It started, as these things often do on social media, with a skit promoting a forthcoming programme on Zodiak Broadcasting Station (ZBS).
In the clip, a woman suggests that some girls actively solicit relationships with older men. A man responds that the attraction is often financial—older men have resources, stability, and the ability to provide. What followed was not a conversation, but a pile-on.
The woman was accused of “internalised misogyny”. The man was dismissed as justifying predatory behaviour. The verdict from the public was swift: men are to blame, full stop.
That reaction is telling. Not because it is entirely wrong—but because it is incomplete.
It reflects a growing unwillingness to engage with uncomfortable truths in a balanced, holistic way. We have become adept at choosing sides, but less willing to examine the full picture.
The recent Republic vs Ernest Chimpeni case shows what happens when nuance is lost and debate becomes overly simplified.
On paper, the law is clear. Malawi’s Penal Code, particularly after the 2023 amendment, imposes strict liability in cases involving sexual relations with minors. If the girl is under 18, the offence is complete—regardless of what the man believed.
That clarity is intentional. It is designed to protect minors.
But the facts of the Chimpeni case expose the limits of this neat framework. The girl misrepresented her age. She admitted entering the relationship for financial support, even if it meant committing paternity fraud. Her family, at one point, entertained marriage negotiations with the accused.
The lower court convicted. The High Court overturned the conviction, citing unreliable witnesses and unsafe grounds.
That sequence should have triggered a serious national conversation. Instead, we defaulted to familiar positions.
The man must be guilty. The girl must be a victim. End of story.
But reality, as this case shows, is rarely that simple.
Protecting minors is not up for debate. It is a legal and moral imperative. But when protection is interpreted to mean the complete absence of agency, we begin to distort both justice and policy responses.
When a minor or junior party solicits a sexual favour, it is often in exchange for a benefit. Acknowledging that does not deny exploitation. It simply recognises complexity.
And that is where the danger lies.
When we reduce every case to male culpability alone, we create a system that is not just protective, but also vulnerable to manipulation. We ignore deception, economic motivation and the social dynamics that underpin these relationships.
Justice does not operate on narratives. It operates on facts—and on the fair distribution of accountability.
A system that refuses to interrogate all sides risks becoming selective. It punishes some behaviours while ignoring others, even when those behaviours contribute to the same outcome.
This imbalance extends beyond cases involving minors.
In workplaces and institutions, for example, we rightly condemn situations where senior figures exploit their positions. But we are far less willing to examine scenarios where the initiative originates from the junior party—where relationships are pursued strategically for personal gain.
These cases are uncomfortable. They challenge assumptions about power and vulnerability. But avoiding them does not make them disappear. It simply leaves gaps in our legal and moral framework.
And gaps can be exploited.
None of this excuses predatory behaviour. It insists that accountability must be comprehensive.
If minors are engaging in transactional relationships, intervention must begin at the source. Families and communities must shape behaviour and values. Where that fails, reformative approaches—not just punitive ones—must be considered.
At the same time, the law must evolve. Absolute liability may protect, but it must be complemented by safeguards that recognise deception and prevent misuse.
Most importantly, we need to change how we talk about these issues.
Not every attempt to introduce nuance is an attack on women. Not every uncomfortable question is victim-blaming. Sometimes, it is simply an effort to ensure that justice reflects reality—not just sentiment.
