MCP, Vitu, the 50%+1 Riddle…
Let’s talk about Vitumbiko Mumba, a fresh face in a party of tired slogans. His name literally means blessing—or praise, depending on which Northern uncle is translating. But his political fate? A curse on MCP’s vote arithmetic.
Welcome to the North. A region where language, tribe, and politics twist together like a plate of poorly stirred nsima. One minute you’re in Chitipa and speaking Bemba, the next your neighbour is preaching in Ndali, voting DPP, and drinking with an MCP youth cadet. You think you understand Chitipa? Congratulations, you’ve just joined a WhatsApp group with nine admins and no rules.
Chitipa votes like a buffet. It serves DPP, PP, and MCP on one plate. Your so-called “election researcher” who says “Chitipa will vote MCP” deserves to be reassigned to counting cows in Nkhotakota.
Then you descend into Karonga, a place where the concept of “Paramount Chief” is as heavily suspicious as a politician’s sudden vow of poverty. How can one be a paramount of Ngonde, Tumbuka, Bemba, Nyakusya, and Chewa? It’s like trying to be the CEO of five competing companies simultaneously. And the name Karonga itself, derived from the historical failure of the L and R sounds among Northern dialects, is a testament to complexity. Hence, TA Kalonga, originally a Chewa, much to the chagrin of later generations screaming, “Wait! They say the Maravi Kingdom came from Congo, or was it Mali? Who knows? There was no Congo or Mali until some bored European “discovered” us and named us like lost pets. But we digress…
They swear Kalonga Chindzonzi died at Ngala, and wherever a Kalonga was buried, a chief was left behind to babysit the grave. Others claim Karonga means justice. But for the Chewa-driven MCP, just march into Karonga, declare it home, shout “Boma ndi lomweli!” and pray for a miracle to fix the Chiweta road before September 16th. Because, let’s be honest, that road is more cracked than the MCP’s campaign promises.
Next, Rumphi. Oh, Rumphi! Another delightful mess. The very idea of a “Tumbuka tribe” is a mystery wrapped in a myth, tied with a bow of historical revisionism. They’re simply families who spoke different languages and accidentally mingled with whoever they found in modern-day Tumbukaland. That’s why people from Hewe or TA Katumbi aren’t truly subjects of Chikulamayembe. The Katumbis are Chawingas and a few lost souls; Chikulamayembes are Gondwes and Luhangas. Every family has its own head, probably with its own tiny ceremonial stool. Now you understand why Rumphi politicians can’t unite: they come from different family trees, not just different parties. Try to unite Charles Mhango, Enoch Chihana, the late Gowa Nyasulu, the Mkwandawires, and even “Mtumbuka” (Mathews, not the Lord Bishop!). It’s easier to unite Atupele Muluzi with the MCP! Sorry, I hallucinated there for a moment, much like Atupele himself. (More on his fantastic delusions later.)
If Rumphi gives you a headache, Nkhatabay will give you a full-blown migraine. Here, Chewas, Tongas, and Ngoni live as rivals, perhaps even keeping score of who has the loudest generator. Mzuzu City itself, including Katoto, State House (yes, the State House), and Mzuzu Hotel, are all technically in Nkhatabay. And in some parts of Nkhatabay, you’re safer speaking Chichewa than Tumbuka, a linguistic minefield for any aspiring politician.
Then comes the mythical beast that is Mzimba. Politicians say it has a million votes. The electoral register says 400,000. The rest? Northern politicians, bless their ambitious hearts, will inflate that to a million. Where do they get these figures? Probably from the wandering spirits of Elephant Rock, who are notoriously bad at math. But Mzimba is deceptively simple: one King Mmbelwa, his cousins, and a few relatives rule. Only a sprinkling of Tumbuka (TA Jalavikuwa) and in-laws (Kampingo Sibande) disturb the Ngoni homogeneity.
Otherwise, like Chitipa, everyone votes for their own, often changing allegiances like fashion trends. DPP, MCP, UTM, Aford, and now even Freedom Party are all getting a piece of the pie. Yes, Emmanuel Mndoli might just rake it in for Councillor while Khumbo Kachali will majestically return to Parliament. You can cut my tail if it doesn’t happen!
Even Petra, for goodness sake, once had an MP: Gertrude NyaMkandawire for Mzimba Solola! Ngoni’s love meat, ujeni, and beer, not specific parties. But they are genuinely angry that the renamed King Mmbelwa University didn’t happen, and fertilizer is still costing an arm and a leg. They might just be expressing themselves with their votes. They also adored the late Saulosi Chilima, a fellow Ngoni. Perhaps politicians should be crying louder at Nthungwa every time they pass it to garner a vote. But if your name is Chikangawa, you might need SKC’s actual spirit to appear and exonerate you.
Believe you me, the stories circulating outside official channels are the stuff of legend. My favorite? SKC survived! He fought his killers! They had to dispatch Israeli commandos at night to finish him off, which is why they called off the search on that fateful June 10th. And describing the memorial as “private” only fueled the gossip mill: “Akukatola vizimba, ndimo ng’anga ikawaphalira kuti azawineso” (They went to collect charms, and the witch doctor told them they would win again). You just gotta love the people of Nthungwa! Anyway, I doubt there’s any truth to it. (Probably.)
But back to Vitu….
So, you see, after such a politically, tribally, and linguistically complicated saga, and the tragic events at Nthungwa, what the MCP desperately needs is a “Vitu” – specifically, Vitumbiko Mumba. The boy with no past baggage, no hate-filled, pot-bellied political baggage, just a breath of fresh air. But alas, parties and politicians rarely learn.
Young, untainted, modern—a clean departure from the “mphika kwa asing’anga” faces haunting their rallies. But no. They chose to impose Adamson Mkandawire in Mzimba Central. That’s the same Mzimba Central where no MP survives two terms except Sugar Shaba, and even he’s probably checking the expiry date on his popularity.
Instead of backing Vitu, they pushed him out. And now, he’s likely to run as an independent. Smart move. It solves President Chakwera’s indecisiveness for him. If MCP had rerun primaries, Mumba wouldn’t have had the sympathy card. But now? He gets the “they pushed me out” badge of honour. And in politics, sympathy is a currency—especially when your economy is a mess.
Let’s talk about 50%+1. It’s not a formula. It’s a miracle. You don’t get there by losing youthful, dynamic leaders like Mumba. You get there by convincing street vendors in Limbe, university kids in Zomba, and hungry voters in Mzimba that you actually see them. T-shirts and chitumbuwa don’t win elections. Strategy does.
Unfortunately, EmuCiPi being EmuCiPi, the party is run like a bad classroom group project. Everyone wants to lead, no one wants to innovate. As one Facebook philosopher put it, “These guys are cartoons.” The only thing missing is a theme song.
Meanwhile, Mkaka—arguably the best Secretary General MCP had—has been benched during a season of fuel shortages, fertilizer famine, and economic potholes. This was his time to shine. Instead, the stage is full of cheerleaders with broken megaphones.
Conclusion?
MCP is bleeding potential. Vitu Mumba was the kind of leader who could win hearts in Lilongwe, Mzimba, and Ndirande. But instead of polishing their gem, they threw him into the political river and hoped he’d float back with less ambition.
