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The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) is scaling back its presence at Dzaleka Refugee Camp in central Malawi, following severe funding shortages that have forced a reduction in food assistance, healthcare, and other essential programs. Where once tens of thousands relied on these core services, now over 57,000 residents, mainly from the Democratic Republic of Congo, Rwanda, and Burundi, are left facing growing uncertainty. With the camp stretched far beyond its intended capacity, both humanitarian agencies and local authorities are under increasing pressure.

Dzaleka Refugee Camp was established in 1994 to accommodate people fleeing violence in the Great Lakes region. Initially designed to accommodate approximately 10,000 people, it has grown into Malawi’s only official refugee camp, hosting more than five times its intended population. Over the years, it has depended heavily on support from UNHCR and other aid organizations to meet basic needs.

Only 12 Percent of Needed Funds Received

Although no formal announcement has been made about a complete withdrawal, a recent update from UNHCR indicates that the agency has received only 12 percent of the $26.3 million needed to operate in Malawi this year. This shortfall has led to significant cutbacks in services. Clinics within Dzaleka are reporting stockouts of essential medicines, and several partner NGOs have withdrawn support. Additionally, programs providing training and livelihood support have been suspended. The World Food Programme has also been affected; it has reduced monthly cash support from MK 18,000 ($10) to MK 15,000 ($8) per person and warned that, without additional funding, even this may come to an end.

Life inside Dzaleka: Coping with the cuts

Some residents speak to OkayAfrica about how the withdrawal has reshaped everyday life inside the camp. “My mother has been quite ill lately, but the clinics here can’t help her,” says Fazili Sulu, a Congolese-born musician who lives in Dzaleka with his parents and two siblings. “They only treat things like malaria or headaches. For anything else, we have to find a way to get her to Lilongwe.” Known by his stage name “SULLU,” he says the cost and stress of travelling outside the camp for medical care are taking a toll on his family.

Sullu tells OkayAfrica that things have been deteriorating at Dzaleka for a long time, not just since the recent cuts. What frustrates him the most is the sense of being trapped. He isn’t allowed to leave the camp to seek work or explore opportunities. If given the chance, he says, he would love to integrate into Malawian society and live with dignity. However, under Malawi’s encampment policy, his movement is restricted, and like many others in the camp, his future remains suspended in limbo.

David Bin Wakandwa is a pianist and gospel musician living with his family of six at Dzaleka. His story is similar to Sullu’s; he is responsible for five people: his younger siblings, a niece whose mom passed away, and his wife and daughter.

“The money we receive from the UNHCR can only pay for 50kg of maize meal and charcoal. After that, we have to find a way to afford relish and cooking oil.” When asked how he can afford relish, the side dish that accompanies the maize meal staple, he says, “Sometimes I do some farming, but the rains were not enough this year, and I didn’t harvest anything.” It seems all the odds are against him, and he worries about what will happen with the camp.

Bin Wakandwa is a deeply religious man who draws strength from his faith to get through difficult times. He says the challenges he faces only push him forward, especially knowing he will likely be at the refugee camp for a long time. His wife and daughter were both born in the camp, and even if life doesn’t change much for them, he still hopes and wants the best for his family.

Government’s stance: Repatriation and encampment

As humanitarian organizations scale back operations, the Malawian government has found itself under mounting pressure. In May 2025, The Times Group Malawi reported that officials were considering the possibility of repatriating some refugees, particularly those from Rwanda and Burundi, as a response to the growing strain on national resources. The proposal sparked concern from rights groups, who warned that repatriation must be voluntary and carried out under international protection standards, especially given the complex political situations from which many refugees fled.

At the same time, the government has maintained its strict encampment policy, forcing thousands of refugees who had settled in urban areas back into Dzaleka since 2023. While officials argue this ensures better oversight and access to aid, both UNHCR and human rights organizations have criticized the move, citing the camp’s already overstretched infrastructure and the heightened risk of further destabilization.

Malawi’s broader economic crisis

Beyond the refugee situation, Malawi is facing serious economic challenges. In May, the annual inflation rate was 27.7 percent, one of the highest in Africa. To alleviate this pressure, Malawi has devalued its currency, the Malawian Kwacha, several times in recent years to meet demands from international lenders. However, each time the kwacha loses value, life becomes more difficult for ordinary people. Prices rise, especially for essentials like food and fuel. For many Malawians, no matter how hard they work, their money doesn’t stretch as far as it used to.

Twenty-five-year-old Menia Chaphamtengo, who lives in Malawi’s capital, Lilongwe, tells OkayAfrica that the most shocking price hikes have been eggs and sanitary products. “At the beginning of the year, a tray of 30 eggs was MK 10,000 ($5), but now I pay MK 15,000 ($8),” she says. “I’m also paying more than double what I used to for sanitary towels.” Menia worries that with the cost of living rising so quickly, many Malawians, who are already living below the poverty line, will struggle even more to get by.

This growing pressure has led to public frustration. Protests recently broke out in Lilongwe and Blantyre, with street vendors and unemployed youth calling for urgent action on the rising cost of living. At the same time, the worsening economy means the government has little money left to address increasing needs in places like Dzaleka or to expand much-needed humanitarian support.

