That Alfred Gangata is a political novice needs no elaborate argument. He is young in age—and even younger in political judgment. Yet, with the confidence of the uninformed, he carries himself as though he is God’s final gift to Malawian politics.
Politics, however, has rules. One of them is simple: keep your cards close to your chest. Gangata did the opposite. In a moment of youthful bravado, he loudly announced that he would be DPP president in 2030, succeeding Peter Mutharika. That single statement exposed both his inexperience and his lack of strategic sense.
The obvious question follows: what exactly qualifies Alfred Gangata to lead the DPP—let alone Malawi?
Let us begin with education. On this front, the record is troubling. There are unresolved allegations linking him to academic dishonesty. True or not, the mere presence of such claims is politically damaging. Leadership demands credibility, and credibility begins with personal integrity.
Yes, Gangata has money. No one disputes that. But politics is not a cash transaction, and leadership is not an auction. If wealth alone produced presidents, Malawi would have been led long ago by tycoons. History tells us otherwise. Riches do not equal wisdom. Money does not substitute competence.
By declaring himself APM’s heir, Gangata committed a fatal political error. The DPP is, by its nature and history, anchored in the Southern Region—particularly the Lomwe belt. To imagine that the party would overlook its internal heavyweights, its regional realities, and its seasoned leaders for an untested figure was not confidence; it was delusion.
Within the party are individuals with stronger educational backgrounds, broader acceptance, and deeper leadership experience. Against such competition, Gangata’s résumé is thin—dangerously thin.
What followed was predictable. He was initially rewarded with a ministerial role—political courtesy, not endorsement. But once he began attracting controversy, especially allegations surrounding questionable dealings and reckless public remarks, the party recalculated. His comments about ethnic groups were not just careless; they were politically toxic. They revealed immaturity and poor judgment.
From there, the writing was on the wall. He was moved away from the centre of power, shifted from one ministry to another, each transfer less flattering than the last. Natural Resources demanded technical understanding—climate policy, international treaties, SDGs. These were clearly beyond his depth. Sports, his apparent passion, became the final stop. All this happened in barely four months.
But even there, he is not the party’s natural choice. Within DPP exists a far more credible figure in sports administration. Which raises the inevitable conclusion: Gangata is being managed, not groomed.
And this is where governance analyst Z. Allan Ntata enters the debate with surgical precision. His point is devastatingly simple: ministers are not supposed to be shuffled like playing cards. Constant reshuffles signal confusion, not control. Either Gangata is incapable—and if so, why appoint him at all? Or the system itself is failing to provide direction and discipline.
Strong leadership confronts problems head-on. Weak leadership rearranges them and calls it action.
Ntata’s warning cuts deeper: when Cabinet becomes theatre, governance becomes noise—movement without meaning. And when instability is visible in Cabinet, it often originates at the very centre of power.
Back to Gangata. His problem is not lack of money. It is lack of restraint, depth, and judgment. Politics punishes loose talk. It has no mercy for overambition without substance. Many before him have learned this the hard way—cast aside, forgotten, politically erased.
The advice is simple: slow down. Learn. Build credibility. Keep quiet. Survive Cabinet. That alone would be an achievement. Because in the DPP, those who bite more than they can chew do not get second chances. They are discarded—and history moves on without them.
Gangata has been warned.
