This week, some activists showed up at the offices of President Lazarus Chakwera, former president Joyce Banda and UTM leader Dalitso Kabambe, among others, with genuine demands. I am talking about the National Youth Decide Campaign and the Women’s Manifesto Movement.
These folks capitalised on the ongoing election campaign to spotlight, each in their way, the real issues facing women and youth in Malawi, and they want to hold politicians accountable by pushing past the usual empty rhetoric to demand tangible action on commitment cards.
For its part, the National Youth Decide Campaign is demanding commitment from presidential candidates to youth empowerment, including jobs, quality education and their voices in decision-making processes through its recently launched Malawi Youth Manifesto. Likewise, the Women’s Manifesto Movement has stepped forward, demanding genuine gender equality (or is it equity?), respect for women’s rights and a meaningful seat for our mothers and sisters at the tables where decisions are made and development is planned.
As you can see, these are citizens rising to reclaim their power, their voices and their rightful place in the national conversation before elections on September 16.
But as the spotlight flashed between these two groups, persons with disabilities remained dangerously sidelined even though they equally deserve a seat at the table just as loudly and rightfully.
Last Thursday, without much fanfare, the Federation of Disability Organisations in Malawi (Fedoma) launched a Disability Manifesto—a powerful document rooted in the daily realities, struggles and experiences of nearly two million Malawians living with disabilities. According to the 2018 Population and Housing Census, over 1.7 million Malawians identified as persons with disabilities, including 134,636 people with albinism.
That is not a minority voice. Even though not all within this demographic are eligible to vote in the upcoming elections, still, the disability voice must not be treated as an afterthought. It deserves to be part of the national conversation. Therefore, Malawians with disabilities are saying: “Include us too. We deserve the same constitutional rights as every other citizen”.
Among others, Fedoma seeks self-representation in government, including Cabinet seats and decision-making roles so that policies can be shaped by persons with disabilities themselves—not imposed from afar. They are also saying accessibility must be non-negotiable in public buildings, transport and communication. Beyond that, they add, education, jobs and strong legal protections against discrimination and abuse are crucial. Anything less violates Malawi’s laws.
Now, one may wonder: why do these manifestos matter? Persons with disabilities roughly make up over 10 percent of Malawi’s population—that is, nearly two million citizens. But if you look around, you will see that there are very few in our political party structures. Where are they in Cabinet? In Parliament? In councils?
Truth is, they are virtually invisible in our governance systems. You rarely see them in positions of power. Not because they lack ideas or capability, but because the system—our politics, our infrastructure and our very attitudes—keeps shutting the doors in their face. From impassable office buildings and schools to churches and mosques, people with disabilities are often excluded from public debate, absent from leadership positions and barred from full participation due to physical, attitudinal and systemic barriers.
However, this manifesto confronts this head-on, reminding us all that inclusion is not a favour you only grant during an election campaign. It is a constitutional duty, a moral obligation and above all, the mark of a democracy worth defending.
Therefore, my appeal to all politicians in this election is this: Sign the Disability Manifesto too, and genuinely include persons with disabilities in your agenda for the next five years. Because if our democracy cannot make room for every Malawian,
