My open letter to Hon. Atupele

Honourable Atupele Muluzi, I understand you have always challenged the youths to define and rule their destiny.

The beauty of it is, you acknowledge that although most youths can define their destiny, few can rule it. Why? Their destiny lies in the hands of those who develop and execute national policies.

That is why I was all smiles when you decided to contest for the presidency. That was a decision I interpreted as your burden to lead the youths towards their destiny.

You did not succeed, I know. But your dramatic entry into the fold of President Peter Mutharika’s Cabinet was quite pleasing to the youths who see hope in you as somebody who embodies our dreams and fears.

What is even more pleasing is you head the Ministry of Natural Resources, Energy and Mining—a critical organ in defining the kind of Malawi we will have 20 years from now.

You see, Honourable Atupele, the immediate challenge facing our country today is not hunger, disease and envy as wrongly diagnosed by Michael Sauka in the national anthem. Management of the country’s natural resources is our pressing challenge.

You and I know that God—whatever we conceive Him to be—gave us wisdom to exploit our natural resources and make a living from it. But I don’t think God denied us wisdom to understand that we are supposed to use these resources prudently.

You are 35 and I am 27. Ten years from now, you and I, with our three beautiful daughters, will still be young—perhaps living in Lilongwe, our beautiful capital city.

Ten years from now, while living in Lilongwe, we will still need safe water, fresh air, fresh maize; I mean we will still need to live a better life.

But do you know ten years from now, Dzalanyama Forest Reserve, at the rate it is being destroyed, will be without trees?

I am sure you know because for two days two weeks ago, we toured the dying reserve together. In fact, my Japanese friend Kosaku Onaka, narrated to you every detail regarding the human-induced destruction of the reserve.

I understand you repeatedly, during the tour, expressed shock and disbelief. Well, that is fine. But Honourable Atupele, you are not the first minister to express shock and disbelief after touring the reserve. The list of such predecessors is long.

I don’t want you to be part of that list. I want you to be a minister who, after expressing shock and disbelief, stands up and stops, once for all, the madness happening at Dzalanyama.

During the interviews, Honourable Minister, you were too cautious in committing to an immediate action needed to stop the bewildering charcoal production in the reserve—an activity behind the destruction of the reserve.

You were passionately concerned with the immediate welfare of those producing charcoal today, than the welfare of millions whose lives will be at stake in future if the reserve depletes.

But, Honourable Minister: How do we justify using up resources to meet our luxury needs, today, when those same resources are required to meet basic needs of future generations?

If we use more than enough non-renewable resources needed for a decent life, should we not expect that our use of those resources will deprive future generations of the resources they will need to have a decent life? If so, does this not show we have no justification for acting this way?

The ecological functions of Dzalanyama to millions are irreplaceable. But charcoal and firewood production—the evils behind the forest’s destruction—have alternatives; they can be replaced.

We cannot continue robbing from our children and the future, under the pretext of meeting our immediate poverty.

Communities around Dzalanyama are fighting their immediate poverty by creating long term poverty for millions. This, Honourable Minister is unacceptable.

So I urge you, Honourable Atupele Muluzi to, upon reading this earnest letter, raise the Malawi Defence Force (MDF) to turn Dzalanyama into a military base. This, according to me, is the immediate solution Dzalanyama. After that, we will start talking about creating alternatives for those whose lives were dependent on charcoal production.

Thank you.