Culture, Identity and the Next Generation

Being a storyteller is one of the greatest gifts I have received. Stories open doors to new worlds, forgotten traditions, buried wisdom and lived experiences from all walks of life. As a writer and podcaster, I get to engage with people from different disciplines, cultures and generations. And recently, I have been honored to join the organizing team for Malawi’s upcoming Cultural Day event on August 23, 2025 hosted by Ngale Arts 428 at Kigali events Centre in Lilongwe, Malawi.

This isn’t just another event for me. It touches a deep concern I have carried for years: the slow erosion of our culture.  The event will be a vibrant celebration of everything that makes us uniquely Malawian. It’s about traditional dances, local foods, indigenous games and the everyday practices that define us from our roots. It’s an amazing experience that will bring together cultures from across the country; from the Sena to the Chewa, Ngoni to the Tumbuka, Yao to the Lomwe and many more. Whether it’s the beat of the drum, the scent of Mbewa or Kondoole on the fire or the rhythm of Mapenenga in full motion, this day is about reminding ourselves and teaching others what it truly means to be Malawian.

Growing up, I lived with my grandmother; our family’s storyteller. Every night after supper, she would gather us around and narrate Nthano (folktales) in tumbuka (on of the languages in the northen region of Malawi). One that still sits with me today is the story of Ngoza and her sister. Ngoza, wealthy and proud, mistreated her less fortunate sibling after their mother passed away. But karma came back through the ghost of their mother, who punished Ngoza and rewarded the kind-hearted sister with blessings.

Today, this might sound like just another folktale. But back then to us, it was a moral compass. It taught us about kindness, humility and the value of solidarity and family. These were more than just bedtime stories. They were life lessons passed down from generation to generation.

In my undergraduate dissertation back in 2012, I explored how solidarity among African natives has diminished over time, especially under the influence of western culture. What we once cherished; our dances, our songs, our shared meals, our oral traditions, has been diluted. Today the generation we are raising knows more about video games, fast food and global pop culture than they do about Gule Wamkulu, Chioda or traditional Malawian recipes (Zikanyanga, Thobwa, Nkhobe) passed down through generations.

We’re raising a generation that is slowly becoming one that doesn’t know its roots. And a generation without identity? That’s a lost generation. The effects might probably not be felt immediately but overtime.

When we lose our culture, we lose our grounding. We forget where we came from and that shapes where we think we can go. Without intention, we risk becoming cultural ghosts; living, but disconnected from who we truly are. This and more is why what Ngale Arts 428 is doing matters to me and I choose to believe, all of us. The Cultural Day isn’t just an event. It’s a movement. A reminder. A celebration. A call to intentional cultural preservation.

From traditional dances to indigenous foods, folktales to crafts, this event is about reviving and showcasing Malawi’s cultural richness to both Malawians and non-Malawians alike. Young or old, this is our heritage. And am deeply proud to be a part of the organizing team.

I would like to remind us though that, preserving culture doesn’t begin on big stages. It starts at home. It starts with a grandmother telling a folktale, a mother teaching a traditional recipe, a child learning a local dance or a father passing down a proverb.

My hope is that this event will ignite curiosity, spark conversations and plant seeds, especially among young people. About who we are and what we must preserve.

Because culture isn’t just what we do. It’s who we are.