On July 6, we found ourselves gathering again to commemorate (or is it to celebrate?) our independence from British colonial rule. History has it that in the early years of our independence, this day used to be grand. People in all corners of the country would wake up feeling brand-new, proud and rejuvenated. The day symbolised rebirth and the promise of new hope and possible promising futures.
But over the years, that energy has waned and July 6 has become a day that reminds us of what we have failed to achieve. Today, a dark cloud of pessimism covers the land on July 6.
The history of our country has, so far, been one of counting loses. When the colonisers left, people looked forward to better lives since the thinking was that our fate would be in our own hands, or at least in people who looked like us.
In the 1960s, the spirit of nationalism raged across the continent and Africans were allowed to dream for the first time. But some wise men saw beyond this euphoria and warned of the many pitfalls of independence the new nations were likely to face.
Among them, French-Algerian scholar Frantz Fanon foresaw the possibility of systemic corruption, nepotism and tribalism as some of the challenges likely to grip postcolonial states. And this is the song we are singing today.
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The biggest challenge for Malawi has been lack of ambition. For some reason, we found ourselves in a place where we are not keen to achieve anything. Politicians have slowly but successfully inculcated a spirit of dependency in the masses, who no longer see themselves as agents of change.
They have made sure that the majority of the poor live hand-to-mouth and are at the mercy of the ruling elite.
This ensures that the masses don’t bite the hand that feeds them and that they run straight to the ballot to vote for their benefactors when election time comes.
In exchange, they are given a bag of fertiliser and some portion of seed, meagre enough to keep them on a leash.
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Apart from that, the politicians have also ensured that they divide this small country along tribal lines in order to consolidate their power, which they get through tribal affiliation. This has led to the loss of the spirit of nationalism in the citizens, who no longer see themselves as one people but rather as rivals competing for the national cake.
Unfortunately, those who waste their time castigating each other on tribal grounds do not eat any portion of the cake, for they are never invited to dine on such high tables.
The table is reserved for the political elite and they eat the cake while their slaves fight. Through this, cronyism has found fertile ground where we see politicians rewarding each other with top jobs, ministerial posts, diplomatic positions and other benefits–creating a small group of elites to trample over the masses. This is how the sixty years of independence have been wasted here.
What such neglect for the country and its people has done is to buildup anger and frustration, especially in the youth. Most of the people who were born at independence have retired. They are now sixty.
This means that the most active of the citizenry today only get to hear about the evils of colonial rule, which they never experienced. The only thing they know is the affliction of freedom. This is why we hear ignorant statements like “we were better-off under the rule of the colonisers”.
Our post-independence disillusionment is deep-rooted such that we yearn for slavery. This is the quintessence of frustration.
The failures of the state in the last sixty years are a recipe for disaster. The current regime should know that they are dealing with a frustrated population with bottled-up anger.
What recently happened in Kenya, where the youth protested against State oppression, should be a wake-up call to the old-guards in power across the continent. There is just so much people can take. As we meditate on how the powerful have failed us, Langstone Hughes’ poem, ‘Harlem’, comes to mind:
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–and then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat? … or does it explode?
