By Durell Namasani
The launch of the Beautify Malawi (BEAM) Trust’s new five-year strategic plan at Kamuzu Palace today is a familiar spectacle. We see the gleaming smiles, the handshakes with donors, and the flowery speeches about transforming lives . But for many observant Malawians, this event triggers a question that is as uncomfortable as it is unavoidable: where was BEAM when its founder and patron, Madam Gertrude Mutharika, was out of power?
The silence from 2020 to 2025 was deafening. During the years of the Tonse administration, BEAM retreated from the headlines, operating at a fraction of the visibility it enjoyed when Professor Mutharika was First Lady. Now, with the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) back in State House, BEAM has miraculously been resurrected, complete with a K40 million cheque from the Chinese business community and a strategic roadmap for the next five years . Coincidence? Or is the Trust merely a shadow that follows the sunlight of political power?
This is not a partisan attack on Madam Mutharika. It is an observation of a disturbing pattern in our body politic. One must ask the same question of the Shaping Our Future Foundation, the charity associated with former First Lady Madam Monica Chakwera. During her husband’s tenure from 2020 to 2025, the foundation was a prominent feature of the civic landscape, championing youth and women empowerment. Now that the Chakweras have left Kamuzu Palace, the organisation has seemingly vanished into thin air. Why does the compassion of a First Lady appear to expire the moment her husband loses an election?
This cyclical hibernation and revival of presidential charities leaves a bitter taste, and it fuels a deeply cynical, yet plausible, argument: these organisations are merely instruments for the extraction of public and private resources, only operational when they have direct access to the levers of government.
The concern is not unique to Malawi; it is a global phenomenon that exposes the dangers of informal influence. When a First Lady—an unelected official—heads a charitable trust, the lines between private goodwill and public power become dangerously blurred. As documented in a report by the Cyprus Audit Office regarding a similar fund chaired by the president’s wife, such structures create “a relationship—or there appears to be a relationship—of influence and/or the expectation of benefit” . This is the crux of the matter. When corporations or well-heeled donors pour money into these foundations, can we be certain they are acting out of pure altruism? Or are they seeking favour, access, or government contracts from the spouse who holds the President’s ear? In Cyprus, the Auditor-General noted that a company which donated nearly €700,000 had simultaneously “negotiated and signed with the state a long-term contract of a high value” . This is the “pay-to-play” politics that erodes public trust.
The temptation to use state resources is equally potent. The history of presidential families is littered with examples of the misuse of public funds. A POLITICO investigation revealed how former US President Bill Clinton’s office used taxpayer funds designated for ex-presidents to subsidize the Clinton Foundation’s operations and staff, blurring the line between his non-profit, his wife’s State Department, and private business dealings . Closer to home, in Ghana, the Alliance for Social Equity and Public Accountability (ASEPA) criticised the state oil company for funnelling millions of Ghanaian cedis to the Rebecca Foundation—belonging to the First Lady—labelling it a “clear example of nepotism and cronyism,” as there was no competitive process for other independent foundations to access those public funds .
This is the slippery slope Malawi finds itself on. When the Chinese Chambers of Commerce injects K40 million into BEAM on the eve of its strategic plan launch, it is a welcome donation . However, in the absence of rigorous transparency, the public is left to wonder: does this generosity grease the wheels for future business permits, tax waivers, or government approvals? Where are the audited financial statements for these trusts? Who are the donors, and what do they want from the state?
If BEAM, the Shaping Our Future Foundation, and others like them were genuinely independent charitable entities, their work would continue regardless of which party holds the presidency. They would have institutionalized their fundraising and programming to survive changes in government. That they do not, that they flare up and fizzle out based on election results, reveals their true nature. They are not charities; they are political accessories. They are vehicles designed to attract resources from those seeking to ingratiate themselves with the sitting President, operating under the convenient veil of “charity.”
The Constitution grants the President immense power. It is precisely because of this that we must scrutinise the entities orbiting the presidency. If we fail to question why Madam Mutharika’s Trust is active only when her husband is in power, or why Madam Chakwera’s foundation went quiet the moment he lost the election, we are complicit in normalizing the privatization of public influence. These organisations are not just helping the needy; they are helping themselves to the perks of power. It is time we demanded that our First Ladies’ compassion be consistent—whether in government or in opposition. Otherwise, the public will continue to see these launches not as acts of charity, but as the opening of a shop for political patronage.
