23 July 2026
Scores of disgruntled members of the SGK pyramid scheme gathered outside the office of SGK Brand Image Store, registered earlier this year by Mampoi Makhetha, who says she was duped into opening a company and bank account. Photo: Khotsofalang Koloi.
When Masentle Makara invested M1,800 (M1 = R1) in an online platform called SGK at the end of June, she believed she had found a path to financial security.
She told GroundUp she thought it “would be the beginning of a better life”. Instead, Makara, a professional counsellor, could not afford transport this month and has had to walk her 13km commute.
SGK promised scores of people guaranteed returns on investments. Participants were told to invest small amounts of money, and then tasked to watch short video ads, complete online tasks, and recruit new members to unlock their returns.
For a while, participants received the promised returns, but then the scheme abruptly stopped paying.
One WhatsApp group of almost 1,000 disgruntled participants, mostly from Lesotho and South Africa, are considering suing the people who recruited them.
The scheme itself has been described as “faceless” by Lesotho’s Financial Intelligence Unit (FIU), which has been unable to trace the money beyond a cryptocurrency payment gateway in Bahrain. The masterminds behind the scheme could be based anywhere in the world.
The FIU found that at least M8.6-million was channelled through 11 bank accounts in Lesotho and then converted into cryptocurrency. The Central Bank of Lesotho issued a warning against investing in SGK on 25 June.
Recruiters used Facebook and TikTok to sign up people. In Qacha’s Nek, a rural town in Lesotho, the congregants at one church were reportedly recruited by their pastor, who promised them they would get their money back on the same day.
Makara first heard about SGK in April from her supervisor. At first, she wasn’t convinced, remembering how the infamous pyramid scheme MMM had swept through Lesotho, South Africa, and several other African countries some years ago.
She was eventually persuaded to sign up by her mother, who had been receiving returns daily.
“Within a month, she had recovered the money she invested and continued to enjoy the returns. She kept telling me how people’s investments were multiplying,” Makara said.
She invested M1,800 on 27 June, for which her mother received a M400 referral bonus. “I spend most of my time watching or creating content without generating income. I, just like others, saw an opportunity, and watching ten videos in less than five minutes was not a biggie.”
Each morning, the SGK app tasked her to watch and rate ten short video ads, from big brands like X, Tesla and Lamborghini. By completing this, she made M60 a day and within a week, her investment had grown to M2,123.
“A thought crossed my mind – surely, Elon Musk has just been declared a trillionaire; maybe he is sharing his money with us,” Makara said. “It became my morning routine. I actually enjoyed it.”
Makara was about to upgrade her account by investing a further M6,000 but then the platform stopped functioning. Other participants had already upgraded their accounts with additional investments. Some had invested up to M80,000.
Participants were first told the platform was undergoing an audit. Then, last week, users were told to submit identity documents and pay additional “activation fees” before withdrawals could resume.
Makara was asked to pay M900. But other people who had already paid the additional fee were not able to withdraw their money. “That’s when we realised we had all been scammed,” she said.
A few days later, the app told them to pay their income tax through the scheme.
“The M1,800 I invested was my monthly transport and food budget,” she said. She borrowed M500 from colleagues to pay for transport on particularly cold days. Now, she will begin the new month already in debt.
“I would probably fall into the same trap again until I have a job that pays enough for me to live with dignity,” she said.
Her mother, who had M1,000 in her app balance when the scheme collapsed, apologised to Makara. “I told her not to blame herself. I had already accepted from the beginning that things could go either way.”
The FIU found that SGK has been operating outside Lesotho and is a pyramid scheme disguised as a digital marketing or online advertising business.
It found that the investments were deposited into numerous bank accounts belonging to unrelated people in Lesotho with the reference “SGK”, before it was rapidly transferred to other accounts, withdrawn as cash abroad, or converted into cryptocurrency.
At least 11 bank accounts received about M8.7-million in total between November 2025 and April 2026. Several accounts received more than M1-million during that period.
The bank account holders could not provide the FIU with any documentation regarding SGK’s legal status or operational legitimacy.
GroundUp has interviewed two of the account holders, who said they were recruited as “financial assistants”, and believed that they had accepted legitimate jobs, having signed employment contracts. They were paid R5,000 each a month for the past two months.
“We believed everything was legal. Our job was to receive money from Basotho and transfer it to the people who connected us to SGK,” one said. He did not know the sources of these funds and never met anyone related to SGK.
The FIU also found that the financial activity bore little resemblance to the declared income of many account holders.
According to the report, at least M2.11-million was converted into cryptocurrency through BPAY Global and Eazy Financial Services B.S.C, which operates as EasyPay.com, in the Kingdom of Bahrain. EasyPay has been listed as one of the Top25 FinTech companies in the Middle East by Forbes.
The FIU said it was unable to identify the cryptocurrency wallets or the ultimate beneficiaries who received the funds.
Mampoi Makhetha registered a company as she rose through the scheme’s membership levels and was tasked with opening an SGK store.
Some participants in the scheme registered companies in Lesotho after progressing through the scheme’s membership levels. Company registration records show at least ten companies with “SGK” in the registered name between March and May 2026.
Most of the companies had a single director and shareholder. None of the companies shares a director, but all have almost identical business descriptions related to computer consultancy, management consultancy, advertising, market research and marketing.
Scores of disgruntled members of the scheme gathered on Wednesday at the offices of one of the companies, SGK App Pty Ltd. The company’s director, Mampoi Makhetha, told them she was simply a participant of SGK.
“I joined SGK just like everyone else. I started with M600 and progressed through the different levels as more people joined. Eventually, I was given an SGK store, just as others were operating SGK stores in different districts across the country. By then, there were already SGK stores operating in South Africa,” Makhetha said.
She said that she was told to open a bank account in Lesotho “into which administration funds for the stores would be deposited”, including some other costs.
“I am not SGK, and I am not the founder of SGK. I am a member just like all of you. Like you, I am still waiting for my money. Like you, I do not know what has happened.”
The scheme also attracted high-profile public supporters. In one video, Basotho Patriotic Party leader and Member of Parliament Tefo Mapesela encouraged people to invest in SGK.
But after the scheme collapsed, Mapesela told a local radio station that he had never encouraged anyone to invest family money in SGK.
He said people seeking answers about the missing money should go to SGK and leave him out of the matter.
