In this part of the world, we’ve mastered the art of the theatre of the absurd. Down in Malawi, nine “mourners” decided that a hearse was better suited for logistics than for the late dearly departed. They weren’t transporting a body to its final resting place; they were moving thirty bags of charcoal. It’s a creative low, even for a region where the hustle has long since replaced any semblance of morality.

Forestry officials in Chikwawa thought they were stopping a funeral procession, only to find an empty casket sitting on top of 3 million kwacha worth of illicit fuel. It’s the ultimate irony. While the world talks about green energy and carbon footprints, we’re out here using the dead to hide the very things that are killing our forests. But can you blame them? When electricity is a luxury and blackouts are the only thing the government provides consistently, people will find a way to cook, even if it means turning a coffin into a delivery crate.

The real punchline, however, isn’t the charcoal - it’s the “arrest.” The suspects were briefly detained, only to pull a disappearing act right under the noses of the authorities. They escaped custody, leaving the hearse behind like a discarded prop. It’s the same old story from Blantyre to Nairobi: the police are experts at catching the small fish and even better at letting them slip through their fingers once the paperwork - or the pocket - gets heavy. Nine people on the run, and we all know they’re probably just setting up a new “funeral” service two towns over.

We’re living in a comedy of errors where even the grave isn’t sacred if there’s a profit margin involved. This isn’t just a Malawi problem; it’s a continental symptom. We treat our resources like a clearance sale and our laws like hurdles to be jumped. If you want to see how “independence” is actually working out, just look at how we’re forced to outsource our basic needs and dignity, much like how Kenya’s ‘Independence’ is Now a Subscription Service to Ethiopia.

So, next time you see a somber funeral procession crawling through traffic, don’t be too quick to offer a prayer. For all you know, that casket is full of fuel for someone’s dinner, and the “grieving” family is just a group of entrepreneurs waiting for their next payday. In this economy, the only thing truly dead is our collective sense of shame. The hustle doesn’t stop for the afterlife; it just uses it as a tax-exempt vehicle.