Malawi

The Land Cruiser had struggled most of the morning, but the problem became impossible to ignore when the road tilted sharply upward.

The track cut across the hillside, a pale dirt ribbon. Its surface looked harmlessly dry, yet appearances during Malawi’s rainy season have a tendency to deceive. Beneath the crust lay thick, tire-gripping mud. Partway up the incline, still well short of the summit, the engine temperature needle climbed again. The radiator hissed, and the vehicle jerked to a shrieking stop.

We climbed out into the heat to assess the damage. An early-’90s model past its prime, the Land Cruiser had been temperamental for days. Northern Malawi’s demanding roads—riddled with deep potholes, loose stones, and sudden inclines—already challenged the vehicle. The creeping radiator problem meant frequent pauses; someone would hop out with water, lift the hood, and pour as steam curled upward. We’d become its F1 pit crew.

We tried pushing, then digging, then pushing again. Tires spun helplessly, spraying mud. From our vantage point on the slope, the view stretched for miles. Lake Malawi shimmered in the distance, an impossible blue sheet framed by green hills and scattered fishing villages. Ordinarily, this breathtaking vista would make the journey worthwhile, but after hours of struggle, the scenery felt less romantic.

Eventually, our driver disappeared down the road, returning an hour later with three young men from the nearest village. They lined up behind the vehicle, leaned their weight into the metal frame, pushing as the engine roared and wheels fought for traction.

The process was slow; the truck advanced only a few feet at a time. By the time it finally lurched free, the sun was setting. The planned coffee farm visit was still many miles away, so we instead rolled slowly back down the hill toward our base in Bwengu. Along the way, we bought bananas from a woman balancing a basket on her head. With our plans ruined and snacks long gone, they served as our makeshift lunch. From the front seat, our guide Owen laughed, shook his head, and wiped sweat from his face.

‘This is Africa.’

In Malawi, things rarely unfold as planned. Progress is slow, interruptions are common, and the road forward—literally and metaphorically—demands patience. The country’s coffee sector is much the same.

A small coffee country

Malawi rarely appears in global coffee origin conversations. Landlocked between Tanzania, Zambia, and Mozambique, the country produces only a tiny fraction of the world’s coffee supply. Compared with regional giants like Ethiopia or Kenya, Malawi’s output is barely visible in international statistics.

Yet despite this, the conditions for growing coffee are surprisingly promising.

Malawian coffee is mostly cultivated in the northern highlands, often at elevations exceeding 3,900 feet (1,200m). Soils are rich and fertile, rainfall is generally reliable, and Lake Malawi’s slopes provide excellent drainage and natural temperature moderation. On paper, it spears to be an ideal environment for quality coffee cultivation, provided the right systems are in place.

Mwakambonje Msukwa, head of the Viphya Cooperative, highlighted Malawi’s promise: ‘We’ve got great soil [and] potential for really great coffee here.’ This optimism is widely shared across the Malawian coffee sector, where favourable agricultural conditions are well recognized. However, the primary challenge lies in developing the necessary infrastructure and support systems to translate this potential into a thriving export industry.

Infrastructure poses the primary obstacle. Coffee cherries from remote farms often travel along rudimentary dirt tracks or narrow footpaths to reach washing stations. During the rainy season, these routes become muddy corridors, slowing or halting vehicles. Paradoxically, the very rains that nourish the coffee trees can simultaneously impede harvest movement. After processing, the journey continues. As Malawi is landlocked, every international shipment must first traverse another country to reach a port, typically Dar Es Salaam (Tanzania) or Beira (Mozambique). This means coffee often travels hundreds or thousands of miles by truck before loading onto a cargo ship, adding significant time, cost, and risk at every stage of the supply chain.

For farmers and exporters striving for recognition in the specialty market, these logistical hurdles profoundly shape almost every decision.

