Scrap Kamuzu Day: Malawi must stop honoring a legacy written in blood
Jones Gadama
Every year on May 14, Malawi pauses to commemorate Kamuzu Day, a public holiday meant to honor the memory of Dr. Hastings Kamuzu Banda, the country’s first president and leader for 31 years. On the surface it appears to be a day of national remembrance, but in reality it is a day that reopens old wounds for thousands of Malawian families. To continue observing this day is to force the nation to relive a past defined by fear, arbitrary arrests, torture, and state-sponsored killings. It is time for Malawi to scrap Kamuzu Day and stop reminding citizens of atrocities that many are still trying to bury.
Kamuzu Banda ruled Malawi from independence in 1964 until he was defeated in the 1994 multiparty elections. His rule was presented as one of stability and discipline, but the price of that so-called stability was paid in human lives and freedoms. The state he built was one where dissent was equated with treason, where the judiciary bowed to the executive, and where the right to a fair trial existed only on paper. For those who lived through it, Kamuzu Day is not a celebration. It is a reminder of parents who never came home, of brothers who disappeared, and of neighbors who were detained without charge for years.
The most glaring example of this brutality is the case of Albert Muwalo, Kamuzu’s closest friend and trusted aide. Muwalo served Banda faithfully for years, managing state affairs and acting as one of his most loyal lieutenants. Yet in 1983 he was arrested, charged with treason, and hanged alongside three others. The trial was a farce. The charges were trumped up, fabricated to eliminate a man who had become politically inconvenient. Those who presided over the case had no legal training. Muwalo was denied proper legal representation, a right guaranteed even under Banda’s own constitution. Even if he had been given a lawyer, the outcome would have been the same. The case was political from the start. The purpose was not justice, but to send a message to anyone who dared to think independently within the system. Muwalo’s execution remains one of the clearest illustrations of how Kamuzu used the law as a weapon against his own people.
Muwalo was not alone. The list of Malawians who were killed, detained, or exiled under Banda’s orders is long and painful. Dick Matenje, Aaron Gadama, Twaibu Sangala, and David Chiwanga were found dead in a car accident in 1983, a case that the truth commission later concluded was a politically motivated assassination. The victims were senior officials who had fallen out of favor. Their families never received justice. Instead, they were told to accept the official lie. The same pattern repeated across the country. People were arrested at night by the Malawi Young Pioneers, a paramilitary wing loyal to Banda. They were held in Mikuyu Prison, Maula Prison, and detention camps in Mzuzu and Mangochi. Many were tortured. Many never returned.
Kamuzu was quick to sign death sentences. The president had the final say on all capital cases, and he rarely showed mercy. The judiciary operated under his shadow. Judges who tried to act independently were removed. The legal system became an extension of State House, and the result was a climate where no one felt safe. People learned to keep quiet, to avoid talking politics even in their homes, for fear that a word spoken in anger could lead to detention without trial. That is not governance. That is fear management.
The argument that Kamuzu should be remembered for “development” and “discipline” ignores the human cost of that development. Yes, roads were built and schools were opened. But they were built on a foundation of silence and fear. Development that comes at the cost of human dignity is not development at all. It is a contract written in blood, and Malawi should not be forced to renew that contract every May 14.
The clearest indication that Malawians rejected Kamuzu’s style of leadership came in 1993 during the national referendum. The question was simple: should Malawi return to multiparty democracy or retain the one-party system? The answer was equally clear. Over 64 percent of voters chose multiparty democracy. That vote was not just about political systems. It was a verdict on 31 years of one-man rule. It was a rejection of detention without trial, of state violence, and of the culture of fear that Kamuzu embodied. To now celebrate Kamuzu Day is to ignore that verdict. It is to tell Malawians that their rejection of dictatorship was not final, that the man they voted against deserves a national holiday.
A national day of remembrance should unify a country, not divide it. Independence Day unites Malawians across political and regional lines because it marks liberation from colonial rule. Martyrs Day honors those who died fighting for freedom. Kamuzu Day does the opposite. It divides. For the families of those killed or detained under his regime, the day is a reminder of grief that never fully healed. Children who grew up without fathers because of political detention are asked to sing praises to the man who signed the orders. Widows who never received the bodies of their husbands are expected to treat May 14 as a day of pride. That is not reconciliation. That is reopening wounds for political convenience.
Some argue that keeping Kamuzu Day is about preserving history, about not forgetting the past. But remembrance does not require a public holiday. History is taught in schools, documented in archives, and debated in public spaces. Germany does not have a Hitler Day to remember its past. South Africa does not have an Apartheid Day. They remember through museums, truth commissions, and education. Malawi can do the same without dedicating a national holiday to a man whose legacy is inseparable from state violence.
The continued observance of Kamuzu Day also sends the wrong signal to young Malawians. It tells them that leadership is about power and control, not about service and accountability. It tells them that if you rule long enough and build enough infrastructure, the killings and detentions will be forgiven and even celebrated. That is a dangerous lesson in a country still struggling with political violence and abuse of power. If Malawi is serious about building a democratic culture, it must be consistent. You cannot teach constitutionalism and human rights in classrooms while honoring a leader who violated both for three decades.
There is also the question of resources. May 14 is a public holiday. Government offices close, schools shut down, and the state spends money on official functions to mark the day. That money could be used to support victims of political violence, to fund trauma counseling for families, or to strengthen institutions that protect human rights. Instead, it is spent on ceremonies that honor a man who denied those rights to thousands.
Scrapping Kamuzu Day does not mean erasing history. It means choosing which parts of history deserve national celebration. Malawi has heroes who fought for democracy, for workers’ rights, and for human dignity. People like Chakufwa Chihana, Vera Chirwa, and countless unnamed activists who paid the price for speaking out. Their stories deserve to be remembered. Their sacrifices built the Malawi we have today. Kamuzu’s story is one of power consolidated and abused. It belongs in the history books as a warning, not on the national calendar as a celebration.
The relatives of those killed under Banda have never been given a proper apology or closure. Many still do not know where their loved ones are buried. For them, May 14 is not a day of reflection but a day of fresh tears. Tears that had dried up are brought back every year by speeches, parades, and media coverage that frame Banda as a founding father without acknowledging the cost of his founding. A nation cannot move forward if it forces its citizens to relive trauma every year in the name of tradition.
Malawi’s Constitution is built on the values of human dignity, equality, and the rule of law. Honoring Kamuzu Day contradicts those values. It honors a leader who ruled outside the law, who denied citizens their rights, and who used the state to silence opponents. If the Constitution matters, then the national calendar must reflect it. A day that celebrates a leader who undermined the Constitution has no place in a constitutional democracy.
The time has come for Parliament to revisit the Public Holidays Act and remove Kamuzu Day. Replace it with a day of national healing or a day to honor all victims of political violence, regardless of which regime they suffered under. That would be a holiday that unites rather than divides. It would acknowledge the pain of the past without glorifying the perpetrators.
Malawians spoke in 1993. They said they wanted a new beginning. Keeping Kamuzu Day undermines that beginning. It tells the world that Malawi is not yet ready to fully break with its authoritarian past. It tells the victims’ families that their pain is secondary to political nostalgia.
Kamuzu Banda’s legacy is complex, but the parts that involve death sentences, show trials, and the killing of trusted allies cannot be sanitized. To commemorate him is to commemorate those acts. Malawi deserves better. The country deserves holidays that inspire hope, not holidays that remind people why they fled into exile, why they stopped talking politics, and why they buried their dead in secret.
Scrap Kamuzu Day. Let history judge him in the archives, not in the streets of Lilongwe every May 14. Malawians have moved on. The calendar should move on too.
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