A fortnight ago, I chanced upon a provocative piece in an online publication boldly asserting that Malawi’s founding president, Dr. Hastings Kamuzu Banda, was not of native origin. The crux of this audacious claim hinged on the observation that Kamuzu, throughout his public addresses, refrained from speaking Chichewa—the nation’s predominant tongue. Instead, he consistently employed English, necessitating the presence of an interpreter to convey his messages to the local populace.
I recall encountering this narrative before; it gained notable traction during Malawi’s transition to multiparty democracy in the early 1990s. Amid the fervour of the 1993 referendum and the subsequent 1994 elections, whispers of Kamuzu’s foreign origins intensified. Some even alleged his true name was ‘Armstrong,’ suggesting he was an American imposter who assumed Banda’s identity after the real Banda’s untimely death during his medical studies abroad.
Proponents of this theory wove elaborate tales to bolster their claims. One such story recounted that the young boy who departed Kasungu in the early 1900s had a missing toe. Upon Banda’s return in 1958, a local chief purportedly requested he remove his shoes, revealing all toes intact—thus, according to the tale, unmasking the imposter.
This theory, lacking rigorous historical substantiation, has been propagated more for political expediency than scholarly inquiry.
Proponents of this claim have even disseminated their arguments through platforms like YouTube, presenting “evidence” without thorough research into Banda’s life, his interactions with contemporaries, or the linguistic history of Malawi. Notably, Banda’s preference for English in public addresses, necessitating interpreters, has been cited as evidence of foreignness.
In 1937, a seminal work titled A Grammar of Chichewa was published in the United States, marking the first American-authored grammar of an African language. This groundbreaking publication resulted from a collaboration between Mark Hanna Watkins, an African-American PhD student at the University of Chicago, and Hastings Kamuzu Banda, a young student from Nyasaland.
At the time of this collaboration, Banda was advancing his education in the United States. After completing his undergraduate studies, he pursued a medical degree at Meharry Medical College in Nashville, Tennessee, graduating in 1937. Despite his academic achievements, Banda faced challenges in having his American medical qualifications recognised by British colonial authorities in Nyasaland. Consequently, he relocated to the United Kingdom to obtain a British medical qualification, enrolling at the University of Edinburgh. There, he earned a Scottish triple conjoint diploma in 1941. At no point between the 1930s and 1958 did he die or disappear.
When he returned to Nyasaland in 1958, he found a homeland transformed—none more so than in its linguistic landscape. In his youth, Banda had never ventured beyond his native Kasungu district. Back then, all of Kasungu was bilingual, with Chichewa and Chitumbuka spoken interchangeably across the district. Today, only Northern Kasungu speaks Chitumbuka alongside Chichewa..
During Kamuzu’s four-decade absence from Nyasaland, the Chichewa language underwent significant transformation, absorbing a multitude of foreign words that reshaped its lexicon. This linguistic evolution was influenced by interactions with various local ethnic groups and Europeans. For instance, the term bambo, commonly used to mean “father” or “gentleman,” is derived from the Ngoni language. Similarly, chemwali and chimwene, denoting “sister” and “brother” respectively, have their origins in Yao. The word ndege, meaning “bird” or “airplane,” is borrowed from Swahili, while nsapato, meaning “shoes,” is a corruption of the Portuguese word sapatos. These words, and many others, transformed Chichewa a great deal.
I once heard a poignant tale illustrating this evolution. A young man, mourning his mother’s passing in the village, arrived exclaiming, “Zoona Masten mungavaye osatithokera?” Only about 25% of that sentence is rooted in traditional Chichewa; the remainder comprises borrowed or made-up terms.
Those who had the privilege of close interactions with Kamuzu can attest that he did indeed speak Chichewa. However, his version of the language was steeped in antiquity, echoing a bygone era. In 2016, I conversed with a member of the Kamuzu family and inquired whether the former president ever addressed his relatives in Chichewa. “Yes, he did,” came the affirmative response. During family gatherings at Sanjika Palace, I learnt, he would often pose a question in archaic Chichewa: “Mwamwako tiyi? Akupatchankoni kachipanda kakawaye?”—which translates to, “Have you had tea? Were you served from the small cups?”
Indeed, Dr Hastings Kamuzu Banda did speak Chichewa—but not the modern, urbanised version many of us are familiar with today. His Chichewa was an unadulterated, archaic form, deeply rooted in the linguistic traditions of his youth in Kasungu. This version of the language, rich in its purity and authenticity, often left contemporary listeners bewildered, struggling to grasp its nuances. It can be argued that, rather than Kamuzu being perceived as not speaking Chichewa, it is us who have drifted from the true essence of the language.
