Why are some nations prosperous while others remain mired in poverty? Why does manufacturing flourish almost instinctively in certain countries, yet barely take root in others?
Take Japan, for instance. One of the world’s strongest economies, Japan possesses neither vast mineral wealth nor particularly fertile land for large-scale agriculture. Yet it has become, in many respects, the world’s floating factory — importing raw materials from every corner of the globe and transforming them into high-quality manufactured goods. By contrast, the Democratic Republic of the Congo is endowed with immense mineral riches and fertile soils, yet continues to languish near the bottom of the global economic ladder.
Not long ago, I came across an article observing that Switzerland produces some of the finest chocolate in the world despite not growing cocoa. The irony is striking.
The late Jamaican reggae icon Peter Tosh once lamented, “Africa is the richest place, but it has the poorest race, and to me that is a disgrace.” Harsh though the words may sound, they force one to pause and reflect. In terms of natural wealth, Africa is second to none. Gold, diamonds, rubies, tea, cocoa, coffee — the catalogue of riches is endless. Yet, paradoxically, the continent remains home to some of the poorest people on earth. Indeed, in Tosh’s words, it is a disgrace.
I have often remarked in this column that, as a young boy, I genuinely believed God had assigned certain nations the role of manufacturers and others the role of perpetual recipients — if not outright beggars. Almost everything I encountered, from toys and cutlery to motor vehicles, bore the proud inscription: “Made in England”. Later, the labels changed to “Made in Japan”, “Made in China”, or “Made in Hong Kong”. Rarely did one see anything produced closer to home.
The article I referred to argued that the gulf between rich and poor nations has little to do with intelligence or racial differences. Rather, it has everything to do with attitudes and mindsets “moulded over many years by education and culture.”
Indeed, many individuals whom our society dismissed as unproductive have relocated elsewhere, entered a different cultural environment, and almost immediately blossomed into productive and valuable citizens. Culture is the invisible furnace that shapes human beings into what they eventually become. It either enables people to realise their full potential or quietly suffocates that potential before it has the chance to emerge.
In many parts of Malawi, the matrilineal system remains deeply entrenched. Like all cultural systems, it carries both strengths and weaknesses. One glaring weakness, however, is that fathers often become detached from the upbringing of their children. Consequently, many children grow up without consistent paternal guidance and discipline.
I come from such a cultural background myself. I vividly recall one occasion when I drove to my mother’s village and arrived shortly before midday. To my astonishment, I found several boys and girls between the ages of ten and fourteen simply roaming about and playing. Curious, I asked one young girl whether she had already attended school that day. “N’daleka,” she replied calmly — “I stopped going to school.”
Her answer startled me, but what shocked me even more was her mother’s response. Without the slightest hint of regret or concern, she casually remarked, “Adalekaditu ameneyu” — “Yes, she indeed stopped going to school.”
In many matrilineal settings, children may choose whether to attend school or not, while fathers are often absent from the decision-making process. Mothers who themselves dropped out of school generations earlier may see nothing unusual in their children following the same path. That is the immense power of culture. It can create an enabling environment in which people thrive, or it can quietly imprison generations in cycles of unrealised potential. The unfortunate boys and girls I met in that village might have grown into engineers, doctors, professors, innovators, or successful entrepreneurs. Instead, culture robbed them of the opportunity before they had even begun the journey.
In South Korea, by contrast, parents take immense pride in children who excel in Mathematics. They invest heavily in private tuition, scrutinise homework diligently, and spare no effort in ensuring their children develop a solid academic foundation. Culture, therefore, can either prepare people for success or hinder them from ever attaining it.
Our own culture has, in many respects, hindered us from embracing entrepreneurship and manufacturing. I once received advice from a concerned colleague who warned me, “If you want to start a business, avoid opening a maize mill because people will think you are killing others and using their bodies to strengthen the business.” Such beliefs are not uncommon. Many local people believe that prosperous businesses are rooted in evil.