Let us begin with the background, because memory is important—especially when institutions pretend not to remember their own failures.
For years, The Shire Times has warned Mzuzu University to wake up from its deep, comfortable slumber over its examinations and results management system. From day one, the system was weak, porous, and laughably unfit for purpose. We said so. Loudly. Repeatedly. They ignored us—again, again, and again.
The consequences have been spectacularly consistent. For five straight years, every graduation ceremony has come wrapped in scandal. Missing grades. Altered grades. Students crying foul. Administrators shrugging shoulders. Confusion elevated to an art form. At this point, scandal is not an accident at Mzuzu University—it is tradition.
Now comes the latest embarrassment: allegations of academic fraud tied to the university’s so-called Integrated Management Information System. Management assures us, with straight faces, that the system is “robust,” “secure,” and “home-grown,” that only 103 student portals were affected, and that everything is under control.
Frankly, this would be funny if it were not tragic.
A system that repeatedly collapses is not robust. A university that explains itself every year is not managing itself. And an institution that keeps asking the public to “wait for investigations” has already lost moral authority.
What makes this mess truly comical—dark comedy, that is—is that Mzuzu University proudly offers Bachelor’s, Master’s and PhDs in Information and Communication Technology. Some of these PhDs are allegedly in coding. One therefore wonders: what exactly are they coding? PowerPoint slides? Press releases? Because it certainly is not a functional academic management system.
This is where sarcasm becomes unavoidable. Malawi has mastered two useless arts: prayer without action and education without impact. Prayer without action will not end hunger. And degree papers without problem-solving are equally useless. Mzuzu University’s ICT PhD holders parade titles longer than their achievements, yet they cannot fix a basic, local problem in their own backyard. Education that cannot solve problems is like praying for rain while standing next to a river and refusing to draw water.
At this point, one must ask a brutally honest question: is it not better for Mzuzu University to temporarily close shop and rethink its existence? Because a university that cannot manage exams, protect grades, or graduate students with confidence has failed at the most basic level of higher education.
This rot is not accidental. It is structural. It is cultural. And leadership sits at the centre of it.
Mzuzu University is a public university, funded by taxpayers from all corners of Malawi. Yet its leadership history tells a troubling story. Vice Chancellors—save for one white man—have largely come from the same region: names like Peter Mwaza, Mhango, Saka, Singini, and others. This is not about tribe or region—it is about governance. A public university is not a family project, not a village association, and not a club of kins and kith.
Too much familiarity breeds mediocrity. Too much sameness breeds complacency. When everyone knows everyone, failure is protected, not punished.
Mzuzu University today behaves less like a national institution and more like a regional enclave. That is unacceptable. Diversity in leadership is not a favour—it is a necessity. Fresh faces from other regions, other institutions, and other professional cultures are urgently needed to shake this university out of its comfortable incompetence.
Yes, staff have been suspended. Yes, committees have been formed. Yes, investigations have been promised. We have heard this tired script before. Nothing changes. The scandals return. The excuses are recycled.
The university’s reputation is now in tatters. And no amount of defensive press releases can repair it.
A recent viral image captured Malawi’s tragedy perfectly: Malawians praying desperately for God to end hunger while surrounded by abundant water, contrasted with Israelites practising irrigation and exporting food. The message was brutal but accurate—faith without action is useless.
So too are degrees without impact. PhDs without solutions. ICT expertise that cannot run a university system.
If Malawi is serious about higher education, then Mzuzu University needs radical surgery: leadership overhaul, genuine diversity, external expertise, and zero tolerance for failure. If that is too hard, then perhaps closing shop—even briefly—would be more honest than continuing this national embarrassment.
For now, the verdict is unavoidable: Mzuzu University looks impressive on paper, sounds educated in statements, but in practice, it is failing spectacularly.
