mphi and Mape John Mohlomi, checked out how interpreters at the Lesotho High Court handle language hiccups during trials. They checked how interpreters' moves can mess with, or help, justice. They listened to recent audios of real cases at the High Court and this is what they found.

BORROWING

Borrowing is when the interpreter just grabs an English word and drops it into Sesotho without translating it.

Example: a judge said, "This is the position under common law…" The interpreter turned that into: "Tsena ke tse tlas'a common law…”; leaving "common law" in English instead of explaining it in Sesotho.

Same thing with "criminal procedure act”; it stayed "criminal procedure act." "Defence" stayed "defence." "Influenza" stayed "influenza."

The paper argues interpreters borrowed because they didn't know Sesotho equivalents or got tripped up by legal jargon. But the authors show that some of these terms actually have Sesotho versions: crown could be “mofapa-hlooho”, influenza could be “mokhohlane”.

The authors also mention words like "alibi" and "identity parade", which don't have easy direct equivalents in Sesotho. In those cases, paraphrasing would've worked better. For "medical evidence," they could have said "bopaki ba ngaka" (doctor's testimony).

The danger? Witnesses or accused folks who only know Sesotho might miss key ideas. Imagine a defendant hearing: "Mohlomphehi, mona re loantša Alibi." If they don't know what “alibi” means, they might answer wrong and sink their own case. The authors say interpreters should explain borrowed terms, not just copy; paste them.

OMMISSION

Omission is when interpreters leave out words or parts of what someone said.

A big example: A witness was asked if he knew his accomplice was on the run. The witness replied in Sesotho: "Ha ke tsebe, ke mo qetetse mohlang re tšoeroeng." That means: "I do not know; I last saw him when we were arrested." But the interpreter said: "I last saw him when we went to prison." The key part;" Ha ke tsebe" ("I do not know"); got dropped.

The lawyer shot back: "So you're saying you have no idea he's on the run?" The witness answered: "Sir, like I said, I don't know. The last time I saw this guy was when we were locked up in the police holding cell." But the interpreter only said: "I said I don't know." He completely left out the part about last seeing him in the holding cell.

Another example: a witness said, "Le haeba ke fositse fane ea hae, empa eena kea mo tseba. O ne a ee motseng oa ka." Translation: "Even if I got his surname wrong, I know him. He used to go to my home." The interpreter said: "I know him very well my Lord. He used to go to my home." The whole first part;" Even if I got his surname wrong"; disappeared. That changed the witness's message: he was admitting a mistake but still sure of his ID. Without the admission, the meaning shifted.

One more: a lawyer asked, "Please narrate to the court the events that led to your fatal shooting. How were you shot and where were you?" The interpreter rendered: "Hlalosetsa lekhotla h**e na le thuntsoe joang." ("Explain to the court how you were shot.") The questions about what led up to the shooting and where it happened? Gone.

The paper says omissions happen because interpreters get overwhelmed by long sentences, memory limits, or pressure. But leaving out important details breaks what the authors call Grice's maxim of quantity; giving less info than needed.

ADDITION

Addition is when interpreters add stuff the speaker never said.

Example: a judge said, "I was in no way intimidating you." The interpreter rendered: "Ke ne ke sa u tšose h**e u utloe eka joale...lekhotla ha le sa u tširellelitse." That means: "I was not scaring you so that you feel as if the court is no longer protecting you." The added bit; "the court is no longer protecting you"; the judge never said that.

Another: a witness said, "Na e be ke tla bona tje? mahlo a hana." Literally: "Will I be able to see? My eyesight is poor." The interpreter said: "I wonder if I will see because I have eye problems and I cannot read such small writings." The "cannot read small writings" part? Added by the interpreter.

One more: a judge asked a witness to speak louder: "You need to speak up so that we can hear everything you have to say." The interpreter said: "O buoe haholo uena monna, re tsebe ho utloa, oa utloa?" ("Speak loudly, you man, so we can hear you, do you understand?"). The "uena monna" ("you, man") and "oa utloa?" ("do you understand?") appear more intimidating in Sesotho than the judge intended.

The judge didn't use those phrases.

And here's one more example from the paper: a defence attorney asked, "How did you know that the accused drove your cattle from the kraal?" The interpreter added information that wasn't there, saying: "U tsebile joang h**e baqosuoa ke bona ba khannileng likhomo tsa hau ho tloha sakeng ho ea fihla thoteng moo li fumanoeng teng?”; which adds "...up to the veld where they were found." The attorney never asked about where the cattle were found.

The writers argue that additions can be dangerous because interpreters can accidentally shove their own assumptions or feelings into the testimony.

References

Makha-Ntlaloe, M., Mphi, T.R. and Mohlomi, M.J., 2023. Lost in Translation: Navigating Linguistic Challenges in Lesotho High Court Trials. Journal of Research and Innovation in Language, 5(2), pp.200–214. https://doi.org/10.31849/reila.v5i2.14201

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