Our chiefs, our shame

There was a time when Malawians used to be in awe of their traditional leaders. Not anymore. This is largely because most of our chiefs have lost a huge chunk of their moral authority.

This other day, well, last December actually, I was in my village in Karonga. While there, the most talked about story was about my village head.

Apparently, the chief was caught red-handed doing God-knows what with one of his subject’s wives at a not-so royal rendezvous.

The young men of my village paraded this ‘custodian of their culture’ around and brought him to a community trial where they found him guilty and charged him a cow as penalty for his adulterous behaviour.

These young men then took this cow to the primary school football ground within the village (where, by the way, I was a renowned self pair of hands between the football goalposts as my colleague Garry Chirwa likes to put).

The young men slaughtered this cow, brought ufa from their homes and the village had one hell of a party.

As I write, this village head, who passes through my father’s house on his way to the lake for a lonely swim and in search of fish for relish, walks with his head down.

My young brother tells me that since the incident, the man is treated like a plebeian, a commoner no one respects. Every day, the village head further isolates himself so much that he can no longer preside over disputes and other traditional duties.

When I went to a cousin’s funeral and it was time for the village head to speak, the man literally rooted himself to the ground he was sitting on—he refused to stand up to console the bereaved family and make a few announcements as is tradition.

I was sitting near him and I heard him whispering to his nearest neighbour: “Ise ndise bakwananga kale, sono kuti tiyowoyeso apa vitibenge makora cha (since I am a ‘sinner’ in the eyes of the people, it will not be appropriate for me to speak here).

Clearly, this man cannot effectively discharge the duties of a village head because he is morally compromised.

Over the years, most of our chiefs have lost their moral compass. If we do not read about the arrest of a chief for corruption or selling of Farm Input Subsidy Programme (Fisp) fertiliser coupons, we surely are likely to get something about defilement or something to that embarrassing effect, among other transgressions that our local leaders get up to these days.

The other issue that is ensnaring our traditional leaders is hardcore politics—politicians use these chiefs to help them shape public opinion for a certain stance or against certain things not in favour of the political party in power.

On television and press conferences, they have been paraded, talking glowingly about the administration or condemning those holding contrary views to those held by the ruling elite.

A few months ago, chiefs were up and about with their sticks, parroting the administration’s line against federalism.

This week, traditional leaders—led by paramount chiefs—joined ‘Operation Stop the Strikes’, issuing a petition that directed President Peter Mutharika to fire all striking workers if they do not resume their duties.

In total, 92 traditional leaders comprising senior chiefs, traditional authorities (T/As), group village heads and paramount chiefs leading the pack, paraded themselves around Blantyre until they presented their issue to Chief Secretary to Government George Mkondiwa, who was on hand to receive it.

Reads the petition in part: “Chiefs, together with their people, are asking the President of Malawi to direct that all government workers who defy government orders to return to work must be fired without compensation. The chiefs believe that there are many people in this country who are unemployed and yet have appropriate qualifications and experience.”

The chiefs wondered why the public servants are demanding higher pay when the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) administration has been in power for only a few months.

The political undertones, clearly aimed at absorbing the DPP administration of responsibility while subtly vilifying the Joyce Banda’s People’s Party (PP), were clear. There are already fundamental questions that others have asked: How did the chiefs—most of whom live hundreds and thousands of kilometres apart—coordinate so well, in such a short time, to, from nowhere, pull off a petition?

Given that our chiefs have very little to write home about in terms of personal finances, how was this exercise funded? Who funded them and why?

The chances are that taxpayers, in one way or the other, paid for this drama, including those who are on strike and the chiefs want them fired.

Whenever there is a dispute between two sides, chiefs are supposed to remain neutral because both sides are their children. But that is not the case with our chiefs. By siding with government on a labour dispute they have no knowledge about, people’s respect for chiefs may just have eroded even further. And the moral authority—the very symbol of their power over their subjects.

And that is a big shame.