The Fire We Carry

Sixty-one years ago, on a brisk July morning, Malawi stepped into the promise of freedom. Flags were raised. Hopes soared. The colonizer’s shadow had been lifted—or so it seemed. We told ourselves, “This is the beginning of something new.” And for a while, it was.

But what has that freedom really meant for us?

In 2025, we are no longer staring down colonial rifles—but we are dodging machetes in our own streets. The institutions we inherited were supposed to serve the people, yet too often they are weaponized against dissent. The panga-wielding gangs disrupting demonstrations today may not wear uniforms, but the silence—or complicity—of those in power speaks volumes.

How did we get here?

Freedom, we were told, was about the right to vote. But what does voting mean in a climate of fear? Freedom was about self-rule. But what kind of rule brutalizes its own children for demanding better? Independence was supposed to be the foundation of a just society. Yet at 61, we seem more familiar with instability than with justice.

The burning buildings, broken bones, and battered voices of this July are not simply unfortunate events. They are symptoms. Symptoms of a nation that is still struggling to reconcile its founding dream with its current reality. We have created a tradition of celebration—parades, speeches, photo ops. But beneath the fireworks and flags, a different fire is burning: the fire of disillusionment, of growing youth unrest, of questions that demand answers.

Still, this is not a eulogy.

It is a reckoning.

We believe this July issue must hold space for the uncomfortable questions: Who benefits from the chaos? Why is innovation celebrated in academic halls while beaten in the streets? How free is a nation where accountability is feared, and silence is rewarded?

Yet even as the smoke thickens, we see sparks of something else—resistance. Organizers, students, health innovators, everyday Malawians who still believe that this country can be better. This is the fire we must carry forward—not to destroy, but to illuminate. To ignite a vision of freedom that is not just ceremonial, but structural. Not just historic, but ongoing.

This month, as we mark 61 years of independence, let us not only remember how far we’ve come, but ask—what have we actually become?