It was a shameful debacle. A muffled wave of murmurs and suppressed laughter rolled across the rally grounds as Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) presidential candidate Arthur Peter Mutharika unveiled what must rank among the most bizarre campaign promises in Malawi’s history.
First came the announcement that a future DPP government would introduce 700 new species of fish into Lake Malawi. Among them—brace yourself—sharks and dolphins. Yes, dolphins, apparently to improve tourism and to give local fishermen “new scope” for their trade.
But even that wasn’t the showstopper.
Then came the real killer line, delivered in a mumbled tone to an already baffled crowd: “Tibweretsa factory yopanga juice wa nsomba. Munamulawapo juice wa nsomba inu? Amakoma kwambiri.” (“We will bring a factory to make drinking juice from fish. Have you ever tasted Fish Juice? It’s very nice and tasty.”)
The audience, stunned into silence, failed to cheer. Instead, pockets of villagers whispered among themselves, shaking their heads.
“Zosatheka izi. Asatinamize awa.” (“That’s not possible. He shouldn’t be lying to us.”)
The two Chinese investors APM introduced during the rally
The bizarre spectacle did not end there. Mutharika proudly introduced a few Chinese “investors” who, he claimed, would bankroll this grand fish juice revolution.
This is how Mutharika and the DPP prey on the gullibility of Malawians, assuming that poverty dulls our ability to distinguish between reality and ridicule. They offer promises that sound less like policy and more like parody, yet expect people to clap.
Quick research shows that so-called “fish juice” does exist in culinary corners of the world. But it is not, as Mutharika suggests, a refreshing beverage. Instead, it refers to:
- Clam juice–a salty broth from steamed clams, used for soups.
- Salmon juice–a byproduct of canning, used for seasoning.
- Fish stock or broth–made from simmering bones and heads, as a base for cooking.
- Tuna oil or liquids–drained from canned fish, for flavoring.
None of these are meant to be served chilled in a glass with a straw. They are ingredients, not drinks. The very thought of Malawians sipping “very tasty” fish juice is culinary comedy at its finest.
As the DPP campaign trail drags on, it increasingly resembles a circus act, with Mutharika cast as the lead clown. His rallies have no discernible theme beyond shouting the same tired slogan: “Mwakhaulatu eti?, to bemused crowds who attend more out of curiosity than conviction.
Instead of articulating solutions to unemployment, food insecurity, or inflation, the DPP offers promises of sharks, dolphins, and a juice factory that belongs in the Guinness Book of Political Absurdities.
From Peter Mutharika to his last campaign surrogate, the message has been consistent only in its bitterness. A politics of vengeance and hatred. A campaign fueled less by ideas for Malawi’s future and more by a desperate attempt to stay relevant, even if through laughter.
While MCP talks jobs and real solutions, the DPP now markets “fish juice” and dolphins. Perhaps unintentionally, they have given Malawians the perfect metaphor for their campaign: Something that smells bad, tastes worse, and is impossible to swallow.
And notice one thing. Through all this theater, the DPP tactfully avoids the one subject that haunts them most—CORRUPTION. On that one, silence reigns.
