Government has finally moved to clamp down on the industrial-scale abuse of the Farm Inputs Subsidy Programme (Fisp) by its own employees, ordering councils to recover fertiliser illegally accessed by civil servants and to discipline agriculture officers who facilitated the fraud.
Mbilidzi and Phiri
But the directive, coming after fertiliser has already been redeemed and diverted, raises uncomfortable questions about whether this is genuine reform — or merely damage control after a scandal that has embarrassed the State.
A memo dated December 19, 2025, from the Secretary for the Ministry of Local Government and Rural Development, which we has seen, exposes what it bluntly calls a “serious breach of Fisp guidelines.” The memo names Balaka District Council as one of the hotspots, where 52 civil servants were illegally registered for the 2025/26 programme, with 18 already having collected subsidised fertiliser meant for poor smallholder farmers.
While 34 names were quietly removed from the beneficiaries’ register before redemption, the damage had already been done. Fertiliser had left depots, and with it, public trust in a programme designed as a lifeline for the poorest.
The directive orders councils to force those who already redeemed the inputs to return them immediately to SFFRFM depots for redistribution. It also instructs councils to institute disciplinary proceedings against agriculture field officers who enabled the malpractice and to submit reports on their findings.
Government spokesperson Chimwemwe Njoloma confirmed the memo — titled “Unauthorised Civil Servant Registration in the 2025–26 Farm Inputs Subsidy Programme” — saying it had been circulated to all councils nationwide.
“This is a very serious issue,” Njoloma said. “All civil servants who accessed the inputs unlawfully must return them and necessary action will be taken.”
Yet, tellingly, when pressed on how many civil servants nationwide have already redeemed fertiliser, how much has been lost, and whether refunds will be demanded, Njoloma referred the questions elsewhere. The silence is deafening.
The directive follows a warning issued three weeks earlier by Minister of Agriculture Roza Mbilizi, who, alongside Minister of Local Government Ben Phiri, laid bare widespread looting of Fisp by chiefs and civil servants.
Mbilizi revealed that about 3,800 civil servants had illegally enrolled in the programme.
“If you have not yet redeemed the fertiliser, do not do so. Those who have already redeemed will face the law,” she warned.
But critics argue that warnings without swift arrests, suspensions or prosecutions only embolden abusers.
Civil society has dismissed the recovery-only approach as weak and cosmetic. Centre for Social Accountability and Transparency (Csat) executive director Willy Kambwandira said simply returning fertiliser does not amount to accountability.
“Recovery alone is not enough. There must be firm administrative and legal consequences to deter abuse and protect the programme,” Kambwandira said.
He also demanded full transparency, including public disclosure of those who abused the system and confirmation that stolen inputs are indeed returned.
Kambwandira warned that politicians are also complicit, calling on government to strengthen community oversight mechanisms instead of relying on the same structures that enabled the abuse.
Fisp was launched on November 12, 2025, in Mchinji, targeting 1.1 million vulnerable farmers, each entitled to two 50kg bags of fertiliser and 5kg of seed. Under the livestock component, selected households are receiving five goats on a pass-on basis.
Yet for many poor farmers, fertiliser never arrived — not because stocks were unavailable, but because those in offices and authority positions helped themselves first.
The scandal has once again exposed a painful truth: some of the worst enemies of pro-poor programmes are not outsiders, but insiders — civil servants entrusted to safeguard public resources.
Unless arrests are made, names published and careers terminated, Malawians may be forgiven for seeing this crackdown not as justice, but as a late and reluctant attempt to mop up a mess after the horse has already bolted.
