A silent crisis in the mountains

Thaba-Tseka’s battle against festive violence and a cycle of despair


LIAPENG RALIENGOANE


THABA-TSEKA –
As migrant workers return home in rural Lesotho, domestic abuse and sexual violence spike, but grassroots education and United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA)-backed initiatives offer a fragile hope.

In the mountains of Thaba-Tseka, a district of stark beauty and profound isolation, a silent epidemic of violence and fear is festering.

The festive season, a time meant for family and celebration, instead unveils a recurring tragedy of domestic abuse, sexual violence, and Early and Unintended Pregnancies (EUP) that community leaders and police are struggling to contain.

For the remote villages nestled in these rugged terrains, the return of migrant workers from South Africa often acts as a trigger, unleashing pent-up tensions over finances, infidelity, and a critical lack of awareness about sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR).
“December and January are our most volatile months,” confirms Detective Lance Sergeant Lintle Mankoe of the Thaba-Tseka police.

“Emotions run high. Those who work in South Africa miss vital SRHR education during community hearings because they are away most of the year. When they return, disputes erupt over how money was used, and sometimes they discover infidelity, which leads to violent confrontations.”

According to police statistics, the scale of the problem is stark. In the entirety of 2024, the district recorded 276 cases, including 32 sexual offences and 80 assaults. Just partway into 2025, the numbers are already alarming, with 33 sexual offences and 12 assaults among 172 reported cases, indicating a troubling trend.

The violence is twofold. While domestic conflicts spike in homes, an equally alarming rate of sexual offences, particularly against children under 15, persists year-round. Detective Lance Sergeant Mankoe points a sobering finger at one of the most vulnerable and isolated groups – herd boys.

“Most of the perpetrators are herd boys,” she states. “Many are school dropouts who live isolated lives in the mountains, without guidance or exposure to positive behaviour. They grow up in an environment where discussions about consent, sexuality, and respect for women are almost non-existent. We see the devastating consequences of that gap.”

She recounts a harrowing case that still haunts her – a woman brutally raped and strangled by her neighbour, left for dead and even declared deceased by her family and a mortuary worker.

“While her mother-in-law waited for the burial home’s vehicle, she suddenly woke up,” Mankoe says, describing the incident as miraculous. “Her survival helped us identify her attacker. If she had died, no one would have known. Because she lived, justice was served.”

This case was a turning point, solidifying Mankoe’s belief that policing alone is not the solution.

“We realised we cannot police our way out of this problem. Education is key. If young men understand consent, respect, and sexual responsibility, we can prevent many crimes before they happen.”
Acknowledging that a multi-faceted approach is needed, the district has rolled out interventions in collaboration with police, development partners, and the courts. A cornerstone of this effort is the partnership between the police and Help Lesotho, financially and technically supported by the UNFPA.


UNFPA, the UN’s sexual and reproductive health agency, has a mission to deliver a world where every pregnancy is wanted, every childbirth is safe, and every young person’s potential is fulfilled. In Lesotho, this translates into direct support for government efforts to expand access to quality, integrated, and youth-friendly SRHR services.

The initiative targeting herd boys and other marginalised youth is a prime example of this mission in action. Financed by UNFPA, the programme focuses squarely on preventing violence by promoting respect, consent, and comprehensive awareness about reproductive health.

It aims to dismantle the toxic norms that lead to gender-based violence and EUP.

“We were sensitised on good behaviour and HIV prevention and also taught how to avoid crime,” says Morero Leqela, a herd boy who attended a Help Lesotho community training in June. “Our eyes were opened on the steps to take if employers fail to pay us. We learnt about the importance of consent in sexual activities and how to use condoms and contraceptives correctly.”

Leqela’s testimony underscores the transformative potential of this education.

“I didn’t know much before,” he admits.

“Now I understand that respect and communication are part of being a man.”

Beyond immediate SRHR education, Help Lesotho’s programmes, bolstered by UNFPA’s support, also encourage herd boys to return to school or join vocational training, offering them a lifeline out of isolation and a first opportunity to envision a future beyond the mountains.

Despite these promising efforts, formidable challenges remain. Thaba-Tseka district Administrator, Tlali Mphafi, highlights how the district’s majestic but imposing mountainous terrain is a major obstacle.
“Some villages are several hours apart on horseback or by foot. That isolation means information about SRHR and gender equality does not spread easily,” Mphafi explains. While government and partners push outreach through schools, churches and local gatherings, myths and stigma persist.

He delves into the deep-seated cultural beliefs that fuel early and unintended pregnancies.

“Some parents still believe contraceptives make girls barren, so girls end up falling pregnant to prove their fertility and qualify for marriage,” he says.

“This kind of thinking traps families in cycles of poverty and gender inequality.”

This aligns with UNFPA’s broader mandate in Lesotho, which is to not only prevent maternal deaths and EUP but also to reduce new HIV infections and eliminate gender-based violence and harmful practices by tackling their root causes.

Both Mphafi and Detective Lance Sergeant Mankoe acknowledge that the fight is far from over. Limited resources, inaccessible terrain and resistance from traditional structures continue to hamper progress.

“It takes more than the police or Non-Governmental Organizations,” Detective Lance Sergeant Mankoe asserts. “We need chiefs, churches, parents and young people themselves to take ownership of this issue. It is a collective responsibility.”

Mphafi echoes this sentiment, calling for a unified community front, saying “we must deal with these challenges as a community. SRHR education, open dialogue, and consistent law enforcement are the only ways to build safer, stronger families.”

The work continues – a slow, arduous, but vital process of healing and education. It is a battle fought one survivor, one classroom, one herd boy and one village at a time, with the support of global partners like UNFPA providing the crucial tools for change.

The Thaba-Tseka mountains have hidden the crisis for too long; now, the collective voice of a community and its allies is determined to be heard.