Malawi

And then there was Malawi. Wedged between Zambia, Tanzania and Mozambique, Malawi is not to be confused with Mali, in the northeast of the African continent. 6 July sees Malawi celebrate its Independence Day, as in 1964 it declared its independence from the United Kingdom and, on the same date, in 1966 became a republic.

Until the 19th century, the rest of the world left Malawi alone—the early Khoisan inhabitants were gradually replaced by Bantu tribes and the Chewa people established the Maravi state in the 16th century. The early to mid 19th century saw the Zulu-related Ndwandwe arrive.

Then came Europe, at first in the form of David Livingstone. (Yes—he of “Dr Livingstone, I presume?” fame. There’s a city called Livingstonia in the country. You think it could be related?) Following his visit, Scottish Presbyterian churches suddenly started cropping up, people by missionaries, and in 1891 Britain established the British Central African Protectorate, which became, in 1907, the Nyasaland Protectorate. Through the 20th century, Malawians moved toward independence—they made many attempts before their success in the 1960s. When Malawi became a republic it also declared a one-party state. It took some time to turn this around, but eventually pressure from within and without led to a referendum, and in 1993 the people of Malawi voted for multi-party democracy. In 1994 elections that were deemed free and fair were held in the country and Bakili Muluzi, leader of the United Democratic Front, was elected president. In 2004 the country saw it’s first transition between democratically elected presidents—reading this, I’m suddenly aware that seeing this shift happen for the first time must be a moment of anxiety in states that have only recently adopted democracy. That said, the 2004 election was also subject of debate—observers expressed concern over what they described as “serious inadequacies” in the polling.

And what about Malawi itself? It’s subtropical, with the Great Rift Valley running from north to south through the country. (The Great Rift Valley runs from Syria to Mozambique—a newly acquired fact for the day, for me at least.) Oh, and lets not forget Madonna’s commitment to Malawi—when a celebrity adopts a child from a third-world country, suddenly everyone’s concerned. But you know, famine and HIV were a problem before Madonna shed light on it… I guess there are so many regions that share these problems that it takes a celebrity to make it a story again. I’m really interested to read, as well, that the government of Taiwan donates millions of bags of rice to Malawi each year and has a permanent aid mission in the country.

And there are a number of Malawian poets whose work is available in anthologies. The poem I’ve chosen for today is by one of the best-known of these poets, Jack Mapanje. It comes from the anthology Against Forgetting, and so, in keeping with the theme of that anthology, is a poem of witness.


After Wiriyamu Village Massacre by Portuguese

No, go back into your exile, go back quick.
When those Portuguese soldiers abducted
Falencha’s baby quietly strapped on her back
And scattered its precious brain on Falencha’s
Own maize grinding stone, when those soldiers
Grabbed and hacked Dinyero’s only son
With Dinyero herself stubborning watching
Or when they burnt down Faranando in his own
Hut as he tried to save Alefa his senile wife—
Where, where was your hand? Tell me that!
And if you helped Adrian Hastings report
The Portuguese atrocities to humans, where,
Where is your verse? You have no shame!
No, go back until our anger has simmered.

—Jack Mapanje
from Against Forgetting: Twentieth Century Poetry of Witness