By Jones Gadama
On the cold morning of 26 September 1992, twelve men were hanged at Zomba Prison, their lives extinguished under the shadow of the Malawi Congress Party (MCP) government led by the late President Hastings Kamuzu Banda.
These executions marked Malawi’s last use of the death penalty, leaving behind a chilling legacy of fear, political repression, and unresolved sorrow that haunts the nation to this day.
The names of the twelve—Winston Kabenthu, Style Phiri, Tobet Kamwendo, Leston Simba, Davison Maponda, George Sukali, Wilson Mwale Ngozo, Thenson Thomas, Lyson Nkhoma, Laurence Zuze, Bonfasio Petro, and Emmanuel Masaka—are forever etched in the grim history of Malawi.
Amnesty International documented their executions, revealing a harrowing truth: four of these men were condemned not for crimes of violence, but for political dissent.
They were accused of refusing to buy MCP party cards or failing to provide party cloth for their wives—small acts of defiance in a system that demanded absolute loyalty.
One man, in an act of desperate humanity, chose to buy maize for his starving family instead of party cloth, sealing his fate.
The Catholic bishops of Malawi—Bishop Felix Eugenio Mkhori, Bishop James Chiona, and Bishop Patrick Chisale—pleaded with Dr. Banda to commute these death sentences to life imprisonment. Their appeal was met not with mercy but with cold fury.
Banda, fearful and unyielding, threatened the bishops with a terrifying warning: they too might be thrown to the crocodiles if they persisted.
That same day, he traveled to Zomba, personally signing the death warrants. By 3 a.m., the executions were carried out by hanging, a grim ritual of state violence.
Malawi, at that time, lacked an official hangman. The executioner was hired from South Africa and Zimbabwe, paid handsomely for his grim task.
This outsourcing of death underscored the chilling detachment with which the regime treated human life—as if it were a commodity to be bought and sold.
The MCP’s reign was marked not only by these brutal executions but also by a deep-seated climate of fear and repression.
The party’s notorious involvement in staging accidents, such as the Mwanza tragedy and the Chilima plane crash, only deepened the wounds inflicted on a grieving nation.
These events, shrouded in suspicion and controversy, have never been fully explained, casting a long shadow over Malawi’s political landscape.
President Kamuzu Banda’s courage was not in the noble sense but rather a terrifying resolve to crush dissent at any cost. His actions left countless families in mourning, a society silenced by fear, and a nation burdened by the weight of injustice.
The MCP’s continued existence serves as a painful reminder of this dark chapter.
For Malawi to heal, the MCP must be held accountable for its past. The party’s registration should be reconsidered, for its legacy is one of death, despair, and deception. The names of those twelve men, and the stories of their unjust deaths, demand remembrance—not erasure.
They are a haunting testament to the dangers of unchecked power and the urgent need for justice in Malawi’s future.
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