Locked out of banks and racing against time, Malawian traders are turning to shadowy middlemen to pay foreign suppliers — and some are losing life‑changing sums.
With banks limiting withdrawals to as little as $200 and taking weeks to process requests, ordinary businesspeople are being pushed into risky, unregulated deals. What began as a shortfall in foreign currency has become a conduit for fraud, leaving shop owners stranded abroad, trucks unpaid for and millions of kwacha vanished.
Evelyn Kapandansalu remembers the day her business stopped being predictable. For a decade she ran a steady cross‑border trade: fly to China, place orders, bring back clothing to sell in Blantyre. Between 2019 and 2021 she could apply for $6 000 or more at her bank and have suppliers paid within days. “It was that fast,” she says. “The bank could pay suppliers on time without compromise.”
On August 22 2025, a friend put her in touch with a man who claimed to have a foreign‑currency account and could pay her Chinese supplier directly. He sent documents that looked convincing. Trusting the paperwork, Kapandansalu deposited K14 million, then another K11 250 000, into the account he provided. He promised to settle the supplier and gave her a receipt. Confident the goods were paid for, she flew to China to collect them.
At a stopover in Tanzania she received a message: the money had not been reflected with the supplier. She called the middleman; he reassured her and urged her to proceed with the documents he had issued.
In China, the supplier told a different story: the payment had never arrived and the paperwork was fake. Kapandansalu spent 11 days stranded, sleeping on borrowed couches and crying every night. She returned to Malawi without merchandise and without K25 250 000. She reported the fraud to police; months later, she says, nothing meaningful has happened.
Grounded and regretting the day she lost her money, Kapandansalu is struggling and her sweat of several years has yielded misery; she can no longer go to China. “I had nothing remaining to continue with my business. I borrowed some cash from a friend just to keep the business going. It is difficult because I am now buying within the country and selling at my shop,” she said.
Kapandansalu’s loss is not an isolated incident. Hamza Chihaye, who was trying to buy a truck from Ireland, followed a similar path. Banks could not supply the euros his supplier demanded, so he accepted an online lead promising to facilitate the payment.
He sent K2 million, then K25 million. The intermediary acknowledged receipt and promised to pay the supplier; then the calls stopped.
“In fact, I was processing that payment for a friend. I told him I would find a middleman on his behalf and I paid, not knowing I would be in huge trouble,” he said.
Chihaye reported the fraud to Fiscal Police on August 26, but his attempts to recover funds have been frustrated by delays; at times he had to provide transport for officers to follow up.
He has since sold his car for K17 million and land for K6 million to raise money to repay the person who wanted to buy the truck.
“The total is K27 million. I am almost closing my electronics shop in Mangochi to cover the gap. Mentally I am affected; I cannot focus. I am always running up and down to find money to repay,” he said.
Police records and spokespeople confirm a pattern.
National Police Deputy Spokesperson Alfred Chimthere says officers have received multiple reports of similar scams, including cases involving K152 million and K27 million.
He said police in Limbe have arrested Bright Sydney Nselenga, 38, on theft charges after a businesswoman accused him of promising to facilitate foreign payments and then failing to pay suppliers.
On Monday, January 19 2026, the suspect appeared before the High Court Commercial Division in Blantyre, but the matter was adjourned to February 3 to give the State seven days to finish paperwork and for the defence to review the case before the suspect enters a plea.
At the Commercial Court the suspect will face claims that he duped Chihaye of K27 million.
Nselenga is also expected to appear before the Dalton Road Magistrate’s Court in Limbe on Thursday, January 29 to answer charges that he duped Kapandansalu.
“Twice the matter has been adjourned as the suspect has not appeared before the court,” said Kapandansalu.
The fraud cases share a common origin: a persistent shortage of foreign exchange that has pushed legitimate demand into informal channels. Where banks once processed supplier payments quickly, they now ration dollars and euros. That rationing creates a market for middlemen who promise speed and convenience. For desperate traders, the risk of dealing with unvetted intermediaries is outweighed by the immediate need to keep supply chains moving. For criminals, the shortage is an opportunity.
Authorities say they are taking steps. The government’s 2026 Economic and Fiscal Policy Statement promises tighter oversight of foreign‑exchange dealers, annual licence renewals, a temporary ban on forex derivatives until regulations are in place, and stiffer penalties under the new Foreign Exchange Act (2025). The strategy also emphasizes rebuilding foreign reserves through export diversification and monetising minerals such as gold.
Reserve Bank of Malawi spokesperson Boston Maliketi Banda frames the crisis as structural. For decades Malawi’s imports have outpaced exports, he says, and the gap has been temporarily bridged by borrowing, donor grants and project inflows.
Short‑term fixes such as demand management and currency adjustments have not solved the underlying imbalance.
“The only sustainable solution is to address the core issue by boosting exports,” he told this reporter, adding that the bank is working with the government, the financial industry and the private sector to prioritise investment in productive, export‑oriented sectors.
But policy promises and long‑term fixes offer little solace to those who have already been robbed. Victims describe slow police responses, opaque investigations and, in some cases, officers who demanded payment to pursue leads. The result is a chilling effect: traders who once relied on formal channels now fear both the banks and the unregulated market that has sprung up to replace them.
Back in Blantyre, Kapandansalu is grounded. Without the money she lost, she cannot place new orders; without new stock, her shop cannot generate the cash to recover. Chihaye is rebuilding after selling his assets.
Both say they will continue to press the police and hope for restitution, but their stories have become warnings to others: when official channels fail, the alternatives can be worse than no option at all.
The crisis has exposed a fragile chain: a structural foreign‑exchange deficit, rationed bank services, a thriving informal market and a law‑enforcement system struggling to keep pace.