Hard times and beautiful coffees

Smallholder farmers cultivate most Malawian coffee on modest plots across the country. These farms rarely specialize in coffee; instead, it is integrated into a complex patchwork of crops and livelihoods, helping families navigate rural uncertainties. Wani Mkandawire, founder of the UK-based Malawian Coffee Company describes this as ‘a necessary kind of survival.’ While coffee offers valuable income, it seldom supports a family independently. Farmers diversify with crops like maize or bananas for food security, livestock such as pigs or chickens for cash, and macadamia nuts for seasonal income.

Mr Chiuma, a smallholder who sells all his production to Wani’s company, has cultivated coffee for 14 years. Previously, his land was dedicated primarily to maize, but coffee presented the potential for higher earnings. Today, his five-hectare coffee plot on a hillside overlooking the valley hosts both gesha and catimor varieties. The trees thrive among shade plants and fruit trees, forming a verdant garden.

Coffee alone does not sustain Mr Chiuma’s farm. He and his family also raise pigs and sell maize and macadamia nuts. Children’s school fees represent a significant household expense, and robust coffee yields help cover these costs.

In recent years, yields have become less predictable, he reports. ‘Climate change has impacted us very much,’ he notes as rain begins to fall. Local weather patterns are shifting: temperatures fluctuate more dramatically, and the timing of flowering and fruit development is increasingly difficult to anticipate. While trees still produce cherries, maintaining quality now requires greater effort and leaves smaller margins for error. Though Malawi hasn’t been hit as hard as some other producing countries, its farmers remain vigilant about changing weather.

Historically, farmers sold coffee through cooperatives responsible for collecting, processing, and exporting cherries. These organizations remain vital, providing structure and market access that individual farmers would otherwise lack. However, they too face financial constraints that ripple throughout the entire supply chain.

Mr Msukwa of Viphya Cooperative highlights two primary obstacles to expansion: inadequate capital for infrastructure and persistent delays in buyer payments. He explains that the conventional coffee-trading structure often causes payment delays, often stretching to five months before farmers receive their earnings. ‘This is horrible,’ he laments, ‘but with no money in the bank, what can we do?’ Such prolonged financial strain discourages farmers from investing further in coffee cultivation, as they lose trust in a system that fails to promptly reward their hard work. Moreover, this lack of capital prevents cooperatives from adequately supporting farmers with crucial inputs like fertilizers and manures.

Delayed payments pose a significant challenge for farmers who rely on a steady cash flow to support their families. Waiting months for compensation after harvest forces growers to sell other crops prematurely or incur debt to cover everyday expenses. In Bwengu, villagers describe a ‘hungry time’ between major planting and harvesting seasons, when restricted cash flow leaves households with limited or no food for days. During these periods, older women typically share their meagre provisions and go without to ensure others can eat.

Many younger villagers turn to tobacco cultivation on lower-altitude plots for its promise of a steadier income. The golden leaves are dried in specialist shelters throughout the settlement. While tobacco cultivation is more labour-intensive than coffee, fewer older generations continue to grow it. Conversely, Mr Msukwa observes, ‘you will not find many young farmers involved in coffee growing.’ Coffee demands considerable patience; trees can take several years to produce their first meaningful harvest, and even then, income may not be immediate. For younger farmers, crops offering faster returns are far more appealing.

Another challenge lies in the opacity of the supply chain. Once coffee leaves a farm or cooperative, farmers typically lose all insight into its journey or how it is received by buyers abroad. ‘When it goes to Mzuzu, then it is out of our hands,’ Mr Msukwa explains. Without direct feedback from roasters or consumers, it becomes difficult for growers to comprehend the true value of meticulous harvesting, selective picking, or improved processing methods. Consequently, the crucial link between quality and price remains abstract rather than tangible.

