Democracy on a bike
For young motorcycle riders who keep the nation moving, democracy is not about the debates and resolutions made in air-conditioned chambers, but the change you see on the move. Our Staff Writer BARBARA KACHINANGWA writes:
They are blamed for a surge in road accidents, choking the country’s overwhelmed hospitals.

However, they are all over the country, ferrying people to hard-to-reach areas with neglected and underdeveloped roads.
Most Malawians know the motorcycle taxi operators as akabaza.
Fatsani Jackson, 20, wears the tag like a badge of honour despite the scorn.
“We keep the nation moving, but the thankless nation blames us for the road accidents,” says the rider who plies in Nsanje at the southern tip.
His motorcycle hits the road before sunrise till late in the night.
As the sun rises in the sweltering Shire Valley, he wipes out profuse sweat with one hand and the other firmly grip the handlebar—eyes on the road.
“The motorcycle is my daily hustle, the only source of income,” he says.
He detests the country’s stuttering promise to provide rewarding skills and jobs for the youth.
Like many kabaza riders across the country’s length and breadth, Fatsani personifies the agony of the country’s dominant generation, worst affected by the country’s massive youth unemployment.
Most of them have never cast a vote before.
But come September 16, they will queue not for passengers, but to decide who should lead a nation and deliver the change they want.
“We’re the future of our nation, but our political leaders don’t even notice us unless it’s campaign time. The cost of living keeps rising and there aren’t many jobs for us,” Jackson laments, parking his motorcycle in a tree shade.
Blessings Mwadyanji, 19, from Soche Township in Blantyre City, dropped out of secondary school following his father’s death.
“Since then, the motorbike has become my classroom and means of survival,” he says. “No politician has ever come to me to explain how they intend to make my life better. Yet we’re moving the nation one passenger at a time.”
The hardship of youth unemployment compelled his mother to buy the motorcycle using borrowings from her village savings and loans group.
The bike instantly turned Mwadyanji into his family’s breadwinner.
With the general election coming soon, he rides with hope and scepticism.
While campaign posters plaster walls and trees with promises of jobs and youth inclusion, the rider and his peers want “more than just words”.
“What’s change for me?” asks Yamikani Mbali, 21, from Ndirande Township in Blantyre, laughing slyly. “Easy access to jobs, skills employers need and business loans. I want to buy a proper motorbike. I also want more young minds elected into decisive positions.”
Interestingly, the busy riders are not disconnected from politics.
Heated debates over the quality of candidates and manifestos rage as they wait for passengers like Revelend Hardwick Kaliya, the presidential candidate who hitched one to present his nomination papers in Lilongwe on Sunday.
They also listen to political jingles on portable radios, agreeing and disagreeing with political analysts.
But their trust does not come cheap.
“Old leaders come and go, but none of them remembers what they promised,” says Blessings Juma, 20.
The Ndirande resident faults sitting President Lazarus Chakwera for backtracking on his Tonse Alliance’s promise to create one million jobs for the youth within the first 12 months.
“New faces say the same things, but jobs don’t come, the roads remain bad and hospitals still have no medicine. The only job democracy has for us is this risky business we do without crash helmets, proper training, licensing or insurance,” he says.
Juma “desperately watched” his sister leave a public hospital empty-handed, save for a prescription of medicine she had to buy from a private pharmacy.
“We couldn’t afford the drugs,” he says. “I realised that poverty can kill.”
Juma cannot wait to vote for the first time.
He does not trust the system, but still believes in democracy despite widespread frustration and fatigue among his peers.
However, he urges political parties and candidates to “put the youth front and centre in all spaces where they discuss matters that affect us”.
But not all hope is lost.
Mike Gondwe, 20 from Njamba in Blantyre, wanted to become an automobile mechanic, but now transports passengers to various locations, markets, workplaces and homesteads.
For him, voting is a duty—a chance to change the country’s fortunes.
“My vote can help bring electricity to my community where the youth desperately need it for their businesses: barbershops, electronics repairs and video showrooms,” he says.
Unlike many, soft-spoken Tadala James, 22, keeps a notebook where he writes down his thoughts and aspirations.
“The motorbike can kill me any day, so I need to change now. I want to see the youth making big decisions in local councils, in Parliament and even inthe Cabinet. I want leaders who come from places like mine—politicians who understand our daily conditions,” says the rider who dropped out of nursing school due to lack of fees.
Young Voices executive director Keneth Mtago says it is time politicians took the needs of the youth seriously.
“ The first-time voters should only vote for candidates whose development agenda prioritises the aspirations of the youth. Vote for transformative ideas, not people you know,” he says.
The campaigner urges the youth to become agents of peace and positive change, not political violence.
Tadala concurs: ”When the old guard use us as weapons of violence, we sell our immense power for a song. I want my first vote to really count and change the raw deal.”