Inside One Organization’s Fight to Lower Lesotho's Suicide Rate

In the aftermath of the devastation from HIV/AIDS and the resulting loss of life, a generation of children and young people were left to mourn and face the world without support, navigating life on their own. Nthati Masena’s story is a poignant example of this struggle. At 5 years old, she lost her father, throwing her into a situation where she felt isolated and vulnerable.

The 28-year-old from Mahobong community village in northern Lesotho, said her mother “disappeared” after the loss. “She left me and my seven siblings in the care of my older sister, who was 18 at the time,” she tells OkayAfrica. It was a difficult situation for her sister, who became solely responsible for the seven of them. At times, they had nothing to eat, and nothing to wear. “We suffered,” Masena recalls. Eleven years later, her mother returned, but nothing changed. “It was hard for me to go to school. I was the one who took it upon myself to find a scholarship. My mother was back home, but she still neglected me. I would be on my period, and she wouldn’t even buy me sanitary products.”

Masena’s pain was most acute during her high school graduation, where she was the only one whose family didn’t show up. When she tried to talk to her mother about her feelings, she was dismissed. “On some days, I would wake up crying. I would think, why am I still living? Why shouldn’t I take my life?”

In February 2024, a friend told her about Help Lesotho, and she enrolled in their Get a Job program. “It’s a professional development program,” says Lineo Raphoka, one of four psychosocial support officers at Help Lesotho. “But we still include elements of mental health.” One of the key modules they teach is about self-esteem. “Self-esteem plays a big role when applying for a job. The way you present yourself in an interview, and once you’re on the job, matters. You need to feel confident. You need to treat people well, but you have to treat yourself well first,” Raphoka explains.

Help Lesotho currently runs 22 programs that support children, youth, parents and grandmothers, who as they age, feel neglected, suffer from dementia and sometimes face cultural isolation, like being mistaken for a witch. “In everything, mental health advancement is the goal,” says Raphoka. She has been with Help Lesotho for four years and has participated in the organization’s in-depth psycho-support training on child and adolescent development, stress management and navigating grief, anger and loss.

She acknowledges that the job comes with its challenges. “What people are going through can hit hard. It gets to you.” When the going gets tough, she reminds herself to empathize, not sympathize. To not absorb it all, but rather offer support. Help Lesotho also holds bi-monthly case management meetings, where psychosocial support officers come together to reflect and share cases that they find really challenging. “It’s like our own therapy,” says Raphoka. “We vent, we open up to one another, and then we strategize on how to deal with those difficult situations.”

This culture of sharing and peer-to-peer mentorship extends to the beneficiaries. It’s helped Masena a lot, knowing she’s not the only one with problems and knowing her problems aren’t larger than others. “I’ve found a family here in Help Lesotho,” she says.

In the last 20 years, Help Lesotho has been working to achieve its goal of “[helping] the people of Lesotho build resilience,” says executive director Kate Lambert. “It’s a multifaceted approach that entails helping communities and empowering people to create a brighter future for themselves and their families.” Since inception, the organization has graduated over 53,000 people from its programs.

“People leave our programs with markedly higher resilience scores,” Lambert says. They feel empowered as leaders in their families, schools and communities. They learn communication, decision-making, emotional expression and how to support others — skills that stay with them for life, she adds.

“We also follow up with past participants,” many of whom are now professionals leading change in their communities, whether working in government, teaching, or serving as police officers, Lambert continues. “They often share how our programs helped them make important life decisions, like choosing a respectful partner or delaying marriage until they were ready.”

Despite Help Lesotho’s impact, the journey is far from over. A lot more people are facing isolation, lack of family support, broken relationships, unemployment and gendered expectations. “A lot more people are grappling with an accumulation of losses,” says Raphoka.

A large mountain to climb, certainly, but Raphoka is undeterred. If anything, she’s optimistic. “People have come to us. They share their pain, and we’ve seen real-life results. It’s challenging work, but the reward is that I get to give back. I get to offer support to people who need it. I get to make a difference.”

Masena has also made it her mission to pay it forward, starting with the young girls and women around her. Having experienced the pain of being alone, she’s determined to help however she can. “I want to give them whatever I have.”

“What we’re doing is helping people find hope again,” says Lambert. “When people have hope, they can stay focused on the future. They can take one step at a time.”