Still, small signs of positive change are beginning to emerge. Some exporters and entrepreneurs, like Wani, are experimenting with more direct purchasing relationships. They work closely with farmers and offer significantly higher prices for well prepared coffee. Born in Malawi and raised in the UK, Wani sought a business opportunity that would connect his two homes and allow him to give back. After an unsuccessful venture cultivating fruit on his family’s Malawian farm, he discovered promising potential in coffee.

‘Coffee alone is not going to sustain a family, but it can bring a significant amount of money into a household. And I thought we could raise that amount because with more money and security we can do things like fix the roofs over people’s heads, pay off debts, and address other practical needs. But there’s also the intangible aspects, like the sense of pride in one’s work. When you pay them more and tell them how well received their product is, people really beam.’ Coffee thus becomes something more than a mere crop: it becomes a product with identity, reputation, and potential.

The long road ahead

Understanding coffee production in Malawi requires acknowledging its embeddedness within the rhythm of daily life. Farms are not isolated economic units but integral parts of wider households and communities, shaped by family responsibilities, education and healthcare costs, and the inherent unpredictability of weather and markets. A successful coffee harvest, for instance, might cover school fees or repair a storm-damaged roof. Conversely, a poor harvest could force families to rely more heavily on maize crops or livestock to sustain themselves through the year.

One morning, we visited the village primary school. Despite over four hundred children attending, the facilities clearly reflected limited rural resources. Some classrooms had mud floors, sections of the roof were damaged from the previous rainy season, and only one room had electricity. Students shared desks where possible, and teachers moved between crowded classrooms throughout the day.

Despite these challenges, the school represented a symbol of hope. Education access in Malawi has expanded significantly over the past decades, bolstered by government initiatives aimed at reducing school fees. Indeed, since January 2026, state schooling is free for all children through secondary school. For coffee-growing households, these changes could make a meaningful difference. With education becoming more accessible, parents can redirect scarce financial resources toward improving their farms, whether by planting new coffee trees or investing in better processing equipment.

Within the coffee sector, conversations increasingly revolve around how Malawi can build a stronger identity in the specialty market. While the country’s production volumes remain small, this scale also allows for experimentation. Some farmers are already cultivating varieties like gesha alongside traditional cultivars, and early tastings suggest the region’s terroir is capable of producing complex and distinctive flavour profiles. ‘Our farmers are very ready,’ Mr Msukwa tells me. ‘What we want as stakeholders is the capacity to help motivate the farmers so that they can do more than what he or she is able to do now. For this we need support and we need different policies.’

His statement encapsulates both optimism and realism. Farmers are eager to grow coffee, experiment, and adopt new techniques, but their motivation is contingent on tangible rewards. Creating these incentives demands better prices, more reliable payment systems, improved infrastructure, and stronger connections to international buyers. Crucially, a lack of investment and support from local and national governments has long hindered growth efforts, yet a growing and vocal chorus of coffee producers is now lobbying for change.

None of these transformations will happen quickly. Establishing better washing stations and mills, improving roads, strengthening cooperative financing, and forging direct export relationships are gradual processes that unfold over years, not months. Yet, small but significant steps are already visible. The Malawian government, supported by the United Nations Industrial Development Organization, has launched an ambitious National Coffee Strategy 2025–2040 with the aim of scaling up coffee production. New partnerships are forming, younger farmers are beginning to explore specialty coffee cultivation, and international buyers are starting to pay closer attention to what this overlooked origin might offer. Malawi remains a minor presence in the global coffee market, its beans appearing only occasionally and fleetingly on specialty menus. However, the hills around Lake Malawi hold untapped potential, and its farmers are deeply committed to making the most of their land’s capabilities.

The path forward mirrors the muddy road where our Land Cruiser stalled: steep, uncertain, and requiring more effort than expected. Progress will likely come in small increments rather than dramatic leaps, shaped by collaboration among farmers, exporters, and buyers who genuinely believe in the region’s possibilities. Sometimes, such progress is slow, almost imperceptible. But then the wheels grip, the engine catches, and the vehicle inches forward—one difficult yard at a time.