When President Kenneth Kaunda’s video resurfaced in which he ominously warned against then-candidate Hakainde Hichilema, I, like many who supported HH, brushed it off. Little did I know that ignoring his prophetic words would come back to haunt me. Kaunda, with the precision of a sniper, chose his words carefully, knowing full well the havoc the HH presidency would wreak on our beloved nation. Today, Kaunda’s urgent warning remains etched in our collective memory. He is daily haunted by our stubbornness. “I warned you,” I can hear him mourn from his grave, “this man is dangerous.”

President Kaunda’s admonition was not a whisper in the wind; it was an alarm—a kairos call to help us see Mr. Hichilema’s sweet promises for what they truly are: lies. To understand his humanity, one must see how he treats his opponents—he wants to drink their blood, just short of Idi Amin and Paul Kagame.

The showman-in-chief has since attempted to spin Kaunda’s words into a friendly embrace, smiling from beyond the grave. Yet the sting of Kaunda’s caution comes alive every time Hichilema utters KK’s name, goes to the airport, or sees his portrait. Incapable of governing, Hichilema, with his signature narcissistic flair, must hate Kaunda for so bluntly laying bare the hard truth. If KK is indeed what HH labels him—the father of the nation—then we’d be wise to heed his ancestral guidance about the man now at the helm.

Kaunda knew what many of us have come to realize: Hichilema cares little beyond the reflection staring back at him. He’s the “first president in history” to inherit a divided nation, negotiate with the IMF, and, of course, open the mines—an astounding list of “achievements” worthy of a reality TV show. Let’s not forget his historic crusade against corruption—did someone say monumental? Who investigates himself? Fortunately, he’s also the first to bask in the glory of unplastered toilets, all the while convincing outsiders that Zambia’s beautiful infrastructure is a testament to his visionary leadership. He is the first shameless man with the audacity to take credit for other presidents’ accomplishments—even things he openly demeaned. A champion, indeed! And how could we overlook that he’s the first president to honor the man who warned us he might be the most dangerous person to lead this country? Mr. Hichilema’s followers? Now shamefully terrified to chant “Bally will fix it” in public—there’s no louder applause than in the echoing silence of an unplastered toilet!

Enter the drama of “tribalism.” Like a character in a Nollywood drama, Hichilema weeps and wails, lamenting how his critics are Bemba tribalists and thieves.

One wonders: if the Bembas are tribalists, why did they vote for him? They must be either fools or the most patriotic Zambians—they can’t be both, surely! Yet it’s these “fools” who bear the brunt of the tribalist label. Today, they demand National Registration Cards for civil servants seeking promotions within their own departments. Tribe, village, and chief are now seen as patriotic qualifications! If you are not a commander, it is “passover!”

Today, questioning tribal loyalty is akin to declaring war on the very existence of God. Ministries like Agriculture are dominated by one sacred tribe, yet the president remains blissfully—or perhaps willfully—silent. It is not tribal favoritism, but tribal empowerment. It is affirmative action, the presidency once implied, having suffered years of oppression from despicable tribalists, hegemonists, and thieves. Thus, they do not promote tribes other than their own. Thick as thieves, they only affirm them, drawing the ire of the voiceless masses.

When it comes to voting, tribal patriotism shines brighter than a diamond in the summer sun. A three-decade-long love affair with one divine party and its Christ-like candidate—all aligned with their tribe. Don’t get me wrong! They’re not tribalists; they’re simply tribal patriots. Tribalists are often open-minded, but tribal patriots? They’re as closed off as a rusty lock. Only one among their ranks dares to govern, while the president hurls accusations of tribalism at other tribes yet turns a blind eye to the tribal patriots he relies upon, election after election. Without tribal patriots, his presidency is dead; his party is dead.

Tribalists from Luapula, Muchinga, and Northern gift him over 40% of their ballots. As for tribal patriots, 100% is assured to their sacred party. Why? Because tribal patriots know what’s best for their people—themselves. As for tribalists, they think of the nation. Anyone who promises them sweets, they follow. So did Levy Mwanawasa, Banda, Michael Sata, Edgar Lungu, and, of course, President HH! Like mercenaries, tribalists follow whoever has the purse. Nevers Mumba and Frank Bwalya? President HH is doing great—throwing tribalists into jail unless they kiss his boots. Chishimba Kambwili? Poor GBM? That once self-proclaimed champion, willing to die for HH? Well, now he’s dying in jail—a befitting end for a tribalist, hegemonist, and perhaps, a thief!

Kapya Kaoma!

Adalberto Costa Júnior and the New Wave of Accountability in Angola

Angola’s political scene is witnessing a surge of bold rhetoric from its leaders, challenging entrenched practices and calling for genuine transparency. Amid a climate of disillusionment over mismanaged public funds, two distinct voices have emerged as catalysts for change: the passionate social media outcries of parliamentarians and the uncompromising address of UNITA’s own Adalberto Costa Júnior.

