This editorial is not written in a vacuum, and it is not written out of spite. It is written in response. When a media house steps out of its constitutional role as a watchdog and positions itself as a defender of power against public scrutiny, that action itself becomes a matter of public interest. That is why this analysis directly confronts The Maravi Post because it chose to enter the arena as an advocate rather than an interrogator.
After Shire Times published an opinion questioning the concentration of public-linked contracts around State Minister Alfred Gangata, The Maravi Post responded with an article dismissing public concern as jealousy, accusing this newspaper of sensationalism, and presenting Gangata as a misunderstood success story. By doing so, it shifted the debate away from governance and accountability and turned it into a personal defence of power. Once that line was crossed, silence was no longer an option.
Let us return to the substance.
Malawi is entering 2026 under severe economic strain. Ordinary citizens are facing high taxes, rising food and fuel prices, and shrinking opportunities. In that context, it is neither reckless nor malicious to question why the same politically connected names repeatedly appear in major public-linked contracts. At the centre of this pattern is Alfred Gangata, a public figure whose own statements and record demand scrutiny, not reverence.
Gangata has publicly admitted, on record, that his business empire did not grow by clean means. That is not an allegation invented by critics; it is a self-confession. Added to this are long-standing allegations ranging from academic fraud to controversial business dealings involving public assets. In any functioning democracy, these facts alone justify persistent questioning. They do not disappear because a businessman is labelled “successful.”
When Shire Times raised concerns about the Malawi Revenue Authority security services tender—highlighting monopolisation and conflicts of interest—the response from The Maravi Post was swift and dismissive. Rather than asking whether the concerns had merit, it accused critics of envy and warned that such scrutiny would scare away investors. Law was quoted selectively, context was ignored, and public anger was trivialised.
Then came the turning point. Within 48 hours, the government cancelled the MRA tender. No justification was offered. No defence was mounted. The decision itself quietly confirmed that the questions raised were not baseless. At that moment, the debate ceased to be theoretical. The facts had intervened.
The businessman at the centre of the controversy declined to comment. The media house that had defended the tender with such confidence also had little to say. That silence matters, because it exposes the weakness of the earlier certainty. If the process was beyond reproach, cancellation would have been unnecessary. If the criticism was mere jealousy, the state would not have acted.
This is where The Maravi Post becomes central to the story—not as a victim, but as an example.
By choosing to shield power rather than scrutinise it, the publication reduced a legitimate governance debate into a character attack on those raising concerns. In doing so, it failed its readers and blurred the line between journalism and public relations.
Malawians are not angry because they hate success. They are angry because the rules appear uneven. They are angry because public institutions increasingly look captured by a small circle of influence. They are angry because, while they struggle, accountability seems optional for the connected. Dismissing that anger as envy is not analysis; it is disrespect.
Public procurement is not a reward system, and power is not a business advantage. Constitutional rights to economic activity do not override constitutional duties of integrity and transparency. You cannot defend accumulation while ignoring accountability and still claim to be promoting national development.
Shire Times did not raise these issues to provoke a media feud. We raised them because the public interest demanded it. The cancellation of the MRA tender confirmed that concern. The attempt by The Maravi Post to discredit that scrutiny now stands as a cautionary tale of what happens when journalism abandons scepticism.
This is bigger than one tender and bigger than one businessman. It is about whether Malawi will allow its institutions—and its media—to be quietly captured. Citizens are watching, connecting the dots, and losing patience.
Malawi is not a playground. Public institutions are not private estates. And no amount of editorial defence will permanently silence the demand for accountability.