Malawi has long been praised for its openness to refugees, offering shelter to those fleeing violence and persecution when many others have closed their doors. With support from organizations like UNHCR, the country has hosted thousands in camps like Dzaleka for decades. However, as Malawi faces its own economic crisis, everyone concerned is watching closely to see how this story unfolds and whether compassion can be sustained as pressure mounts.

For people like Sullu and Bin Wakandwa, the dream isn’t just survival, it’s freedom. Returning to the DRC is not an option, but they still hope for the chance to live full, independent lives beyond the boundaries of a refugee camp. Like so many others in Dzaleka, they are waiting not just for policy shifts or handouts, but for the dignity to shape their futures.

Charles Lipanda was only five years old when he became an orphan. By the time he was a teenager, he was fleeing war in the Democratic Republic of Congo.

When he was 14, he arrived at Dzaleka Refugee Camp in Malawi, carrying the weight of trauma and loss. In a place marked by limited opportunity, he turned to poetry as a lifeline.

"I let my heart mourn just like my pen bleeds on scratches of papers and collected them to form a poem," he tells OkayAfrica of his first poem, At the Age of Nine. "I have written so many poems that not only help me heal, but also serve as therapy for others."

Now, six years later, Lipanda is the founder and president of African Youth Artistic Poetry (AYAP), a collective within the camp that offers writing workshops, performances, and mentorship for children and teens. Through AYAP, poetry has become a tool for self-expression and healing.

Dzaleka Refugee Camp, formerly a maximum-security prison, was constructed to accommodate up to 12,000 people. Today, it shelters over 57,000 refugees and asylum seekers from countries including Burundi, Rwanda, and the DRC, according to UNHCR. Humanitarian aid has declined in recent months, making the camp more crowded and under-resourced than ever. Despite these conditions, young artists continue to find ways to create and connect.

Espoir Kahitani is one of them. At 19, he is one of the most recognized performers in the camp. His spoken word poems are known for their intensity and emotional truth.

"Poetry entered my life like a breath when I was suffocating," he tells OkayAfrica. "It came during moments when I had no words left to speak but too many feelings inside. Living in Dzaleka, I watched my family suffer and saw friends leave while we stayed. I needed somewhere to release it all."

The eldest of six siblings, Kahitani was born in the Democratic Republic of Congo and has lived in Dzaleka since 2014. He speaks poetically, even in casual conversation. Though respected for his craft, he admits to feeling trapped. "This place is too small for me. I need space to grow. But there is nowhere to go."

He dreams of performing internationally and resettling in the US. He draws inspiration from poets such as Rudy Francisco and Clayton Jennings. "They are my role models," he says. "I imagine myself on the same stages [they perform on]."

Also, the frustration of waiting for resettlement weighs heavily on him as he has watched friends come and go. "You see new arrivals coming, and they get resettled abroad," he says. "They leave us, 'the long-stayers' in the camp, and it's creating trauma. It says that we've been forgotten or left behind."

In response, he and other young poets have created their own spaces to be seen. Talent shows, poetry battles, and open mics offer moments of release. The annual Tumaini Festival, dubbed the only arts festival in a refugee camp, transforms the camp into a creative hub. With more than 50,000 attendees, it is one of the few chances for young refugees to perform for a bigger audience.

"[Tumaini] means hope," Lipanda says. "The festival not only brings us hope but also offers more opportunities to meet with the right people …It is where our poets go and showcase their abilities in the spoken word industry."

One of those opportunities includes We Name Ourselves, an upcoming documentary that features both Lipanda and Kahitani. The film follows a group of teenage poets from Dzaleka as they prepare for the Tumaini Festival. Filmed last October, the project explores how art can offer hope, resilience, and a sense of identity for young refugees facing systemic barriers.

The film, produced by Home Storytellers, challenges negative perceptions of refugees by highlighting their creativity, humanity, and untapped potential. Both Lipanda and Kahitani embody this message.

Kahitani dreams of performing internationally and sees the United States as a place where his talent could flourish. He imagines sharing his story on global stages, then returning to Dzaleka to inspire the next generation. His goal is to show others that it is possible to be seen and to create change beyond the limits of being a refugee.

Lipanda has already made steps toward that future. He has published two books, Our Voice Is Our Advocate and Being Refugee Wasn't a Choice, and continues to lead AYAP workshops. The program welcomes youth from across the camp's communities. "We provide a safe space for expression," he says. "Poetry is in their blood now."

Day-to-day life in Dzaleka remains difficult. Hunger is common. School is not guaranteed. Kahitani says many young people are focused on survival and have little energy for much else. As a result, leadership in a place like Dzaleka comes with pressure.

"Being a leader here means carrying the silence of others," Kahitani says. "Even when you feel broken inside, you have to keep going. Someone is looking to you for strength."

Both poets are also working to shift how refugees are perceived. Rather than being reduced to statistics or labels, they see themselves as individuals with potential.

In his poem We Are the Dream Diggers, Lipanda describes Dzaleka as "a grave of dreams." Yet despite that, he sees his fellow poets as more than the limitations of their environment. "We are the dream diggers," he writes.