Britain bribed Malawi over 1959 martyrs: Really?

We spent the past six days doing what all normal Malawians in this great federal republic do. We worked in the day, ate in the day and prayed in the day. We drank in the night, danced in the night and, of course, swore in the night. The night is the best part of the 24-hour day. It is the only time witches and wizards come out in full force and display their talents. It is the only time boys garner unquestionable bravery and walk kilometres on end, meeting a hyena here, a leopard there and a mouse there to visit nthanganeni, girlfriends’ home. It is the only time the so-called respectable people, company managers, directors of government departments, atheists, and medical doctors are seen parked at their second homes, enjoying themselves with their second wives and second children. This happens in the urban republic of Blantyre, the urban  republic of Zomba, the urban republic of Lilongwe, the urban republic of Jenda as much as it happens in the rural republics of Chikwawa (not Chikhwawa as Bwana Ngwazi Big Kahuna once misled this federal republic), Nkhata Bay, Chitipa, Ntchisi, Phalombe and Dowa.

It is in the night that great decisions are made. It was in the night that Paul Mphwiyo was shot and the mass plunder of resources at Capital Hill was revealed. It was at night that Robert Chasowa was murdered. It was at that the Midnight Six met to usurp constitutional order. At that time, the Midnight Six were less bothered about their dead party president and more interested in power.

Power means a lot. Those who hold it can do anything including painting a police station in party colours. Power, real power, presidential power, is the key to this federal republic’s resources: money, businesses, women, girls, boys, courts, the police and even the army.

Armed with these apparatuses, power holders can do anything to anyone at any time. Armed with these, they can give business opportunities to their friends, colleagues, fellow cashgatists. Armed with power, they can decide to fire and appoint chief justices although these pretend to have retired. They can fire a qualified director and replace her with an unqualified one. Yes, they can. They can also impoverish the country while they swim in glory and gold. Yes, they do. They can decide to drop some Cashgate court cases and pursue those which seem to involve their political enemies. Yes, we know. They can kill a whole political party represented in Parliament by giving it money in exchange for total allegiance and support. Yes, they are.

So, last night was not different for us. We had travelled to Chulu to meet old friends, fellow bottom up, and miserly remunerated but highly respected government officers in the rural communities. We know this because wherever we go we ask who the most popular people in the area are. In the Simulemba area agricultural extension officers came tops. The next were hospital staff, doctors (as the hospital assistants are called) and nurses. The last were the reformed police. The same assessment was obtained in the Chulu area.  We arrived at Kasungu headquarters in the afternoon but we waited for the night to get to the Kasungu Inn bar, our home away from home. The barman was all smiles at our sight.

“You seem to be extremely happy, Jo!” remarked Abiti Joyce Befu, MG 66, who has forcibly married herself to Sheikh Jean-Philippe LePoisson through Kaliyati’s marriage and sex law.

“Each time you are around, the hotel makes money,” the barman responded, adding “you are not like some of the clients who drink and eat and expect us to chase for the money.”

“So, are we spendthrifts?” I asked.

“No, you are honest and dependable clients!”

“Crook! You talk like a member of the Cashgate midnight six!”

The barman laughed as he turned to pick our haram drinks. As he served us, the barman asked: “Why are Malawi’s presidents uninterested in the 1959 martyrs?”

“What do you think?” Native Authority Mandela answered.

“Well, I suspect the Malawi government already received compensation and the presidents know the deal. You see, Kamuzu Banda never said anything about the 1959 martyrs. During campaigns, Muluzi, Mutharika and even Joyce Banda promised to look into the matter and bring it to closure. But when they got to the state house, they tucked in their tongues. Something mysterious must be happening!”

“You mean, our presidents are bribed into silence by the murderous British?” Jean-Philippe asked.

“That’s what we hear. Isn’t strange that none of the presidents has ever attended the Martyrs’ Day commemoration?”