The National Oil Company of Malawi (Nocma) is under fire after an alleged cyber-fraud heist that cost $403 605 (roughly K700 million).
The money was reportedly meant for a Mozambican company handling petroleum products on behalf of Nocma at the Port of Nacala. Instead, following what has been described as cyber fraud, the funds ended up in a Bank of America account controlled by fraudsters who allegedly posed as the legitimate business partner.
By the time the real company came looking for its payment, the money had already grown wings—and Malawian taxpayers were left with the bill.
I’m no cybersecurity expert, but surely, when you are about to move K700 million, you don’t just nod and press the “send” button. People entrusted with guarding public money are expected to be even smarter. They are paid to put safeguards in place, ask the uncomfortable questions and verify instructions to ensure public money does not fall into traps that ordinary citizens are expected to spot with far fewer resources.
And that is why the scandal at Nocma is bigger than the money allegedly lost. I say ‘latest’ because at Nocma, such scandals happen regularly, leaving taxpayers wondering whether this country has enough laws and institutions to protect public money and whether those laws and institutions actually have the teeth to do the job.
The criminals involved in this new affair, assuming there are any, must be hunted down, the money traced and every possible Tambala recovered.
Malawians are also entitled to ask what happened inside Nocma before that money left. For instance, who verified the new banking details? Who authorised the transaction? What safeguards were supposed to kick in when, if at all, a supplier suddenly changed its banking information? And why did they apparently not work?
These are not questions meant to ridicule anyone who previously fell victim to fraud, including myself. Cybercriminals are becoming increasingly sophisticated, and even private businesses can be deceived. However, Nocma is a public institution handling public resources and, therefore, carries a higher duty of care.
Sadly, this scandal is among a long and depressing list of public-money controversies that have followed the UDF, DPP, People’s Party and MCP administrations since 1994. The parties only changed colours, but the public-sector accountability problem has proved remarkably stubborn, with each regime presiding over substantial scandals, investigations and audit findings involving public procurement and financial management.
And the point is not to declare one political party more corrupt than another. That would be too easy—and rather misses the point. They all have been corrupt, although my point is that Malawi has changed governments more successfully than it has changed the systems protecting taxpayers’ money.
But even the confirmed and documented losses over the years surely run into billions of kwacha. And billions do matter. They could mean classrooms, rural roads, health-centre improvements, water projects or electricity connections. And in a country where motorists queue for hours looking for fuel, the thought of hundreds of millions disappearing through weak controls at Nocma is particularly painful.
In my view, the bigger loss, however, is trust. Every time public money disappears, and nobody can clearly explain who authorised what, every time an investigation is announced, but its outcome becomes stale news, taxpayers become a little more cynical. They begin to believe that public money belongs to nobody.
No. It does not. This money belongs to farmers paying tax on fertiliser and fuel, car owners or drivers buying fuel, civil servants whose salary is taxed at source and poor children, mostly in rural areas sitting five to a desk in an overcrowded classroom with no roof to protect them from rain or the scorching sun.
That is why the government should not close this Nocma chapter with an internal review and a few arrests. We want to see an independent forensic investigation from the first email to the final bank instruction. Everyone who verified, recommended, approved or processed the payment must answer for their role—not because guilt should be presumed, but because responsibility in public office cannot be optional.
And when the investigation is complete, Malawians deserve to know what happened to their K700 million.
