Malcolm was the second of four sons of Colin and Joy Molyneux (née Gammon). He was born on 20 November 1943 in what was then Belgian Congo (now the Democratic Republic of Congo), where his parents were missionaries. The family lived on a remote mission station surrounded by forest and, when formal school was needed beyond what an older lady missionary could provide, Malcolm and his 3 brothers went to boarding school in Northern Rhodesia (now Zambia). The journey took a week by car. The roads were bad, often muddy and churned up by heavy vehicles, fuel had to be carried as there were few places to refuel; but of course, the children thought the whole trip enormous fun. Their parents left them at Sakeji Mission School, a Christian boarding school, and returned once a year to take them home for the Christmas holidays. Holidays were times to hunt in the forest with local children, swim in the rivers and make swings and obstacle courses in the trees.
Being left in boarding school in England at the age of 13 years must have been a jolt to his system. At Eltham, he was very able both academically and as a gifted sportsman. He particularly enjoyed rugby. His distinctive running style – ramrod straight back, head upright and with an eye for the incisive break – epitomised his character. A fellow pupil later commented that Malcolm had been one of the most generous-spirited people he had ever met, and his character shone through as Head of School.
When at Eltham his parents were still in the Congo, at a time of great civil unrest. Anti-government feelings ran high, and militants targeted all expatriates regardless of who they were and why they were there. Malcolm and his brothers had no news of their parents until a newspaper headline listed people who were missing, believed killed. Colin and Joy Molyneux had heard over the radio of nearby massacres and along with colleagues decided to leave. They were picked up in a small plane that spotted them in a forest opening and were ferried out to South Africa on the last plane to leave. The seats had been removed to make space and baggage was limited to identity cards. After 6 weeks, Malcolm and his brothers heard they were safe.
Malcolm won a scholarship to St Catharine’s College, Cambridge, to read natural sciences, obtaining a first-class degree. He did his clinical training at St Bartholomew’s Hospital. There he met Elizabeth Neech, his future wife. They qualified in 1968 and married the following year.
Malcolm trained as a physician and worked in London, Gloucester, Solihull, East Birmingham, Northwick Park and the Royal Free. In Northwick Park he was registrar to Sir David Tyrell who worked on rhinovirus at a research station at Harvard Hospital, Salisbury. Volunteers were given a common cold virus, or an oral or nasal flu vaccine, followed by a dose of virus. The registrars were expected to race around obtaining timed samples. At the Royal Free he was registrar to Dame Sheila Sherlock, renowned for her liver research but also for being tough on her staff. She liked Malcolm and was dismayed when he told her he was planning to work in a mission hospital in Malawi. She tried and failed to entice him to do research in Zambia or Saudi Arabia instead.
In 1974, Malcolm, Liz and their two small children went to Malawi. At their insistence they were allowed to attend language classes for three months on arrival. At least Malcolm was - the course was for the Catholic religious, and wife and children did not fit the bill. Based in St Luke’s hospital, Malosa, Malcolm was Jack-of-All-Trades – doing obstetrics, minor surgery, paediatrics, and medicine. He soon came to attention of the Ministry of Health and was asked to take up a post in the government referral hospital in Blantyre, Malawi, where he worked for ten years.
In 1984 the family returned to the UK when Malcolm was appointed as senior lecturer at the Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine. He had done an MD on hepatitis in Malawi but was asked by Prof Herbert Gillies to focus his research on malaria. He and Terrie Taylor, an American doctor at the LSTM, joined forces to study severe malaria in Malawi. In 1994 Malcolm and Peter Winstanley received a grant from the Wellcome Trust to create and develop the Malawi Liverpool Wellcome Research Laboratories, within the Malawi College of Medicine. This started as a small side lab in the paediatric department in which the person on duty at night (Malcolm or Terrie) would sleep in a hammock. It grew over the years into a large 2 storey building of labs and offices.
Malcolm strove to give career and training opportunities to Malawian clinicians and scientists and research expanded to include other infectious diseases. He was a great facilitator and promoter of people with a wonderful gift of always seeing the best in a person. Malcolm had a great enthusiasm for life, loved climbing Mulanje mountain, going on rather unplanned cycling trips, turning them into adventures, and encouraged others to join him. He had a deep knowledge and love of classical music and sang with the Blantyre Music Society. He conducted the choir, augmented by police and army bands, church choirs and anyone who wanted to join in singing the Messiah, Carmina Burana, Israel in Egypt, the B Minor Mass, and other grand works. His quirky sense of humour and patience was appreciated by all. Yet, despite all his scientific success and social activities he never thought he was much good at anything, and that humility endeared him to people.
In the 1990s he was diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukaemia which caused no problems until 2013 when it transformed into a high-grade lymphoma. Treatment was successful but he relapsed and further treatment was required. Despite significant ataxia he would still ride his bike (‘easier than walking’) but by 2020 he was onto third- or fourth-line therapy. Despite this he continued to be ombudsman for the Lancet Group, wrote witty emails to family and friends and took up woodwork.
In 2006 he, and his wife received OBEs from the Queen for services to medicine and research in Malawi. In 2009 The Royal Society of Tropical Medicine awarded him the Sir Rickard Christopher Medal in recognition of outstanding work in tropical medicine and hygiene. in 2020 the Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine (LSTM) honoured him with a Doctorate.
He died on 16 November 2021 peacefully with his family at his side. His funeral in Liverpool celebrated his life. At a memorial service in Blantyre many paid tributes to his kindness, humour, humility, and science. He would appreciate that cycling friends took his ashes up Mulanje mountain to scatter them in remembrance of many, many happy trips made there. He leaves his wife and four children, Catherine (Sassy), Matthew, Ben and Sam (two doctors, a dentist and social scientist).
Elizabeth Molyneux
Colin Morley