By Falles Kamanga
BLANTYRE-(MaraviPost)-In Malawi, tampering with electricity infrastructure can land an ordinary citizen in prison for years.
But in Limbe, one of the country’s most prominent property developers allegedly brought down part of the power grid—and to this day, has not been held accountable.
At the centre of this troubling story is Faizal Aboo, a Limbe-based businessman behind the Pacific Group of Companies.
On November 19, 2025, his construction activities near a critical substation led to the collapse of two 11kV power lines, plunging parts of Limbe’s busy commercial area into darkness.
Businesses shut down, essential services were disrupted, and livelihoods were thrown into chaos.
Yet months later, there has been no clear punishment, no public accountability, and no full explanation.
The sequence of events raises serious questions. Months before the incident, Pacific Group had approached the Electricity Supply Corporation of Malawi (ESCOM) after realising their construction site was obstructed by high-voltage infrastructure.
ESCOM responded formally, issuing a quotation of K500 million to safely relocate the power lines. This was not a suggestion; it was a requirement.
According to ESCOM spokesperson Pilirani Phiri, that is where compliance ended. The K500 million was never paid. No authorisation was granted. And yet, excavation works went ahead.
Heavy machinery dug deep trenches dangerously close to the substation. The ground became unstable. The soil gave way. Poles carrying the 11kV lines tilted and collapsed. Within moments, large parts of Limbe lost power.
This was not a natural disaster. It was not an accident caused by weather. It was the direct result of ignoring clear technical and legal instructions.
The law on this matter is not vague. Under Malawi’s Electricity Act, damaging or interfering with electricity infrastructure is a serious criminal offence. Those found guilty face up to 30 years in prison without the option of a fine.
Legal experts say the actions in Limbe go beyond negligence—they amount to economic sabotage.
Yet, despite the scale of the damage, the response has been muted.
While small traders and ordinary citizens are often arrested for illegal connections or meter tampering, this case has followed a different path.
Instead of arrests or charges, the matter appears to have been handled quietly. ESCOM formed an internal task team.
An agreement was reached for Pacific Group to construct a retaining wall to stabilise the damaged area. And that was it.
No prosecution. No public sanction. No clear recovery of the K500 million that was initially required.
For many, this feels less like justice and more like accommodation.
The role of the Blantyre City Council has also come under scrutiny. However, questions have been raised about how land so close to a high-voltage substation—an area that should have strict safety controls—was approved for commercial development in the first place.
When pressed for answers, officials passed responsibility from one office to another. Public relations pointed to planning.
Planning declined to comment. Engineering focused only on damaged roads, not the bigger issue of how such a risky development was allowed. The result has been a wall of silence.
Critics say this is not just about one developer. It is about a system that bends for the powerful.
Willy Kambwandira of the Centre for Social Accountability and Transparency says the case exposes a serious governance failure.
He questions how a private company could ignore official instructions, damage national infrastructure, and still avoid meaningful consequences while ordinary citizens face swift punishment for far lesser offences.
From a human rights perspective, the impact has been severe.
Michael Kaiyatsa of the Centre for Human Rights and Rehabilitation says electricity is not a luxury—it is essential for health, safety, and livelihoods.
When the power went out, clinics struggled to keep medicines cold, businesses lost income, and dark streets increased the risk of crime.
For traders in Limbe, the blackout was not just an inconvenience. It was a financial blow. For some, it meant losing perishable goods. For others, it meant days without income.
And yet, the man at the centre of it all has remained largely silent.
Despite initial indications that he would respond, Aboo has not publicly explained his actions or addressed the damage caused.
Today, the situation remains fragile. ESCOM admits that only a few lines are operational, and efforts to fully restore the infrastructure have been slowed by heavy rains.
Limbe’s power supply hangs in the balance—ironically dependent on emergency measures put in place after the damage.
What stands in Limbe now is more than a construction site. It is a symbol of something deeper: a system where rules exist, but are not applied equally.
Where the powerful can ignore a K500 million obligation, bring down part of the power grid, and still walk away without clear consequences.
Until there is a full, independent investigation, cost recovery, and accountability, one question will continue to linger in the darkness:
If this had been an ordinary Malawian, would they still be free?
