I Might Be British, But I Choose to Live in Malawi
This is Why
Beginnning Motherhood Late
I came to motherhood late, and my only child — my seven-year-old son — is the light of my life. His Malawian father and I split after a complex relationship between cultures, but we are still on good terms.
When my son was five, we moved from the UK to Malawi, a small, peaceful country in southern Africa. Over the last couple of years, I’ve had time to assess the move and its effects on both of us.
Overcoming Loss
We had been through quite a lot when we first arrived in Malawi. We had lost my mother, a wonderful, warm, very close grandmother to my son, who gave so much and tried so hard to hang on to life until my son would remember her.
We’d also gone through the first five months of lockdown as a single mother and child, which was a huge driver in leaving the country. I knew from those first months that if we didn’t get to a better situation, there would be lasting damage of some kind.
Also, on top of this, I was less than impressed by the rigid, unfeeling attitude my son’s primary school were showing towards us as a family. In the UK children start school at four, and anecdotally, this is one of the most difficult, unpopular years parents face when enrolling their kids in the state system.
At Home in Malawi
So, I managed to secure a job in a small, lovely international school and off we went. It wasn’t always easy, but here are the enormous benefits my child and I are gaining:
My child spends most of his free time outdoors. It’s not a universal benefit, and plenty of parents of middle-class children in Malawi are finding their children’s freedom curtailed much more than theirs was, due to a change in attitude and a decreased level of perceived safety. However, there is definitely more outdoor play and much better weather. Whether my son plays in the campus or outside, he is getting lots of exercise, and on a recent return to the UK an early years specialist friend of mine picked up instantly the difference in physical skill my son has now compared to when he left two years ago. I credit this 100% to Malawi.
My child’s school is relaxed. This is a tricky area for me. I have taught in the UK state system for a long time. There were always questionable elements, but it has become rapidly less child-friendly in my opinion. Children are squashed through national tests, losing more and more agency over their own learning. I am eternally grateful that, at my child’s current school, there is time for teachers to do such things as walk with the children under the trees, teaching them their names and features, when the classroom is no longer serving them. It doesn’t just teach my child about trees (although he has grown to love these life-giving plants) but teaches him to regulate his emotions, to take himself away from stressful situations, and to chat with friends. I don’t know whether we as a family will always use physical schools, but just for now it suits both myself and my son.
Having said that, of course the typical primary school in Malawi is beset with problems. Low funding, far too many children in one class, and low-paid (sometimes late-paid) teachers make for difficult conditions in this nation where education is highly. However, despite this, children’s school days are often full of friendships, supportive teachers and a beautiful outdoor setting.
My child sees Black and Brown people in powerful positions as a normal occurrence. When the day-to-day problems I face in Malawi get to me, such as erratic power supply, a slightly depressing cold rainy season, an unstable currency, I have to remind myself of this key point before my feet have the chance to become too itchy. For a mixed-race boy, my son sees success as normal, not as something that he needs to be given a charitable chance for. I, as his White mother, have obviously never experienced being a mixed-race boy. That we have managed to get this far in life without it even really being a talking point is a positive in my eyes. I am ready permanently for this conversation, but it’s just not come up and I’m not about to push it.
It feels like Malawi is waiting for its time. I could so easily be wrong here, but let’s face it, everyone’s crystal ball has been a bit clouded lately. I feel like Malawi, as with some other African countries, is getting ready for a more prominent place in the world. It’s not perfect: there are some awful, shocking problems happening in Malawi, but there are also some real positives.
It’s a relatively safe country; a place where people laugh rather than stress; a place where for generations an emphasis has been placed on growing your own food, giving people with very little cash a dignity rarely afforded in other countries. It has staved off the more crushing problems that nearby countries such as Zimbabwe (hyperinflation) and South Africa (regular violence) continue to face.
Some outsiders wring their hands at the economic situation of Malawi, but if you listen well enough to Malawians themselves, they will show you a deep love of and belief in this strangely beautiful country that’s not a quick hit. You have to be in it for the long-haul, and you have to love it, but Malawi does and will deliver. It just may not be in the way you imagined.
Feeling Grateful
I am so grateful for all that Malawi has given and continues to give to myself and my son. Often tipped as a top travel destination (not least for its utterly stunning lake), more information can be found here:
