Lesotho's HIV Patients Turn to Traditional Healing amid Foreign Aid Cuts

Maseru, Lesotho – In a modest, sunlit shelter on the edge of Maseru, 34-year-old Lieketseng Lucia Tjatji sits beneath a black cloth decorated with a lion’s head. Surrounding her are jars filled with traditional remedies—roots, powders, and dried herbs. These were what she now offers to HIV patients who have been cut off from critical medical supplies following the freeze in U.S. aid initiated by former President Donald Trump in February.

"I am a traditional or witch doctor," Tjatji said calmly. I have helped people, and more are coming."

Her clients are among the many struggling in a nation where poverty is widespread and HIV affects nearly one in four adults. As a registered traditional healer and also living with HIV herself, Tjatji understands the gravity of the situation. She admits that medical professionals warn patients not to combine traditional herbs with prescribed antiretrovirals (ARVs), especially those that haven’t undergone scientific validation.

However, with government-distributed ARVs now limited to three-month supplies due to funding cuts, many—including Tjatji—are left with dwindling options. "I don't want to die. I am so young and I don't want to die," she told AFP.

Traditional healing, rooted in ancestral wisdom and spirituality, has long been respected across Southern Africa. Known locally as sangomas, these healers were once viewed skeptically in the context of HIV, often attributing it to supernatural forces. But modern practitioners like Tjatji now undergo. Rigorous training and initiation before offering remedies that have been passed down through generations.

The resurgence in reliance on traditional medicine has been fueled by the near-collapse of international support. Lesotho had previously received more than $850 million in HIV-related funding from the U.S. through the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR). But as of mid-March, only 28% of that aid had resumed, leaving many essential programs—such as PrEP distribution and male circumcision—-either paused or permanently discontinued.

With Lesotho’s health ministry lacking the capacity to compensate for these losses, concern is mounting among global health experts. Jessica Justman of Columbia University warns, “Using ineffective treatment is the equivalent of not taking any treatment at all,” emphasizing the risks of opportunistic infections like tuberculosis, meningitis, and pneumonia.

Still, others advocate for the value of traditional methods. Mpho Roberta Masondo, head of the African National Healers Association, noted, "Traditional medicine plays a vital role in holistic health and community well-being." She emphasized that while ARVs remain the gold standard, herbal treatments can offer supportive care—— provided misinformation is avoided.

Back in her humble clinic, Tjatji worries that her body used to ARVs since 2003, may not respond well to alternatives. Her greatest fear is a resurgence of tuberculosis. Despite the uncertainty, she holds onto hope: "Maybe Lesotho will make a difference and produce the pills for us."