Since the Anti-Corruption Bureau (ACB) was established in the late 1990s, successive governments have waged a bruising and often theatrical war against corruption, particularly within the public service and the political elite that presides over it.
From 1998, every administration has marched onto the podium with familiar slogans of zero tolerance, clean government and integrity. Yet, behind this political rhetoric, corruption has not only survived but also evolved, becoming more sophisticated and entrenched than the ACB’s founders ever imagined.
Of course, from the UDF era to the current DPP regime, there have been moments of progress. The government tightened regulations, launched inquiries, paraded a few culprits before courts and occasionally secured convictions for some. But these scattered victories have done little to alter Malawi’s trajectory in the fight against corruption in any meaningful, lasting way.
These small gains are flashes in a sea of inaction, and corruption networks that were formed in the early 1990s or even before among politicians, public officials, private companies and businesspeople, remain intact, increasingly complex and shielded by a culture of impunity. With every administration coming, Malawians see that the so-called “progress” is mostly cosmetic and looks good on paper while leaving ordinary citizens’ lives unchanged.
But Malawi is not losing the corruption fight because it lacks laws. This country has more anti-corruption statutes than anyone can count, plus a long list of institutions created to promote honesty, transparency, accountability and ethical conduct. Many of these bodies are also mandated expressly to prevent, investigate and punish corruption. However, the real problem is a lack of political will, and these tools are weak, misdirected or simply not enforced.
Consider the much-publicised 30-day amnesty Chakwera promised in the run-up to the 2020 election. He delivered that promise with the moral thunder of a man carrying the title of ‘reverend’. That amnesty was supposed to act as a cleansing agent, wiping away six years of corruption (2014-2020) and conveniently covering any missteps by his own team in the MCP-led government. Instead, that amnesty never materialised. It quietly died the minute Chakwera assumed office while reports of corruption continued to mount even under his own watch.
Yes, the previous DPP regime had left a buffet of scandals and economic challenges. But when MCP took office after 26 years in opposition, its broom did not sweep clean. Instead, it started picking up corruption dirt of its own, including the infamous Zuneth Sattar scandal, allegations of messy fertiliser and shady fuel procurements, alleged inflated contracts and a proliferation of foreign trips by Chakwera and his ministers that heavily contributed to draining the already scarce foreign exchange.
But that is all history now. Chakwera and his MCP are gone, DPP is back, and many statesmen and women now stand by like spectators, watching to see whether the new administration will dust off that 30-day amnesty idea. At the pace things are moving amid reports that many people could soon face corruption charges, Malawi needs a real amnesty, not the ghost that was promised in 2020.
Just as we heard in 2020, the amnesty idea cannot cure the corruption disease, but it could help recover stolen public funds quickly, expose key corruption networks and shorten lengthy investigations, thereby saving public resources, among others.
In the end, Malawians want uncompromising proof that Mutharika will tackle the plunder of this nation without fear or favour. But the question is, can the DPP administration deliver on this? Will those in power confront corruption with enough conviction to convince all of us that DPP has truly changed, and that the country is finally in genuinely repentant hands?
Otherwise, DPP stands at a crossroads to either clean up the political and economic mess left behind by the MCP or become the next casualty of its own inaction.
