I once heard that good character is a lucrative currency. What I did not know is that every currency has an area of jurisdiction. It is not every country that honours integrity. In some places, integrity is an outright liability— and Malawi is quickly gliding in that direction.
There was a time in Malawi when having a child outside wedlock was a cause for scorn. Society frowned upon you. Women hid their pregnancies in shame. Men distanced themselves from the pregnancies and, in some cases, relocated to shake off any trace of responsibility.
Today, things have changed. A woman who has a child outside marriage is less likely to be treated as a social outcast. A man who fathers a child and walks away may still face criticism, but increasingly, society appears to have developed a remarkable capacity for accommodation. What was once considered a serious moral failure can now be dismissed with a shrug: “These things happen.”
Perhaps that change is not entirely bad. Societies evolve, and compassion should replace cruelty. But there is a larger question we must ask: in becoming more tolerant, have we also become less accountable? Because there is a difference between compassion and moral indifference. And this question extends far beyond sexual morality.
Malawians were once known for being hardworking, disciplined and trustworthy. Our grandparents left behind a reputation for diligence and reliability in the mines of Salisbury and the Copperbelt. Malawian workers were sought after because they were considered dependable. The reputation of the Malawian worker travelled farther than the individual worker.
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That reputation was a form of national capital.
It was not written on a banknote. It was not deposited in a bank. But it had value. A Malawian’s word meant something. Today, one wonders whether we have squandered some of that inheritance.
There was a time when corruption was spoken of almost in whispers. It existed, of course—let us not romanticise the past. Human beings have always been capable of dishonesty. But there appeared to be a stronger social boundary between what was acceptable and what was shameful.
Today, the boundaries appear increasingly blurred. The question is no longer simply, “Did you do wrong?” It is increasingly:
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“How much did you get?”
“Who do you know?”
“Which side are you on?”
“Can someone make the problem disappear?”
And that is where a nation begins to lose its moral compass. We have developed an uncomfortable habit of admiring the fruits of corruption while pretending to despise corruption itself.
We condemn the corrupt politician until he helps our village. We condemn the businessman accused of wrongdoing until he becomes our benefactor. We condemn nepotism until our own relative gets the job. We condemn political patronage until our own party is in power. We condemn dishonesty in principle but negotiate with it in practice.
And slowly, almost imperceptibly, we teach ourselves that integrity is for the naïve. The honest civil servant who refuses to sign an irregular transaction becomes “difficult.”The employee who refuses to manipulate figures becomes “uncooperative.”
The young graduate without connections watches less qualified people walk through doors that remain firmly closed to him.
And then we tell our children:
“Work hard. Be honest. Do the right thing.”
But our children are watching.
They see who succeeds.
They see who gets contracts.
They see who gets promoted.
They see who is investigated and who is protected.
They see people acquire unexplained wealth and become respected rather than questioned.
They see integrity preached from podiums and compromised behind closed doors.
And eventually they begin to ask a dangerous question:
“What is the point of being honest?”
That question should frighten us more than any corruption scandal.
Because nations do not lose their moral character overnight.
They lose it one compromise at a time.
First, we tolerate a small lie.
Then a small bribe.
Then favouritism.
Then nepotism.
Then the abuse of public resources.
Then we begin defending the very people we once condemned.
Eventually, corruption stops shocking us.
It becomes normal.
And when wrongdoing becomes normal, the person who refuses to participate begins to look abnormal.
That is when integrity becomes a liability.
Malawi does not need more speeches about integrity. It needs a society in which integrity works. A society where honesty is not a handicap. Where competence matters more than connections.
Where public office is a responsibility rather than an opportunity for personal enrichment. Because integrity should not be a liability in Malawi. It should be our most valuable national currency.
