When I first joined Lesotho Tech Academy, I came with a diploma in Public Relations and a hunger to apply what I learned. My first week was during student orientation. I remember a shy girl named Palesa who barely made eye contact. I decided to sit with her and just talk—no forms, no instructions, just connection.

A few days later, I saw her speaking up in a group activity, laughing. That moment made me realize: my job is not just PR—it’s being a voice and a bridge between students and the institution. I manage social media, yes, but behind every post is a real learner with dreams. This school has allowed me to grow not only professionally but emotionally. I'm not just an employee—I’m part of a transformation journey for our youth.

People think administration is just paperwork. But at LTA, it’s personal. Every file I touch is someone’s future. I recall a young man who came all the way from Quthing with nothing but a backpack and a dream to become a web designer. His documents were incomplete, and he had no email address.

Instead of turning him away, I helped him open an email, guided him through registration, and followed up until he had all his forms submitted. Months later, he passed his WordPress course with flying colors. He came back and said, 'Miss Selongoana, if you had turned me away that day, I would’ve given up.'

Moments like these remind me why I do what I do. I’m not just keeping order—I’m opening doors.

Before joining Lesotho Tech Academy, I had completed my degree in Software Engineering and earned a few cybersecurity badges online. I knew the theory—but I hadn’t yet seen the impact of sharing that knowledge.

In my first class, I met a student who barely knew how to install a browser. He was frustrated, always thinking he wasn’t cut out for IT. Instead of rushing through content, I decided to mentor him personally. I told him, 'Coding isn’t magic. It’s just instructions—and you're the one giving them.'

Weeks later, he built a basic but functional login system using HTML, CSS, and JavaScript. When he showed it to the class, the pride in his voice was unforgettable. Today, he’s helping others troubleshoot bugs during group projects.

That’s when it hit me: I’m not just here to teach syntax and systems. I’m here to build confidence—line by line, project by project. Lesotho has the talent. They just need someone to believe in them.