Let the Dead Bury the Dead

BY JAMES CHAVULA

The Notebooks of Leonardo Da Vinci reminds us that when we think we are living we forget that we are learning how to die. While William Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar concurs that death is a necessary end, I dare add that the way the dead are mourned mirrors how they lived to the inevitable end.

In my life, there are two contrasting personalities whose deaths evoked no teardrop because they neither gave nor begged sympathy in their last days: One was a street robber in Lilongwe’s Area 23 Township and another President Bingu wa Mutharika who died at his opulent palace in the same city.

If you live an inconsiderate life...

For starters, the Area 23 unknown was notorious for ambushing, hacking and killing people for money, mobile phones and other valuables. In 2009, the wanted man was stabbed to death by his fellow gangsters after they reportedly disagreed over spoils of their bloody missions. Contrary to exaggerated respect the dead get in Malawi, news of his death was greeted with shouts of joy, songs, ululation and a carnival of chants in the township he lived to terrorise. By 6am on the day of burial, residents who never attended funerals were already at the Gologota cemetery, digging an abyssal grave just to make sure he was out of reach. In no time, people literally run Catherine Chikwakwa-style to the graveyard with his coffin on their shoulders and victorious chants on their lips just to ensure he was gone fast and for good.

FLAG OF AUTOCRACY:  MUTHARIKA

Fast-forward to the death of Mutharika (1934-2012), who introduced draconian laws, arbitrary arrests, pro-rich economic prescriptions, undiplomatic foreign policy, uncurbed corruption and other notorious policies in this republic.

Likewise, the death of the despot was welcomed with eagerness, hooting, trumpeting partying and other several ways Malawians use to express jubilation.

This is a stern antonym of the rehearsed parting shot North Koreans accorded their leader Kim Jong-il who, like Mutharika, died of heart attack.

But, Like the Area 23 thug, Mutharika exacted the wrath of the people. His brew of high-handedness and litany of despotism is clear in the petition Malawians presented during the July 20, 2011 protests in which 19 people were gunned down by police officers.

As the mourning period continues, Orga Kent and Orga Rex One of Zambia’s music group Organised Family told the writer they were dismayed that Malawians were rejoicing in Mutharika’s death when Zambians united in grief during the death of President Levi Mwanawasa.

In the streets of Malawi, the only semblance of sombre tribute to the hard-hearted ruler involved dreary dirges on the state-run Malawi Broadcasting Corporation (MBC) after Mutharika’s successor, President Joyce Banda (JB), declared 10 days of mourning. Elsewhere, Malawi’s two-year-old “full-sun” flag—a nagging symbol of the fallen president’s sworn defiance of public views—is flying at half mast in his honour.

 FLAGS OF NEW DAWN FLY AGAIN

Ordinarily, death of people who have served their country should not be a subject of sorrow, but a grand celebration of their contributions. However, lovers of democracy are flying the “outlawed flag of the new dawn” at full mast because dictators must be despised with the cruel terms to subjugate the defenceless masses.

If the country is serious about entrenching the culture of democracy, we must never cease to be sick and tired of dictators even after their death.

Despite the never-say-bad-about-the-dead culture, Mutharika’s death says a lot about itself. As musician Lucius Banda said in an exclusive interview, let this be a lesson that the creator will not stand aside and look when a ruthless push becomes a relentless show.

“God takes over when his people have completely failed to surmount our oppressor,” says Lucius.

Typical of dictators, Mutharika might have forgotten that there was a greater power sides with the powerless when his push ruthless became a relentless shove.

If you want to weep for a tyrant worse than Dr Kamuzu Banda’s one-party regime, it is your funeral.

In tears, no half a story true is told. Like a pencil appears bent or broken when immersed in water, tears only impair human sight and soak hearts to sing a dirges, eulogies and epics of praise even for those who never cared about our cry in the first place.

LET THE DEAD BURY THE DEAD: TOSH

So, I would rather keep my eyes dry and free from refracted rays. I can forgive the hands that wrought these wounds in my heart. I am Malawian and Christian, but how can I forget when the scars are indelible?

As a matter of fact, the body is singing Lucius Banda’s Mabala because “kukhuluka ndiye takhululuka koma mabala ndiye akupweteka”, but the soul replaying Peter Tosh’s Burial: “Let the dead bury the dead, I am a living man [and] I have work to do”.

My humble duty is to provide checks and balances to the new government just to ensure we do not slide back to the dark days of “one man against the nation” witnessed in Mutharika’s reign.

In this spirit, I dedicate Saleta Phiri’s Zinthu Zasintha Koma Malamulo Sanasinthe to President JB. While the euphoria of Mutharika’s death and birth of a renewed republic still lasts, let Her Excellency start reversing the backlog of the oppressive laws and other icons of Mutharika’s disrespect of majority will.