According to some of the earliest European writings on South Sotho cultures, the social role of women was one of labor and servitude and was often looked upon with great sympathy by nineteenth-century observers. Eugene Casalis, one of the pioneering Paris Evangelical Missionary Society (PEMS) members to settle in present-day Lesotho, noted that gender kept women in a state of dependence in Sesotho society, relegating them to a position “nothing better than servants, although they do not bear the name ... They till the ground with their own hands, go themselves to draw water, provide themselves with fuel, and, when their lord undertakes any labour of importance, they supply the place of workmen” (Casalis 1997:188–89). While gendered responsibilities are certainly a norm in Sesotho society, it is worth noting that while authors such as Casalis were quick to point out the constraints of “women’s work,” they rarely spoke of the authoritative power that is so closely tied to activities within female spaces. This lack of acknowledgement regarding women’s position in South Sotho society led to Western observers consistently placing women on a lower tier in the social hierarchy and has impacted the way we understand their social and artistic contributions. However, when discussing gendered roles with South Sotho individuals during my fieldwork from 2007 through 2010, a much different point of view was revealed.1 In fact, when given a voice in their own art historical representation, Basotho individuals disclosed a covert world of female power and authority that is widely feared and respected. To sum it up, South Sotho oral historian Tsatsi Motloung explained, “Women of the Basotho are too dangerous. They are too tjhesa (hot).”2 This same sense of female power is expressed in the visual arts produced by women, which often assist in the mediation of social stability. By examining the use and context of such art forms, one can gain insight into the position of women as advocates in Sesotho society and understand how the lives of these “hot women” demonstrate a balance of power that is anything but mundane. While the concept of “hotness” and “coolness” among African peoples has been addressed by scholars from various disciplines for well over a century, it was perhaps best articulated by Robert Farris Thompson in his 1966 essay “An Aesthetic of the Cool,” in which the hot/cold dialectic was linked with balance, equilibrium, stability, and control, or the lack thereof (Thompson 2011:6). While Thompson’s essay addressed music and performance as a point of departure for this discussion, one finds similar applications of this notion among Sotho speakers as it relates to the health and social harmony of society. For example, “coolness” (pholo) denotes an ordered state of euphoria among both corporeal and incorporeal substances, and “hotness” (motjheso) is linked to a state of disorder among such substances, brought about by various forms of contamination (Pauw 1960:34).3 Although this hot/cold paradigm is found among the ethos of numerous southern African cultures, the shared relationship between all physical and immaterial entities among the South Sotho is best understood through the notion of seriti.4 In essence, seriti can be defined as an energy or force present in the living world (Setiloane 1976:40–43).5 It is found in all components of the cosmos, and an entity’s seriti can be strong or weak, and can equally be strengthened or weakened. In the case of an individual, it extends beyond one’s self and affects one’s household, livestock, and crops. Accordingly, one of the key concepts for a successful life is the maintenance of seriti. If this harmony of nature is disrupted, it adversely affects an individual and his or her surroundings. As theologian Gabriel M. Setiloane explains, “It is as if each person were a magnet, creating together
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