By Rick Dzida
The ongoing parliamentary ad hoc committee investigation into the tragic plane crash of former Vice President Saulos Chilima is, on paper, performing its civic duty.
By convening a diverse panel of committee members and summoning witnesses from every socio-economic stratum, parliament has correctly acknowledged that the truth does not belong exclusively to the elite.
In a nation, currently suffocating under severe economic hardships under the Mutharika’s administration, these public broadcasted proceedings have inadvertently become Malawi’s premier form of national entertainment but not undermining Mkulukutamoyo’s good will to fulfil his campaign promise of unearthing the secrecy behind Chilima’s alleged political assassination demise.
But let us be radically clear: a tragic national disaster is not a reality TV show, and the marginalized community members stepping forward are not there for the amusement or cross-examination episode .
Truth be told, this current phase is strictly a fact-finding mission. It is a stage where any citizen, regardless of their literacy level, academic accolades, or professional background or previous analytical reports, has a constitutional right to offer what they saw and heard.
The committee’s mandate is painfully simple: ask targeted questions to extract missing information. It is not to render premature, condescending verdicts during public interviews.
When committee members begin judging testimony on live camera, they actively terrorize future volunteers, driving crucial information into the shadows out of fear of public humiliation.
For instance, the interrogation of community witnesses like Ephraim Duma, Flora Mkandawire, and the gentleman Mr. Chirwa has been both exhilarating and profoundly revealing. These are ordinary citizens stepping into the lion’s den out of pure patriotism whose testimony obviously is subject to further verification by the committee.
Yet, certain committee members have flagrantly crossed the line into personal, weaponized territory. For example ,the auditing of Ephraim Duma’s marital cordiality was a grotesque invasion of privacy that had absolutely zero bearing on aviation disaster.
Worse still was the elitist, toxic attempt to audit Duma’s English fluency by forcing him to read an on-the-spot script—a blatant attempt to intellectually bully a witness.
Gladly, Duma’s brilliant, biting rebuttal—jokingly rejecting the test by stating he lacked his short sighted eye assisting binoculars to enlarge the text—was a masterclass in defiance. It was a marvellous spectacle.
It is precisely against this backdrop of elitist posturing that we must loudly laud Walter Nyamilandu as the chair of parliamentary ad hoc committee. At least, plastic smiles were gleaned somewhere on his face while bringing sanity to the session.
In an environment where the professionally disadvantaged are easily steamrolled by high-ranking politicians and legal eagles, Nyamilandu’s interventions to shield and protect these vulnerable witnesses from intellectual elitism are commendable. He has rightfully recognized that a lack of formal education or professional stature does not invalidate a person’s eyes and ears.
Nyamilandu’s leadership was most prominent when he publicly put the interrogators in their place, declaring that the committee’s immediate job is to listen to every side of the story—regardless of a witness’s background—and leave the fact-checking to forensic and pathological investigations later.
