The Shameful Treatment of late Zambia’s Former President Edgar Lungu an African tragedy
By Comrade Jumbe 26/06/25
When a snake dances with you, don’t fear the dance, but remember one day it will bite.”
And so it has been with President Hakainde Hichilema (HH), whose charm-filled campaign and theatrical bicycle rides were nothing but a carefully choreographed political dance masking deeper fangs of betrayal and hypocrisy what has gone wrong with our African leaders?
When HH was campaigning, many Zambians—along with the rest of Africa—thought we were witnessing the rise of a new kind of leader: a humble servant of the people. He cycled through the dusty streets like a man of the masses, giving hope to the jobless youth, inspiring widows, and promising dignity even to his political rivals. But time, as it always does, has revealed the true character beneath the smile.
The same man who preached unity and democracy has become a textbook example of political cruelty and selfishness.
The mistreatment of late President Edgar Lungu is not just a personal attack—it is a national disgrace and an African tragedy.
There is an African proverb that says: “When the elders sit in silence, the village will cry with regret.”
HH’s government stood in silence, cold and indifferent, as Lungu—once the head of state, a father to the nation—faced isolation, harassment, and medical neglect under HH directive.
Now, when the man is gone, suddenly they want to wrap him in national colors and offer him a state funeral? What hypocrisy! One cannot despise a tree when it’s alive and suddenly want to carve a canoe from its wood when it falls.
The bitter truth is clear: HH was never afraid of Lungu as a man; he was afraid of Lungu as a symbol.
A symbol of competition, a symbol of opposition, and most importantly, a symbol that HH’s so-called “new dawn” was nothing more than political window dressing.
Greed for power became thicker than compassion for a fellow leader. This is the classic African leadership sickness: when seeking power, they kneel with tears in their eyes; when they get it, they forget even the graves that helped them climb.
Zambia deserves better. Africa deserves better. We do not need leaders who think riding bicycles is the same as riding economies to growth.
We do not need politicians who think populist stunts are substitutes for transformative policies.
HH’s government has proven that it’s easier to cycle on the campaign trail than to carry the burden of leadership on your shoulders.
The family’s reported consideration to bury President Lungu in South Africa speaks volumes. It is a symbol of lost trust, a deep wound inflicted by the government that was supposed to protect all its citizens—especially former heads of state.
When someone is treated like an enemy in life, how can they become a hero in death?
There’s an old African saying: “The way you treat your elders is the way your offspring will treat you when your hair turns grey.”
Let HH remember this. History has long eyes and a sharp pen. Let this be a warning to every leader across the continent: Power is rented, not owned. The people are watching. Posterity is taking notes.
The legacy of a president is not written in campaign bicycles or political slogans. It is written in how you treat even those you disagree with. It is written in how you respect the dignity of others—even your political enemies. And sadly, for HH, this chapter will be remembered with shame.
My pen is mightier than a sword.
