Lazarus Chigwandali’s Unyielding Song

Lazarus Chigwandali. It was said that to watch him perform was to witness an act of raw survival disguised as art.

"I didn't realise it was me... my brother taught me that with our condition, we cannot go about work like any other people, so music is a way that we can make a living and also express ourselves."

— Lazarus Chigwandali

To be born with albinism in Sub-Saharan Africa is to carry a target borne out of superstition and ignorance. Across the region, deep-rooted myths persist about albinism; that people born with it are ghosts, that their condition is a curse, or worse, that their body parts possess magical properties capable of bringing wealth when used in witchcraft. They are hunted, abducted, and killed for profit.

Lazarus’s early life was defined by this brutal reality. Ostracized by peers and isolated from the normal field work his parents did, his sanctuary became the instrument he built alongside his brother, Petulo. When Petulo tragically succumbed to skin cancer, a silent killer that claims a vast majority of Africans with albinism due to a lack of dermatological care, Lazarus was left alone with his music.

Singlehandedly, he learned to craft stringed instruments from discarded oil cans and scrapwood after being excluded from school and community labor due to albinism and poor eyesight. Later on, he took to the streets of Lilongwe, transforming his isolation into an explosive weapon.

The moment that changed everything occurred in late 2017. A passerby filmed Lazarus stomping his drum and wailing into the air, and posted the short clip online. The snippet caught the eye of London-based music producer Johan Hugo. Struck by the unadulterated passion in Lazarus’s voice, Hugo flew to Malawi to find the elusive street performer.

What began as an effort to record a few songs evolved into a movement. Along with Oscar-nominated filmmaker David Darg and producer Bryn Mooser, the team filmed a documentary tracking Lazarus’s rise from a hunted busker to an international recording artist. Executive produced by Madonna and released to critical acclaim at the Tribeca Film Festival, LAZARUS became a profound, soul-stirring window into the reality of albinism.

Lazarus’s debut album, rightly titled Stomp on the Devil, was recorded right outside his home in Malawi to preserve the warmth and earnestness of his sound. His lyrics do not beg for pity; they demand humanity. He sings of justice, equal rights, and spiritual warfare against the ignorance that breeds violence.

Today, Lazarus stands as an international ambassador and advocate for human rights, working closely with the United Nations and local NGOs to protect people with albinism. Raising his family back in Lilongwe, including two sons born with the same condition, he uses his platform to ensure his children grow up in a world where their skin is not a death sentence, but a symbol of pride.