On July 4 2024, people from all walks of life took a sombre journey to Sosola Village in Balaka to send off music icon ‘Soldier’ Lucius Banda as he walked his last mile on earth.
The trek back was back on Saturday albeit on a different mission.
| Kondwani Nyondo
The village fell silent as the doors of a mausoleum swang open, revealing a final, gleaming resting place for Malawi’s beloved ‘Soldier’ of the poor.
What was meant to be a quiet unveiling ceremony instead became an outpouring of raw grief that it felt like a second farewell.
Crowds pressed close as family, friends and fans filled the compound, faces flowing with tears and heads bowed under the August sun.
The atmosphere moved between reverence and heartbreak. At times, the ceremony resembled a funeral rather than a celebration of the life of a man whose music had entertained generations.
When his grief-stricken widow, Sunganani Banda, took the keys and unlocked the mausoleum, the air erupted with wailing.
Women wailed, men embraced one another and children looked on, bewildered. It took several minutes for stewards and elders to calm the crowd.
Lucius’ children, nieces and nephews were equally overwhelmed. Their uncontrollable cries telling their own story of what he meant to the family.
But perhaps no one could better describe what Lucius meant to Malawi than the thousands who endured the scorching sun at the cemetery, hundreds who packed his Andiamo house and the thousands who later filled Balaka Stadium.
Artists and politicians who shared stages and struggles with Banda gathered at the memorial, alongside fellow musicians, members of the Zembani Band he founded and friends who travelled from near and far to honour a man who became a national voice.
For more than three decades, Lucius’ music—from the protest-tinged pulse of Mabala to the plaintive strains of Nthawi and the stirring Adzatimva—became part of Malawi’s everyday life.
His songs played at weddings and political rallies, on radios and in the country’s streets, bridging generations until his death on June 30 2024, aged 53.
Yet, amid the mourning, the gathering became more than a tribute to a musician.
It became a platform for a call for change in Malawi’s health sector.
In her tribute, Sunganani called for dialysis machines to be installed in districts across the country, saying her husband was fortunate to access treatment and check-ups in Lilongwe and abroad because he had the support and connections to do so.
“But imagine an ordinary villager. Many people are dying because their districts do not have equipment. We want this message to reach the Minister of Health to consider having machines across all districts,” she said.
Lilongwe City Centre legislator Gift Nankhuni (Malawi Congress Party) echoed the call, saying people were dying because of inadequate access to essential medical equipment.
The mausoleum was constructed by Lucius’ friends, both in Malawi and abroad, who pooled resources to build the marble-and-concrete structure worth about K25 million.
His long-time friend Jai Banda said the group was relieved that Lucius was finally laid to rest.
“This is what we have been yearning for, in honour of a man who entertained people and fought for the poor and did his activism through music,” he said.
CapeStars played a role in decorating the stage and supporting the construction of the mausoleum.
CapeStars official Wilkins Mijiga said they will continue organising Sand Music Festivals as part of preserving Banda’s legacy.
“We will work with the family to continue with one of the things that Lucius started and left us with. We cannot let the festival die. This would be a great injustice to the memory of Lucius and to the nation,” he said.
The mourning later gave way to music at Balaka Stadium, where Phyzix, Black Missionaries, Lulu, Piksy and Zembani Band and many other performed.
