By Durell Namasani
Malawi’s Parliament descended into farce on Monday, and the man at the centre of it was none other than Youth, Sports and Culture Minister Alfred Gangata. What should have been a routine parliamentary session instead became a painful spectacle—one that laid bare the alarming mediocrity Malawi has come to accept as normal from its Cabinet ministers.
Gangata, clutching prepared notes, struggled through his speech line by line. “Mr Speaker Sir, I beg to propose… I beg to present the paper… under item 3C31, 3C32, 3C3,” he read slowly, stumbling over basic English words. When he finally managed “I beg to move,” the chamber erupted—not in respect, but in cheers and handclaps. Even Speaker Sameer Suleman could barely contain his laughter, asking with a visible grin: “Do you wish to speak to your papers?” Gangata’s response? A simple “No”—he would refer the matter to committee instead.
This is not an isolated incident. Gangata has long been a target of public ridicule over his grammar and difficulty delivering speeches in English, even with scripts in hand. His recent gaffe—“My people, my football”—has become a national punchline. And on Monday, when an MP posed a question, he could not answer, instead relying on the excuse that he would have to return to his office to find the answer.
This is the standard to which Malawi’s Cabinet has sunk. A minister who cannot read, cannot speak, and cannot think on his feet. A man who turns Parliament into a laughing stock.
Make no mistake—this is not about elitism or snobbery. It is about basic competence. How can a nation expect progress when its leaders cannot articulate policy, cannot defend their ministries, and cannot engage in the simplest parliamentary exchange?
Alfred Gangata may be a self-made businessman and a popular figure with crowds, but popularity is not a substitute for capability. He should not be anywhere near a ministerial position. Malawi deserves better than this embarrassment. The question is: why have we accepted so little?
