From the Desk of Tungwa’s Talking Pen
There’s a spectre haunting Malawi, and it’s not just the ghost of our economy. It’s our President, Lazarus Chakwera, who seems to have appointed himself Minister for Posthumous Affairs and Grandiose Proclamations. His new governing strategy is simple: if it’s dead or hasn’t been built yet, slap a famous name on it and call it progress.
His supporters should be concerned. Every time the President opens his mouth, you’re not sure if you’ll get a policy contradiction or a fresh entry for the national obituary registry. His latest obsession is naming projects that exist only in the blueprint dimension. So far, the honourees are exclusively dead politicians and one Chief, presumably because the living are too busy trying to survive his administration to attend a ribbon-cutting for a patch of dust.
One shudders to think what 2030 will look like. If Malawians, in a fit of collective amnesia, grant him another term, we’ll likely see the “Prophet Austin Liabunya Memorial Cemetery & Car Park.” Frankly, it wouldn’t disturb the dead half as much as it disturbs the living who have to listen to this chaff.
The President’s recent performance at Nthungwa was a masterclass in political theatre. After taking a full year to even notice the site where his former deputy, Saulos Chilima, and eight others tragically perished, he finally managed to navigate his motorcade to the location. He then overcame a wave of what can only be described as crocodile grief to make another bizarre announcement: the perpetually unfinished 6km road in Lilongwe will be named the “Saulos Chilima Highway.” When will it be finished? Excellent question. Ask again in 2030.
This attempt to honour a man of action is particularly rich coming from a man of inaction. Let’s not forget the history. SKC, as we knew him, was a man of delivery. Give him a task, and it was done. This was, of course, a direct threat to an administration that measures progress in press releases. Chakwera promised Chilima the Finance Ministry, then reneged. He stripped him of cabinet posts. He had him arrested while shielding his own sticky-fingered staff from justice.
He now asks us to emulate Chilima, a man whose damning report on civil service wastefulness has been safely tucked away in the President’s pocket, presumably next to the report on who actually benefited from the stolen Covid funds. Chakwera failed to honour Chilima in life; in fact, he actively hid his achievements and allowed his own party to publicly humiliate him. His hypocrisy is so profound that when he gets to Hell, he won’t be a resident; he’ll be a consultant, teaching Lucifer a thing or two about the art of the bare-faced lie.
This obsession with naming spectral projects is a national tour of the President’s imagination:
- The Orton Chirwa International Airport: An airport so exclusive it exists only in the President’s head. Its location is classified, as is its construction schedule and, indeed, its physical matter.
- King Mmbelwa University: According to the State House fairy tale department, this university is opening in August. This is news to the bricks, which haven’t seen a human being since the DPP administration left them there in 2018.
- The Sidik Mia Highway: A road in Chikwawa that is locked in a fierce battle with the elements and is currently losing. Construction has been so absent for five years that locals are considering renaming it the “Sidik Mia Memorial Footpath.”
It’s too late to tell the President to slow down; the horse of reason bolted from that stable long ago. He’s better off sticking to his other phantom promises—the cheap fertiliser, the one million jobs, the Chancellor College hostels. Like his tributes to the dead, these are things that sound wonderful but that no living Malawian will ever see. The King isn’t just naked; he’s strutting around a construction site with no bricks, proudly dedicating it to a ghost.
What Malawi needs are roads that exist, hospitals that open, and universities that produce graduates—not ghost projects christened with names to boost political capital.
So dear Mr. President, please, for the love of logic: Finish first. Name later. Right now, the only thing complete is your detachment from reality.
