By Jack McBrams
Dear President Lazarus McCarthy Chakwera,
Excuse my candour, but I must admit I was left thoroughly gobsmacked—no, shocked—by your recent confession at the Mining Investment Forum in Lilongwe. There you stood, Malawi’s Head of State, Commander-in-Chief, and Chair of the ATM strategy, admitting that you’re in the dark about the mining deals that could lift this country from its economic deathbed.
I had to double-check the date to ensure it wasn’t April Fool’s Day.
Your Excellency, you said—rather poetically—that it’s unacceptable for Malawians to hear about the rutile operations in Kasiya from an Australian press conference or a stock performance report on the London Stock Exchange. That’s rich. But Sir, what’s even more unacceptable is that you heard about it the same way too.
Mr. President, you’re not a bystander. This is your administration. This is your strategy—Agriculture, Tourism and Mining. Yet somehow, the ‘M’ for Mining seems to be running on autopilot… or worse, on stealth mode.
Let me be blunt: this isn’t just a PR gaffe. It’s a profound leadership crisis.
Let Me Crunch It For You (Because Clearly, No One At The Palace Is)
Today is Labour Day, and the minimum wage in Malawi is K50,000. That’s the same price as a 50kg bag of maize. Yes—our economy has essentially equated labour to lunch. Our people are broke. Bankrupt. Begging.
Meanwhile, mining is sitting like a loaded vault waiting to be unlocked. The Chamber of Mines and Energy estimates that Malawi can generate up to $10 billion (that’s K17 trillion) in mineral exports over the next decade. That’s not just pocket change—that’s the national miracle you’ve been praying for.
The Kasiya Rutile and Graphite Project alone—yes, the one you learned about from London—is projected to earn $645 million annually over a potential 75-year lifespan. It’s not just big—it’s generational. The World Bank has even done the math for you: Malawi’s mining sector could generate $43 billion between 2025 and 2040. That’s $3 billion per year. Our current tobacco earnings? A modest $395 million in 2024—after a “significant” 40% jump.
You see, tobacco is fading faster than our forex reserves. Mining is the next big thing. The only big thing, if we’re being honest.
A System in Secrecy
And yet, mining deals are inked behind closed doors, royalties vanish into thin air, and accountability is as rare as the minerals we’re shipping out. If the Attorney General’s figures are accurate, we’re owed:
$309 million from a US-based gemstone company.
$4 billion from TotalEnergies.
$9.5 million from Turkish tobacco giant Star Agritech.
That’s a grand total of over $4.3 billion in unpaid revenues—300 times Malawi’s national debt and 22 times its GDP.
Let that sink in. We’re knocking on the IMF’s door for a $174 million bailout, while our rightful wealth is being stolen with a handshake and a shrug.
Mr. President, Who’s Running The Show?
The real concern here isn’t just your admission—it’s what it implies. Are you being misled? Ignored? Or worse, have you delegated Malawi’s most important economic opportunity to a team of amateurs with blacked-out briefcases and business cards printed in crayon?
Transparency isn’t just a nice-to-have in the mining sector—it’s oxygen. Without it, we’re back to being a resource-rich, cash-poor cautionary tale. We’ve seen this movie before in the DRC, in Guinea, in Sierra Leone. We know how it ends: with the people holding empty bowls while the elites count dollars in Dubai.
Your job, Sir, isn’t just to be outraged when these things come to light. Your job is to make sure they never happen in the dark.
So, What Now?
Let’s not sugarcoat it: you have some catching up to do. But there’s still time to turn this around—if you take decisive action now.
Audit all current mining contracts. If there are loopholes, close them. If there are crooks, prosecute them.
Introduce mandatory public disclosures for all mining agreements—signatures, terms, royalties, and all.
Strengthen the Ministry of Mining, or better yet, clean house. It’s time for that office to serve Malawians, not multinationals.
LEmpower Malawians with information. If people know what we’re mining, how much we’re earning, and where it’s going, you won’t need to give speeches. The results will speak for you.
And finally, You Excellency, I offer you this deal: If no one in your inner circle has the spine to tell you the truth, hire me (you have my number). I’ll bring spreadsheets, a conscience, and a pair of noise-cancelling headphones—for when the excuses start flowing.