DOWA, Malawi — The soil of Dowa district embraced one of its finest sons yesterday as Chikumbutso Mtumodzi was laid to rest. But as his family, friends, and admirers gathered to celebrate the life of a selfless servant, a troubling scene played out in the background—one that exposed the depths to which some can sink, even in the face of death. Malawi has witnessed that the cruelty of politics knows no borders.
As the news of Mtumodzi’s passing reached the public, a handful of bitter political foes seized the moment not for mourning, but for insults, indeed for malice. Like scavengers circling a fresh grave, they emerged—not to pay respects—but to rewrite the legacy of a man whose goodness they had no courage to match while he lived.
Among these were online agitator Julius Mithi and the notorious pro-opposition propaganda site Malawi Voice. Their allegiance to the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) is well known. So too is their frustration at Mtumodzi’s political triumphs under the Malawi Congress Party (MCP) banner. He politically defeated them in life, and now—pathetically—they seek victory over his silence in death.
But no matter how loudly the petty shout, the truth speaks more powerfully—and this time, it comes from a most unexpected witness.
Prophet Shepherd Bushiri, a man hounded by injustice and once on the run for his life, shared a deeply personal story that has turned the narrative on its head. In a heartfelt post, Bushiri recounted how, upon his return from South Africa, stripped of resources and abandoned by so-called friends, it was Mtumodzi—yes, Mtumodzi—who stepped forward.
A man he barely knew.
A man who came not to ask for favours, not to trade favours, but to give. To help. To show what true humanity looks like.
“He came to our home,” Bushiri wrote, “introduced himself as a concerned Malawian, and offered us financial support… His selfless act brought tears to my eyes.”
While his seasoned friends fled the prophet when he fell from grace, Chikumbutso Mtumodzi, a stranger by most definitions, became a brother in compassion. That is not politics. That is not strategy. That is soul.
And now, in death, as Bushiri pledges to fund Mtumodzi’s children’s education and support his family’s future, one truth rises high above the noise: this man was a giant in kindness, a saint in humility.
So how shameful, then, that those who failed to match his character in life now attempt to smear his memory in death. Their actions are not just cowardly—they are embarrassingly small.
Yes, no man is perfect. But to laugh at the grave of someone you could never defeat while he breathed? That is not bravery. That is bitterness wearing a coward’s mask.
Yet, the story will not end with slander. Because real legacies are not built by hashtags or clickbait—but by lives touched, burdens lifted, and love shown when no one else dared.
In the end, Chikumbutso Mtumodzi’s life reminds us of one powerful truth: you cannot bury light. Even in death, it shines.
A saint, remembered. And cowards, revealed. Rest in peace, Saint Chikumbutso. Malawi remembers. The world now knows.
