By THE SATIRIST, WHO PREFERS NSIMA OVER DISCOUNTED BIRYANI
Dear Son of the Soil,
It’s time we talk. Not in whispers. Not through forwarded audios or half-loaded tweets. But clearly. Loud enough for Blantyre to hear, and bold enough for Lilongwe to deny.
There’s a coup brewing. Not the Traoré kind that excites Pan-Africanists and sends Western diplomats into spasms. No. Ours is a chilli-flavoured, discount-driven insurrection. Led by former political ghosts and funded, allegedly, by an angry aisle of curry scented capital.
Word on the street is that Norman Chisale, Alfred Gangata, Sameer Suleman, and none other than our fat, beloved deputy mayor, yes, you guessed it, Jomo Osman, aka Ntopwa 1, are rallying troops in every district. Not to campaign. Not to canvass. But to create confusion should the elections not go in their favour.
And allegedly, the funding? Ah yes…
Enter the Curry Cartel: our dear friends from the high streets of Limbe and the penthouses of Dubai. The Asian business community. Not all, mind you. But enough to warrant a paragraph. Reliable sources say the Limbe Mafia is leading the funding efforts of the disgraced DPP, in a calculated bid to destabilise the elections, overturn the democratic order, and reinstate the gravy train (or perhaps curry train) of unchecked parastatal procurement and sweetheart tenders.
Make no mistake. This is not a political movement. It’s a corporate-backed coup. A hostile takeover dressed in democracy’s clothing. The aim is not to win by vote but to win by volume. Volume of noise. Volume of chaos. Volume of paid protest disguised as people power.
The Sweet Smell of Self Interest (and Discounted Spices)
Let’s call it what it is: panic. The MCP led administration, for the first time in decades, opened the tender book and didn’t automatically turn to Patel, Latif or Osman. Suddenly, black entrepreneurs were invited to the table. And just like that, the gods of generational procurement began to tremble.
How dare the black zots be empowered?
And now, in a fit of economic rage, they’re allegedly funding instability to reset the table. Not to save democracy. But to save contracts.
Let’s Talk Sattar
If you needed a case study in curry-coated corruption, Zuneth Sattar was your Harvard thesis. An Indian origin businessman who managed to turn state capture into a weekend hobby. The DPP. The Army. Saulos Chilima. All sprinkled on his invoice list like masala on goat curry.
Yet, today, some of the same people who benefited from his generosity are leading the resistance against “rigged democracy.”
Forgive me, but that’s like the head chef blaming the patrons for food poisoning.
CSR or PR?
Now, they’ll say: “But we give back. We built a school. We donated maize. We once sponsored a netball team.”
Yes. And?
While your warehouse manager sends K10 billion to Pakistan every quarter.
While your family owns villas in Dubai but your Malawian staff are still on K180,000 employment contracts.
While you preach patriotism, but your loyalty is wired in pounds and rupees.
Compare and Contrast
As an example of what it means when the black boy is empowered, take FDH Bank. Under Mpinganjira’s, it built SME lending into a national pillar. It bet on the black entrepreneur. And while Indian led First Capital Bank may plaster its logo across every event banner, it openly declared it has “no appetite for SME risk.”
The FDH Bank also launched a programme that supports graduate start-ups to empower our newly minted university graduates.
By virtue of their blackness, FDH understands that GDP doesn’t grow on the backs of imported Range Rovers it grows in the dusty hands of a farmer who just needs a tractor and a fair loan rate and in the youthful new graduates who hold the future of this country.
But FCB?
FCB thinks SMEs are a charity case. That black business is a bad risk. Their boardroom strategy seems to consist of sipping masala tea while muttering, “These people don’t pay.”
Newsflash: if you don’t lend, they don’t grow. If they don’t grow, you don’t have an economy to bank. That’s not credit risk that’s colonial economics in a pinstripe suit.
If that bank were more honest, it would say “No natives beyond this point” on its ATM receipts.
We commend Hitesh Anadkat for his vast donations, but let’s not confuse philanthropy with shared growth. CSR is not equity. Publish the books. Show us your reinvestment in Malawi’s value chain. Because as you’re reading their Big Bullets-inspired billboards, they’re wiring your money to Mauritius. That’s not corporate social responsibility. That’s distraction.
Wake Up, Son of the Soil
You are being distracted by street-level chaos while your economy is being auctioned off in whispers. The DPP talks coups, but has no clear manifesto. They talk freedom, but plot with the “mwana boys” and ex-slavers.
Let’s be clear: if there’s any coup to be accepted, it must be one of economic reclamation. A Black Economic Empowerment policy. Not to replace one elite with another but to correct a market long rigged against us.
If we are serious, we dare government to enforce 51% native ownership of major Asian enterprises. If they truly love Malawi, let them prove it through partnership, not just profit.
Conclusion: No More Free Rice
We have danced at their weddings. We’ve eaten their pilau. We’ve even accepted their Diwali discounts.
But now, the son of the soil must rise. Not with hate, but with clarity.
This land must work for its people not just the privileged few who came with suitcases and now send their children to British schools while claiming “Malawi is home.”
Home is where you invest. Where you risk. Where you stay even when the tenders don’t go your way!
So yes, dear son of the soil: stay alert. Stay proud. And when the next press conference cries foul, ask not who funds the microphone ask who paid for the stage.
