By Burnett Munthali
In the heart of Southern Africa, Malawi and Zambia are grappling with a poignant question: where do national heroes rest? The burial of prominent figures often sparks a tug-of-war between the state’s desire for a unified national shrine and deeply rooted cultural preferences for family-led or ancestral resting places.
The situation in Malawi is a testament to this struggle. Unlike its neighbor Zambia, Malawi lacks a central “Heroes Acre” where national figures are interred together. Instead, the country has opted for individual mausoleums scattered across the nation, often at the subject’s home village or a site of personal significance.
One such example is the late Chakufwa Chihana, whose family has officially launched the construction of his mausoleum in Mzuzu. After years of the site being neglected and even used as a dumpsite, the family decided to move forward with support from well-wishers rather than waiting indefinitely for the government.
Similarly, Bingu wa Mutharika is buried in the Mpumulo wa Bata mausoleum at his Nthuma Estate in Thyolo, a private project he largely oversaw himself. John Tembo, who passed away in 2023, was buried at his home in Dedza, despite public calls for the government to establish a Heroes Acre for such figures.
The lack of a central Heroes Acre in Malawi is not for lack of trying. Proposals have historically faced opposition, with the Chihana family noting that local culture often discourages exhuming bodies to move them to a national shrine. Across the border, Zambia has a more structured approach, with two primary types of national burial sites: Presidents Park (Embassy Park) in Lusaka, and Heroes Acre near Independence Stadium.
However, even with these sites, conflict remains. The recent dispute over the burial of Edgar Lungu, who died in mid-2025, highlights the ongoing tension between family desires and state interests.
As a reporter, the solution to this dilemma lies not in location, but in legislation. A National Burial Act would provide clear, binding laws that define “Hero Status” and its required burial location before a leader passes.
This would eliminate the “waiting for government” or family-dispute scenarios that have become all too common. Moreover, sustainability funds are crucial to ensure that these sites do not become “eyesores” regardless of who is in power.
The Chihana family’s experience is a prime example of how families are forced to take matters into their own hands, with the government failing to maintain sites.
A possible compromise is the National Monument status for private sites, where the government provides security and maintenance for a home-based grave without forcing a “Heroes Acre” relocation. This approach acknowledges the cultural preference for “resting with ancestors” while still honoring the contributions of national heroes.
As Malawi and Zambia navigate this complex issue, it is clear that the resting place of greatness is not just a matter of burial, but a reflection of a nation’s values and identity.
The international community will be watching closely as these countries grapple with this question, and it is hoped that a solution will be found that honors the memories of their national heroes while respecting the cultural heritage of their people. In the end, the search for a Heroes’ Acre is not just about a physical location, but about finding a way to honor the past while building a better future.
In contrast, Namibia has a more centralized approach, with its presidents buried at Heroes’ Acre, a war memorial located about 10 kilometers south of Windhoek. This site was created to foster patriotism and nationalism, and it’s where individuals accorded hero status are laid to rest.
The burial process is quite dignified, with the president’s coffin draped in the Namibian flag and transported in a glass case atop a military trailer.
Mozambique’s burial practices for presidents aren’t explicitly documented, but neighboring countries like Zimbabwe have specific protocols for burying national heroes, often involving a National Heroes Acre. In Zimbabwe, the burial process typically involves a traditional leader’s court decision, followed by government involvement.
Tanzania has a unique approach, with former presidents typically buried in their home regions or a designated national burial site. Julius Nyerere, Tanzania’s first president, was buried in Butiama, his home village in northern Tanzania, after his passing in 1999.
This reflects the country’s emphasis on connecting leaders with their ancestral roots.
South Africa’s approach is also dignified, with former presidents buried in their hometowns or a designated burial site, often with a state funeral. Nelson Mandela was buried in Qweni, his ancestral village in the Eastern Cape, after a state funeral attended by global leaders.
This reflected his desire to rest among his people and honored his connection to his roots.
Having one graveyard for presidents, like a “Heroes’ Acre,” has several advantages, including national unity, easy maintenance, tourism, and symbolic significance. However, it’s also important to consider cultural and personal preferences, as seen in various African countries.
Some nations prioritize individual or ancestral burial sites, reflecting local traditions and customs.
As Africa continues to grapple with the question of where to bury its national heroes, it is clear that there is no one-size-fits-all solution. Each country must find its own balance between national unity and personal preferences, respecting the cultural heritage of its people while honoring the contributions of its leaders.
The resting place of greatness is not just a matter of burial, but a reflection of a nation’s values and identity.
