Lesotho is once again confronting the brutal reality of mob justice, a destructive, fear-driven culture that continues to claim innocent lives and tear communities apart. Too often, accusations of witchcraft, petty disputes, jealousy, or simple rumours are enough to unleash crowd violence that leaves families shattered and entire villages traumatised.
Recent court rulings have underscored a growing judicial pushback. In the Makhetha murders, the High Court issued one of the strongest deterrent sentences in years. Mathato Mafeisi, 56, received life imprisonment without parole for setting Tumane and ’Malethole Makhetha alight and crushing their skulls. Her co-accused were handed 45-year sentences each, with the judge stressing that such senseless killings demand uncompromising punishment.
The Sefikeng case now awaiting judgment reveals the same pattern of collective violence. Traditional healer Mokola Lebakeng was dragged from his home, assaulted, doused in petrol and burned alive over witchcraft accusations. Six people remain on trial, with the verdict due 5 December. Whether they are convicted or not, the fact remains: a man died at the hands of a mob, and communities continue to normalise this barbarity.
The survivors’ stories are a harsh reminder of what mob justice truly destroys. Limakatso Makhetha, left permanently disabled, woke from a coma to find her parents and sister gone. Children watched their father burn alive. Homes and livelihoods were erased in minutes. These are not simply “cases”; they are human disasters.
Mob justice thrives where fear, superstition, and frustration overshadow reason and the law. Some communities treat it as an unwritten tradition, a quick, brutal substitute for due process. But justice fuelled by anger is not justice at all. Courts, guided by evidence and fairness, exist to prevent exactly this kind of chaos.
The judiciary is now sending a strong message: participation in mob violence will bring severe consequences. Common purpose applies. Excuses will not shield anyone who joins a violent crowd.
But the courts cannot end this alone. Basotho communities must confront the deeper issues, belief in witchcraft as justification for murder, the instinct to retaliate without evidence, the ease with which crowds embrace destruction. Rebuilding respect for life and the rule of law must start in homes, churches, and local councils.
As the nation awaits the next ruling, one truth stands firm: mob justice endangers everyone. It destroys victims, perpetrators, and the moral fabric of society. Lesotho cannot afford a culture where life is disposable and anger dictates punishment.
The country must choose the rule of law over fear. The courts are rising to the task. Society must rise with them.
