By Burnett Munthali
Who really is President Lazarus Chakwera?
In 2019 and 2020, he was marketed as a beacon of hope, a man of God with a moral compass untainted by the stains of political corruption.
He stood on podiums with a Bible in one hand and promises on his lips, vowing to lead Malawians to a new dawn of prosperity, integrity, and servant leadership.
Millions of Malawians, battered by years of misrule, clung to his words with desperation and belief, convinced they had finally found a leader who would put people before politics.
He promised one million jobs for the youth, knowing very well that the economic structure was neither prepared nor funded to absorb such a volume of employment within five years.
Today, youth unemployment remains a raging crisis, with more graduates roaming the streets than ever before.
He vowed to end nepotism, yet appointments in State House and parastatals are filled with familiar faces, relatives, and friends — most of them drawn from the central region or connected to the ruling Malawi Congress Party (MCP) elite.
He promised to deal with corruption head-on, yet under his watch, we have seen grand-scale looting through the Affordable Inputs Programme, the K750 million COVID-19 funds, and mysterious contracts awarded without transparency.
His government has perfected the art of “investigating corruption” without results — shielding perpetrators with political connections while targeting opponents with selective justice.
He told us he was a servant leader who would reduce presidential powers and work toward institutional reform.
Instead, he has grown increasingly imperial in his leadership, surrounding himself with an inner circle that fears accountability and punishes dissent.
In 2020, Chakwera vowed to improve healthcare delivery — yet hospitals across the country are chronically underfunded, understaffed, and undersupplied, with patients sleeping on the floor and dying of preventable conditions.
He spoke eloquently about agricultural transformation, yet farmers continue to suffer under the weight of skyrocketing fertilizer prices, inconsistent access to markets, and poor government policies.
His flagship Affordable Inputs Programme has been a source of pain, riddled with delays, theft, and inefficiency — a far cry from the relief he promised to the poor farmer.
He promised to unite the country, yet tribal and regional divisions have only deepened under his leadership, amplified by partisan appointments and regional favoritism.
When Malawians asked for transparency, he gave them grand speeches with no action.
When they asked for economic relief, he gave them devaluation, inflation, and a worsening cost of living.
The kwacha continues to slide, inflation remains in double digits, and basic necessities are now luxuries for the average Malawian household.
Electricity blackouts have returned with vengeance, water shortages persist, and fuel scarcity is now a seasonal crisis.
President Chakwera said “this is our time,” but for most Malawians, it has become a time of betrayal, suffering, and broken dreams.
The once-celebrated leader has become a master of eloquent failure — charming in rhetoric, disastrous in execution.
The problem is no longer that he inherited a mess — the problem is that he has failed to clean it up and has made it worse.
Malawians voted for a pastor but got a politician who mastered spin and forgot the people who lifted him into office.
In conclusion, President Lazarus Chakwera is no longer the savior he promised to be.
He is the symbol of a squandered opportunity — a leader who talked about transformation but ended up entrenching the very rot he was elected to uproot.
As 2025 approaches, Malawians must ask: Can we afford five more years of eloquent excuses and hollow promises?
The answer lies in the lived reality of every struggling Malawian today.
