These past few days, Malawians have witnessed a surreal and heartbreaking political spectacle, a former president of the republic being paraded like a puppet, clearly struggling with age, fatigue, and declining health, all to serve the desperate ambitions of a political cabal too greedy to let go of power.
It’s not leadership. It’s not politics. It’s a slow-motion abuse of dignity.
Former President Arthur Peter Mutharika (APM), once a celebrated legal mind and head of state, now moves with the caution of a man battling fragility—slow, unsteady, and visibly burdened by the passage of time.
What played out at Bingu International Convention Centre (BICC) during his nomination presentation on Friday, July 25, was a painful sight for many Malawians.
APM staggering across the podium, expressionless and disengaged, needing a ring of bodyguards positioned on both sides like human scaffolding to prevent collapse and ready for action.
Moments later, he was slumped in his chair, caught on camera appearing to doze off, snoring, even, while proceedings continued around him.
It was a moment that confirmed what many had feared for months.
Arthur Peter Mutharika is not well. He is no longer physically or mentally fit to endure the rigours of presidential politics. And yet, here he is. Thrust back onto the frontlines by those who claim to love and support him. What kind of love demands a man risk his life for a cause he had already abandoned?
This is not an indictment of aging. Growing old is a privilege. There is no shame in age-related fatigue or health complications. APM has lived a full life. He is a respected international lawyer. He taught at prestigious institutions, wrote acclaimed legal works, and served his country as Minister, President, and elder statesman.
After all these, in his own words and deeds, he had signaled an intention to retire from the harsh glare of frontline politics.
After losing the 2020 presidential election, following a constitutional court ruling that nullified the Tipp-Ex tainted 2019 elections, Mutharika announced his exit from active politics. He even started grooming a successor, his technocrat nephew, Dr. Dalitso Kabambe, to take over the DPP’s reins and chart a new path forward for the party.
But then came the betrayal. Not by political enemies, but by those closest to him.
It is no secret that Mutharika is now effectively a hostage of what many in DPP inner circles call “the Ntcheu cabal”, a group of self-interested political operators united not by ideology or vision, but by blood ties, regional loyalty, and the hunger to control party finances and decision-making.
At the heart of this cabal is Gertrude Maseko Mutharika, APM’s wife and a key influence in the decision to bring him back from retirement.
A loyal daughter of Ntcheu herself, Maseko is said to have resisted the idea of APM handing over power to Dalitso Kabambe or any other DPP hopeful. She wanted her husband to remain the party’s torchbearer in 2025, not because of his capacity to win, but because of the influence and control his candidacy guarantees the family circle.
Joining her in this project are other Ntcheu power brokers. Norman “Pythius Hiwa” Chisale, the controversial former presidential bodyguard and shadow enforcer during Mutharika’s presidency; and now, Justice Dr. Jane Ansah, yes, the infamous “Tipp-Ex Lady”, whom Mutharika has bizarrely selected as his running mate.
Together, they complete what insiders now call “The Ntcheu Cabal”, a regionalist clique that has pushed out seasoned DPP figures like Bright Msaka, Ben Phiri and Joseph Mwanamvekha, manipulated primary elections in Ntcheu South East, where Jane Ansah was dubiously handed a victory over Everton Chimulirenji to pave way for into the second most powerful seat while ignoring party elders and traditional allies.
What is Mutharika’s motivation in all this?
Financially, the man wants for nothing. In his asset declaration, he listed over $10 million in wealth including property in the USA, homes in Lilongwe, Mangochi, and Nyambadwe, and billions of kwacha. He enjoys the lifetime perks of being a former head of state: state security, subsidized travel, free fuel and food, and all the privileges that come with retirement in honor.
His children are grown, living comfortably in the United States. He has nothing left to prove politically, having governed for six years and led one of Malawi’s most ambitious, albeit flawed, infrastructure agendas.
But here he is, prodded out of peace and pulled into battle, not by duty, but by manipulation. The farcical images at BICC tell it all. This is not a leader, this is a prisoner in a suit.
He rarely smiles. His speeches are slurred, half-hearted, and uninspiring. At the event, he looked more like a man being dragged to his own sentencing than someone chasing his dream—the presidency with fire in his belly.
Mutharika has become a tragic figure. A cautionary tale of what happens when power becomes a cage.
There was a time when Mutharika stood above the fray. After the death of his brother Bingu wa Mutharika in 2012, when party elites plotted to prevent then Vice President Joyce Banda from ascending to power, it was Peter Mutharika who, despite political pressure, convinced some in the inner circle to respect constitutional order. Joyce Banda was allowed to lead. Democracy was preserved.
How ironic, then, that today APM cannot even preserve his own dignity. The man who once fought for constitutionalism is now being pushed against his will into a race he clearly cannot endure.
What’s worse, he now shares the ballot with Joyce Banda, a woman who, for her own part, has made an equally bizarre decision to run with Khumbo Kachali, her former Vice President, under whose joint leadership Malawi witnessed the biggest public finance scandal in its history: Cashgate.
Joyce Banda and Khumbo Kachali—the “Cashgate Duo”—are now back, seeking to convince Malawians that they deserve a second chance.
This is the same Joyce Banda who told Malawians to forget the billions lost under her watch, and the same Khumbo Kachali who vanished from politics after being sidelined in 2014, only to now return as if nothing happened.
On the other side, Peter Mutharika is trying to convince the nation that Jane Ansah, the woman who presided over the most chaotic election in Malawi’s history, is a credible candidate for vice presidency. Let that sink in. The DPP is campaigning on the memory of a stolen election, while claiming it was the best ever run.
What a sorry circus this election has become.
In all this APM is not a villain. But he is a victim. And if anyone cares about the values he once stood for, then we must say clearly and loudly: Let the old man rest.
He deserves better. Malawi deserves better. And 2025 must be the year we finally break free from recycled politics and begin anew.
Malawians must see through this cruel theater. This is not a competition of ideas. It is a pageant of broken dreams and broken men and women. Both Mutharika and Banda had their chances. They failed spectacularly and were voted out.
The return of these failed leaders is not a sign of strength. It is a sign of political decay. It is a failure of succession planning in our political parties. It is the result of weak democratic institutions that allow cabals to hijack processes for their own enrichment.
Peter Mutharika deserves rest. He earned it. But the people around him, the Getrude Masekos, Norman Chisales, and Jane Ansahs of this world, do not care about him. They care about preserving their access to power, their ability to influence contracts, and their protection from prosecution.
It is up to Malawians to say: Enough.
