By Rick Dzida
The Parliament of Malawi is embroiled in a fierce legal battle that strikes at the very heart of the country’s governance, separation of powers, and the fight against state capture.
Malawian citizen Austin Mkoka recently moved the High Court, filing an urgent application for judicial review against Speaker Sameer Suleman and the legislature.
Mkoka is demanding a temporary injunction to halt planned parliamentary inquiries into deep-seated corruption and operational incompetence crippling key state institutions, including the National Oil Company of Malawi (NOCMA), the Electricity Supply Corporation of Malawi (ESCOM), and the Blantyre Water Board.
This blatant attempt to blindfold the nation’s supreme legislative body raises a fundamental question: does Parliament have the constitutional power to investigate public rot, or is the judiciary being weaponised to shield the corrupt?
To argue that Parliament lacks the authority to investigate state bodies is to ignore the text and structural logic of the Constitution of Malawi.
Under Section 9 of the supreme law, the state explicitly outlines a three-tier system where accountability is non-negotiable.
While critics like Mkoka argue that proceeding with these probes is inconsistent with Section 49(1), Malawi’s constitutional jurisprudence has firmly established that the entire Constitution must be read as a coherent whole, meaning one provision cannot be used to destroy another.
The legislature is granted sweeping powers to exercise oversight over the executive branch and all state organs to ensure public accountability. This mandate is operationalised through committees.
Furthermore, the National Assembly (Powers and Privileges) Act reinforces this authority, explicitly declaring that the Assembly/committees may summon witnesses via Clerk-issued warrants.
The Parliament of Malawi historically has relied on these constitutional powers to establish potent investigative frameworks.
A prime example of this absolute authority is the precedent set by the Chilima crash parliamentary committee, which was formed to probe the tragic plane crash that killed former Vice President Saulos Chilima.
If Parliament has the legal right to probe a highly sensitive, military-adjacent aviation disaster involving the presidency, it undeniably possesses the jurisdiction to investigate financial haemorrhaging at public utilities like ESCOM and NOCMA.
A common point of confusion exploited by critics is the boundary of parliamentary action.
To be clear: Parliament does not prosecute culprits. It is not a court of law, nor does it arrogate to itself the powers of the Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP) or the Anti-Corruption Bureau (ACB).
Instead, the legislative inquiry serves as a fact-finding mechanism for public accountability. Once these joint committees conclude their investigations into the systemic looting and incompetence at state boards, Parliament makes recommendations to appropriate institutions—such as the ACB, the police, or the relevant fiscal courts—to pursue criminal or administrative justice.
This structural path aligns perfectly with Malawian case law, which stresses the “Requirement to exhaust parliamentary oversight (Legal Affairs Committee)” before civil processes are weaponised prematurely.
Halting a committee’s work before it even begins suggests a fundamental misunderstanding of this oversight role, or worse, a deliberate attempt to suppress facts before they can reach prosecuting authorities.
In the court of public opinion, the timing and nature of Mkoka’s lawsuit have sparked intense skepticism.
There is a high probability that Mkoka is acting as a proxy for deeply entrenched political cartels, potentially linked to the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), to delay or entirely derail these parliamentary committee investigations.
This suspicion is only hardened by recent history, such as the DPP Secretary General openly criticising Speaker Suleman over the proposed probes.
For years, state-owned enterprises have been treated as cash cows for political elites. By filing for an urgent judicial review and seeking a stay of proceedings, these actors buy time, hoping to frustrate the public, compromise evidence, or escape being caught red-handed in their historic looting practices.
The High Court must recognize this manoeuvre for what it is: an abuse of the judicial process designed to sustain impunity.
If the court grants a stay order preventing these investigations, the true casualties will not be the politicians or the lawyers, but ordinary Malawian citizens. A judicial freeze on parliamentary oversight directly translates to a direct assault on the daily survival of the public.
For instance, blocking inquiries into ESCOM and the Blantyre Water Board guarantees that erratic power blackouts and dry taps will continue unabated, as corrupt procurement deals remain hidden.
Leaving NOCMA unscrutinised invites unchecked mismanagement, driving up fuel prices, stalling public transport, and inflating the cost of basic food items.
A stay order gives corrupt officials a free pass to continue draining national coffers, starving critical sectors like healthcare and public education of essential funding.
To resolve this impasse and protect Malawi’s democratic fabric, the following measures must be taken
First, the High Court must expeditiously dismiss the application for an injunction. The judiciary should reject attempts by individuals to interfere with the legitimate, internal oversight operations of a co-equal branch of government.
Second, Parliament must proceed with compiling ironclad evidence through its newly launched joint inquiries, ensuring that its findings are legally airtight to prevent technical loopholes during future prosecutions.
Third, once the ad-hoc committees finish their inquiries into NOCMA and ESCOM, the report must be handed directly to the Anti-Corruption Bureau (ACB) and the police, with strict, publicly-monitored timelines for criminal prosecution.
In a nutshell, Malawi cannot afford to let procedural gamesmanship starve its people of electricity, water, and fuel. Parliament has the right, the duty, and the constitutional power to investigate—and the courts must let them do their job.
