By Staff Reporter
Former President Lazarus McCarthy Chakwera owes Malawians a public, unambiguous apology—and he owes it now. Not tomorrow. Not wrapped in scripture. Not diluted by excuses, committees, or legal technicalities. A plain apology.
Under his administration, Malawi was rocked by scandal after scandal: alleged looting at Greenbelt Authority, NOCMA, and the East Bank–West Bank (East Bridge) project. These were not small accounting errors or isolated lapses. They involved billions of kwacha, at a time when ordinary Malawians were sinking deeper into poverty, hunger, and despair. This was not the “new dawn” Malawians were promised. It was a nightmare.
Dr. Chakwera came to power on a moral pedestal. He sold himself as a reformer, a pastor-president who would “clear the rubble” of corruption and restore integrity to public life. Malawians did not just vote for him; they trusted him morally. That trust was profound—and it was abused.
Under his watch, corruption did not retreat. It flourished.
Let us be clear: this is not about whether courts will eventually convict individuals. That process belongs to the judiciary. This is about political and moral responsibility. Chakwera was Head of State and Government. He appointed ministers. He presided over institutions. He enjoyed the power, privilege, and praise that came with office. He cannot now posture as a powerless spectator to the rot that defined his tenure.
When scandal after scandal erupted, Malawians expected leadership. They expected empathy. They expected a president who would stand before the nation and say, “This happened under my watch, and I take responsibility.” Instead, they got silence—cold, detached, and arrogant silence.
There was no heartfelt address to a nation watching its future being looted. No urgent sense of betrayal on behalf of suffering citizens. No visible anger at the plunder of public resources. What Malawians saw was a leader insulated by State House walls, seemingly more concerned with comfort, image, and legacy than accountability.
That is failure. Total failure.
An apology is not a favour to Malawians. It is a debt. It is the bare minimum moral obligation of a leader whose administration presided over unprecedented allegations of theft and institutional collapse. Refusing to apologise only hardens public suspicion—that there is no remorse, no shame, and no genuine understanding of the pain inflicted on the nation.
History is ruthless to leaders who hide behind silence. Without an apology, Lazarus Chakwera’s legacy will be sealed not as a reformer who stumbled, but as a president under whom Malawi effectively had no leadership—only sermons, slogans, and sanctimony while the country was stripped bare.
Malawians are not asking for miracles. They are asking for honesty.
Dr. Chakwera must look Malawians in the eye and say the simplest, hardest truth of all:
“I failed you. I am sorry.”
Anything less is cowardice. Anything less is contempt for the people he once swore to serve.