In recent weeks, Angola’s legislative corridors have been reverberating with a new kind of dissent. Prominent lawmakers, including Arián Lusadisu Nhany and Anabela Sapalalo, have used Facebook as their podium to condemn what they describe as an endemic culture of unchecked favoritism and opaque public contracts.

Anabela Sapalalo’s post resonated deeply among citizens when she declared:

“No longer shall we stand by and watch Angola bleed from the hands of those who only serve themselves.”

Her statement, alongside similar sentiments voiced by Arián Lusadisu Nhany, has sparked widespread discussion online.  The main complaint of Anabela Sapalalo (Special Advisor to the President for Economic Affairs) is the lack of transparency in the government and its contracts: «This week, we had contact with the video of Activist Henrique Stress and the photo of the leaked document and it only confirms our doubts as citizens and people’s representatives in the National Assembly, the government is not being transparent. The public procurement model MPLA government has been using since 2017 (Direct Concession & Direct Procurement) does not guarantee free market competition, it directly affects the model recommended by IMF which is public tender. As a result, only a handful of companies linked to the regime continue to be favored and fattened with the accomplice look of Mr. President of the Republic. That’s very wrong. This document should be the target of investigation by the Prosecutor General’s Office of the Republic, which at the headquarters of its functions, should look for the parties involved and here citing Mota-Engil and LAR, to explain the content of the letter and the model of project management. To be true, we are facing yet another case of corruption and influence trafficking on Lobito Corridor».

Ordinary citizens, frustrated by stagnant infrastructure and eroded public trust, have rallied behind these calls for accountability. The digital outcry not only reflects an urgent desire for reform but also signals a growing readiness among Angolans to demand that every public decision be subject to scrutiny.

The growing chorus of discontent reached a crescendo during the opening session of the XII parliamentary days in Cabinda, known as “Galo Negro.” Here, Adalberto Costa Júnior, the leader of UNITA, delivered an address that cut through the prevailing rhetoric with startling clarity and urgency.

Costa Júnior denounced the practice of awarding contracts without a public tendera method he described as the “new face of corruption.” He argued that these expedited, simplified processes have funneled vast sums of public money into private hands. According to his account, from 2018 until December 2024, an astonishing 32 billion kwanza (over 700 million dollars) was spent on such direct awards. For him, these figures are not mere statistics; they represent a systemic erosion of public trust and a dangerous opening for monopolies and emerging oligarchs.

“Large scale projects and essential public works are increasingly marred by cartel-like practices. From these off-the-record decisions, new millionaires and monopolies are being born this is corruption, but in a reinvented form that operates with impunity.”

This uncompromising critique not only challenges the current administrative methods but also questions the very foundations of how state resources are allocated. Costa Júnior’s address is both a call for immediate reform and a stark warning that if these practices continue unchecked, they will only further entrench a system that alienates the very people it is meant to serve.

These stirring voices come at a time when Angola’s promise of prosperity, buoyed by its natural resources, hangs in a delicate balance. The practical impact of bypassing standard public procurement procedures goes beyond financial mismanagement—it casts a long shadow over the country’s developmental prospects. While projects like the Lobito Corridor were once heralded as beacons of progress, they now risk becoming casualties in a system where short-term gains for the elite take precedence over sustainable national growth.

The combined force of grassroots digital activism and high-level political denunciations creates an unprecedented atmosphere of accountability. As citizens become increasingly aware of the mechanisms behind state spending, leaders like Costa Júnior and lawmakers like Sapalalo are positioned as potential harbingers of reform. Their messages underscore a crucial truth: genuine progress in Angola will require not only financial oversight but also a renewed commitment to democratic transparency.

The current momentum suggests that Angolans are no longer willing to passively witness a system that sidelines their future for the benefit of a select few. The dialogue initiated on social media, coupled with the formidable speeches in parliamentary halls, might well signal the beginning of a transformative period in Angolan politics. If these calls for transparency and reform gain sufficient traction, they could pave the way for more equitable governance and, ultimately, a brighter future for the nation.

By reimagining both the form and content, this piece shifts the focus from a mere exposé of corruption to a nuanced exploration of how brave political voices are challenging the status quo. It invites readers to consider that in the struggle for accountability, the power of honest discourse may be the most potent tool of all.

Is the State Under Siege?
Wynter M. Kabimba, SC, ODS

The return to multiparty democracy in 1991 brought a great deal of relief to Zambians who experienced the excesses of the One-Party State rule.

