The Attorney General’s Curious Case of Selective Busyness

BY KONDWANI BELL MUNTHALI

When the President addressed the nation and threw his full weight behind the now rather theatrical parliamentary inquiry into the Amaryllis Hotel affair , that ambitious exercise in converting public funds into private comfort , the message sounded simple enough.

The government would cooperate. Everyone would cooperate. Transparency would reign, at least for the duration of the hearings.

Or so the public assumed.

Enter Attorney General Frank Mbeta, who appears to have discovered that the higher one climbs in public office, the less time one has for Parliament, even when the President himself has endorsed the process.

The nation waited. The committee waited. But the Attorney General, apparently buried under mountains of legal paperwork or perhaps existential contemplation, could not find the time.

Now, in political etiquette, ignoring Parliament during a presidentially supported inquiry is not merely scheduling trouble. It borders on a public diplomatic gesture , the sort usually delivered with a raised eyebrow and, metaphorically speaking, a middle finger pointed somewhere toward the State House.

Of course, Mr. Mbeta may well be spotless. Innocent men do exist in politics, though they are often treated as rare wildlife sightings. But appearances matter, and this particular performance carries uncomfortable echoes. Malawians may remember how Colleen Zamba once danced around parliamentary scrutiny during the famous fuel procurement saga. At the time, it was framed as administrative inconvenience. Later revelations suggested it was more like strategic silence.

Which brings us back to the President.

Instead of enjoying the political dividends of a “Return to Proven Leadership,” he now finds himself presiding over what increasingly resembles a weekly episode of Scandal of the Republic. One week it is Amaryllis. The next it is NOCMA. Then comes the familiar shadow of Zuneth Sattar drifting across the national conversation like an unwelcome political ghost.

It raises a rather awkward question: is the Attorney General simply too busy, too big, for the President?

Because when a senior official publicly contradicts the spirit of a presidential directive without consequence, the message travels far beyond the walls of Parliament. It whispers that perhaps the President’s word is negotiable, subject to the availability of those meant to serve under it.

At the very least, one might have expected a polite Sunday message to the committee: Dear Honourable Members, terribly sorry, I cannot attend tomorrow’s inquiry into the alleged disappearance of public money. Prior engagements with constitutional obligations. That would have been the courteous fiction.

Instead, the silence was louder.

Meanwhile, the administration seems caught in a curious contradiction. The President appears aligned with the public’s desire for cleaner governance, yet some of the characters orbiting his administration behave as though they are still auditioning for the previous era of political improvisation.

One wonders whether the President might eventually resort to that ancient but effective governance tool: suspension pending investigation. It has the advantage of demonstrating that leadership is not merely a slogan on campaign posters.

Because trust in Malawi’s politics is now balanced on a rather thin wire. Scandals, rumours, denials and retractions arrive with such regularity that the slogan Return to Proven Leadership risks becoming less a promise and more a punchline.

Adding to the irony is the political genealogy of some of the current dramatis personae. Many were not exactly sweating in the trenches for the DPP when victory looked uncertain. They appeared closer to the finish line, just in time to celebrate the anticipated prize.

Meanwhile, the party’s original foot soldiers, from the tireless Sendera sisters to the ever-vocal cadets, are reportedly at home, watching events unfold like disappointed shareholders.

Which may prompt another uncomfortable question for the President: who exactly recommended the current cast of scandal-prone administrators?

Because if the inquiry into Amaryllis Hotel teaches us anything, it is that public accountability, like hotel accommodation, works best when everyone actually shows up.