How MCP Took the Loyalty of Its Members and the Central Region For Granted: Lessons from the 2020 – 2025 Political Cycle

When the Malawi Congress Party (MCP) returned to power in June 2020 through the court-ordered Fresh Presidential Election, the triumph was anchored almost entirely in the unwavering loyalty of the Central Region—particularly Lilongwe and surrounding districts.

For nine months, thousands of young people, activists, and party loyalists marched across the country demanding electoral justice. The street demonstrations of 2019–2020 were powered largely by Central Region citizens who viewed Lazarus Chakwera as a symbol of national renewal and democratic hope.

Yet five years later, as Malawi approached the 2025 polls, MCP faced a dramatic collapse of enthusiasm among the very people who lifted it to State House. The question remains: What went wrong? This is a story of political miscalculations, regional alienation, controversial appointments, unmet campaign promises, and a widening disconnect between leadership and its loyal base.

Between 2019 and 2020, MCP supporters from Lilongwe, Kasungu, Mchinji, Ntchisi, Dedza, and Nkhotakota marched almost daily—risking arrests, tear gas, job losses, and violence demanding nullification of the disputed 2019 election.

Yet soon after assuming office in July 2020, President Chakwera made a statement that landed harshly on the ears of those same supporters: “I cannot afford to support each one of you from Nsanje to Chitipa. You send me messages every day threatening me that I have forgotten you.” Across the Central Region, the remark was interpreted as a dismissal of the foot soldiers who had sacrificed for MCP’s return to power.

Instead of empowering long-standing MCP members—many of them educated professionals ready to serve—Chakwera was accused of disproportionately appointing individuals from the Malawi Assemblies of God, where he had served as President for 24 years before entering politics. This raised concerns within MCP strongholds that party loyalty had been overlooked in favour of religious networks.

The perception of imbalance deepened when nearly 10 cabinet ministers were appointed from Lilongwe alone, leaving Kasungu, Mchinji, Ntchisi, Nkhotakota, and Dedza feeling sidelined. Only Dowa seemed to maintain consistent representation. A party that had long styled itself as “the home of the Central Region” now faced growing criticism from the very districts that built its legacy.

Concerns about family influence also escalated. One example frequently raised by critics was the controversial UK trip during the COVID-19 lockdown, where the President travelled with his wife, daughter, and son-in-law—while the Foreign Affairs Minister, who would normally oversee such diplomatic duties, remained at home. Ironically, due to COVID restrictions, Chakwera ended up attending the event virtually.

As economic hardship worsened between 2021 and 2023—marked by rising food prices, persistent fuel shortages, severe forex scarcity, and failing public services—the Central Region felt increasingly abandoned.

A widely circulated narrative further damaged the administration’s image: allegations that families in Kasiya, the President’s home area, were receiving payouts said to be as high as K830,000 per individual per month. Whether accurate or exaggerated, the perception of selective benefit created a sense of betrayal among suffering communities.

Meanwhile, the economy continued to deteriorate. The cost of living soared, basic goods became scarce, and the government struggled to stabilise the kwacha. Many campaign promises—youth jobs, reduced presidential travel, improved governance, and lower cost of living—remained unfulfilled. The disappointment was palpable.

The passport crisis of 2022–2024 became a national embarrassment. Passport production nearly collapsed, and speculation—though disputed—linking the President’s son, Nick Chakwera, to passport system contracts intensified public frustration. Even without confirmed evidence, the perception alone was politically destructive.

Adding to the national sense of uncertainty was the mysterious death of Vice President Dr. Saulos Klaus Chilima in a plane crash in June 2024. Many Malawians demanded answers that never came, and the unresolved questions deepened national anxiety and political distrust.

On the other end of the spectrum, the consequences of earlier political unrest lingered. The killing of a police officer at Nsundwe during the violent 2019 demonstrations remained a reminder of the deep societal wounds that had never fully healed.

As for MCP’s once-reliable religious support base, the clergy from Nkhoma Synod, Assemblies of God, and several faith networks that had mobilised heavily in 2020 were visibly absent by 2025. Many privately expressed disappointment in what they perceived as a government that lost direction and violated their expectations of integrity and servant leadership.

Chakwera’s selection of Dr. Michael Usi Mumba as running mate for 2025 deepened internal rifts. Senior party officials and grassroots organizers opposed the choice, leading many to quietly withdraw from campaign activities. Ultimately, the campaign trail was spearheaded only by Chakwera, Richard Chimwendo Banda, Jessie Kabwila, and Mumba—while much of the party machinery sat out in silence. In politics, silence is fatal.

In the end, MCP’s 2025 defeat underscored a painful reality: parties that ignore their loyal supporters eventually lose them. Highly qualified MCP professionals were overlooked. Trusted cadres felt abandoned. Outsiders occupied influential roles. And millions of disenchanted supporters simply stayed home.

The Central Region—once MCP’s impenetrable fortress—sent a message that no political party should ever forget. The lesson is straightforward: Do not sideline loyal members. Do not reward strangers at the expense of your own base. Do not mistake silence for support. Loyalty has an expiry date.

Just ask the Malawi Congress Party—and Lazarus Chakwera—who entered the 2025 election counting on their financial muscle, the Central Region, and more than three million registered voters, only to discover that the ground beneath them had shifted.