Democracy meant hope and freedom for all. It also promised a stable society in which social and economic progress would thrive without let or hindrance. But above all this, most of us looked forward to a functioning State as the overall centre of power and good governance.

However, what was not remotely anticipated was the gradual emergence of other power-centres which would heavily compete with the State in an equalled manner and with a clear agenda to render the State almost dysfunctional.

It is a common historical phenomenon that power is always contested. But, in a democracy, the people give their power to their elected representatives. They give them a mandate to exercise it on their behalf and also in their interest. And, therefore, any other group of citizens, however noble their intentions cannot and should not claim to represent the people more than the men and women the people voted for to run the affairs of State with the president at the head of State power structures. This does not, however, mean that the church, traditional authorities, opposition political parties and civil society organizations are irrelevant or that they have no role to play in the affairs of State. What they cannot do or should not be allowed to do is to act like separate or parallel state entities in a power-sharing arrangement with the elected representatives of the people and the State.

These unelected entities are all subordinate to the State. Whereas they may claim to represent their constituencies, they lack the legal mandate in a democracy to claim the same authority which the State commands. To purport to do so is to sow seeds of anarchy in a democratic society.

The early signs of the State’s loss of its hold-on power is when the competing power-centres start projecting religious, regional, tribal and ethnic interests to promote and preserve personal or narrow group interests over and above national unity and identity. These are smoldering fires to which the State can only turn a blind eye and a deaf ear at great cost to its mandate and the survival of the nation-state.

Let me say with an instructive Dutch proverb that, “Little is done when many command.”

There is an equivalent in my mother tongue, “there’s no commander among equals. (Zyembela beelene.)”

Digital Freedom or Digital Anarchy? Why Zambia Needs to Clean Up Social Media

Once upon a time, misinformation in Zambia moved slowly – passed between curious marketeers, office chatter, and neighbourhood gossip. Today, a single misleading Facebook post or a half-baked WhatsApp voice note can spark national outrage within minutes. We now live in a time where truth is often the casualty of viral excitement, and social media – for all its blessings – is becoming both a mirror and a magnifier of our deepest societal flaws.

Take the recent incident involving former Defence Minister Geoffrey Bwalya Mwamba (GBM). In an astonishing showcase of digital recklessness, online users circulated false news of his death. Not only was this disrespectful to the family and friends, but it also exposed how social media platforms can be hijacked to play god with people’s lives.

But this is not a standalone case. We’ve seen social media used to spread tribal slurs, manufacture lies about politicians, destroy marriages with leaked private content, and even scam the most vulnerable out of their hard-earned savings. Some platforms have become breeding grounds for vulgarity and sexualised content, where young users are exposed to indecent material without filters. Meanwhile, self-proclaimed social commentators freely dish out insults, attack others’ dignity, and create fake “breaking news” for attention.

Let me be clear: social media is not the problem. In fact, it’s one of the greatest tools of our time. It has empowered citizens to hold power to account. It has given young Zambians a platform to promote businesses, tell their stories, expose corruption, and even educate others through skits and commentary. During COVID-19, social media was a lifeline for accurate information and community mobilisation. Even now, cooperatives and small businesses are using Facebook to connect with markets that were previously unreachable.

The problem is the abuse – the unchecked anarchy disguised as “freedom of speech.”

This is where the Cyber Security and Cyber Crimes Act becomes critical. Yes, some fear that the law might be used to silence dissent or curtail civil liberties. That is a valid concern. But the law, if fairly and transparently enforced, is our best shot at cleaning up the digital mess before it rots the core of our national values.

Zambia cannot continue allowing social media to be a safe haven for scammers, fake prophets, digital nudists, and tribal warlords hiding behind anonymous profiles. The law provides tools to fight back against:

• Cyberbullying and harassment (especially affecting women and public figures)

• Scams involving fake investment schemes, crypto fraud, and online theft

• Leaking of private photos or sex tapes – a trend that is destroying lives

• Insults and demeaning language, now passed off as “content creation”

• Tribal hate speech, which threatens national unity

• Pornographic and indecent exposure, easily accessible by minors

But laws alone are not enough.

We need massive investment in digital literacy. From Grade 5 pupils to university students, from church groups to komboni residents  everyone needs to understand how to verify news, report abuse, protect themselves from scams, and respect others online. Civil society, ZICTA, the Ministry of Information, and social media influencers must partner to lead this moral and technological revolution.

Only when we combine policy, education, and community responsibility can we restore sanity online. The digital space must evolve into a zone of innovation, truth, and unity—not a playground for hate, deception, and immorality.

Zambia deserves a digital culture that builds, not breaks. The future of our nation’s conversation online and offlinede pends on it.

-Douglas Leroy Namafente is a columnist, social analyst, and radio host. He writes on digital culture, governance, and political communication in Zambia-.