26 August 2026
At the height of the Cashgate scandal, the one-time budget director Paul Mphwiyo said “the Malawi Government is a criminal entreprise”. One cannot agree more.
Just when we thought we had it all, from Bridgin through purchases of fertiliser from a pork shop, and through shady acquisition of the Amaryllis Hotel, here comes the National Oil Company of Malawi (Nocma).
It is dizzying how loose minutes flying around the Capital Hill are emptying the national coffers.
From hefty travel allowances to strike fuel and fertiliser deals, the criminal entreprise that is the Malawi Government is beyond reform.
It is apparent that the system will never change. The rot is deeply rooted beyond redemption.
But we cannot talk about it. Our eyes are on Plot Number One to make the heads roll. Who are the people who processed that heart-throbbing K700 million payment to Moz Handling?
You see, apart from misprocurement, bloating of budgets, misappropriation through daily subsistence allowances, Malawi’s civil service is greatly haunted—not by spirits of the departed, but by ghost workers who drain the public purse while classrooms sit empty and hospitals cry out for nurses. Payroll fraud has become one of the most enduring symbols of our governance malaise, a cancer eating away at the very institutions meant to serve citizens.
Remember the Covid-19 funds scandal. A forensic audit revealed millions lost to ghost payments, cash withdrawals never deposited, and allowances paid to staff who never appeared on duty rosters.
This was not a clerical error; it was organised theft, typical of Capital Hill pilferers.
In the middle of the pandemic, ghost workers were literally stealing the breath of Malawians. The rot extends beyond emergencies.
In 2024, job-seekers for health surveillance assistant positions discovered that ghost names had been inserted into recruitment lists. Candidates who never sat for interviews were suddenly ‘successful’, while genuine applicants were sidelined.
Districts from Blantyre to Ntchisi erupted in anger, demanding answers. This is not only corruption; it is betrayal of the youth who queue for jobs in a country where unemployment is already suffocating.
Ghost workers, like the ones who appended signatures for the Nocma deal, were not just stealing salaries—they were stealing opportunities.
Successive governments have promised reforms—biometric verification, payroll audits, digital systems. Each uncovers irregularities, each removes hundreds of ghost names.
Yet the problem resurfaces, stubbornly. Why? Because ghost workers do not appear by accident. They survive through collusion: officials in recruitment, payroll, HR, and finance working together to protect the fraud.
It is a racket, not a glitch. And as long as insiders benefit, the ghosts will keep haunting us.The consequences are devastating. Malawi’s wage bill has ballooned by 234 percent in just five years, swallowing nearly 38 percent of domestic tax revenue. This is unsustainable.
Every kwacha wasted on a ghost worker is a kwacha unavailable to hire a real nurse in Zomba, a teacher in Chikwawa, or an engineer to fix our crumbling roads. Citizens are told there is no money for development, yet billions vanish into phantom salaries.
Ghost workers are not invisible—they are painfully visible in the shortages of chalk, medicine, and patrol vehicles.
Ghost workers taint the civil service by eroding trust. Citizens see a government that cannot even control its own payroll, yet asks for donor support and fiscal discipline.
How can taxpayers believe in reforms when the same ghosts keep reappearing? How can donors trust our institutions when audits reveal the same fraud year after year?
Each ghost name on the payroll is a reminder that accountability is selective, and that corruption is tolerated.The fight against ghost workers must go beyond audits.
It requires dismantling the networks that sustain them. That means prosecuting officials who collude, digitising payroll systems with real-time verification, and linking salaries to biometric attendance. It means political will—not just rhetoric—to confront corruption even when it implicates allies. Without consequences, the ghosts will continue to thrive. Malawi cannot afford to be haunted any longer.
So, as we await the outcome of investigations on those behind the Nocma scandal, let us exorcise the ghosts at Capital Hill.
