Mourning the Undead

The phone rang again this morning at 05:21hrs. By now, I know what these early morning (sometimes, late evening) calls mean. You my brother (or sister) has been caught stealing. Again. The mob found you first, and by the time the police arrived, you were barely clinging on to dear life. And me? I don’t complain. I may not even share my struggles with anyone. I don’t even flinch. I simply reached for my phone and started checking how much of what little I had left with in my mobile money account, figuring out how much it would take this time around to bail you out of this latest escapade.  

That’s what my life has become now: not a savior, not a comforter, but the Chief Executive Officer of the cleanup crew. I sweep up the mess you leave behind, mop up the aftermath, patch over the scars. While all this is happening, I am also breaking inside. I need a version of Simon of Cyrene to help me carry this cross to the familial crucifixion. Or else, I remain stuck due to this anchor on my life. 

This is the silent side of addiction to alcohol and the associated crime that no one prepared me for. We usually talk about the people who fall, but rarely about the families who fall with them. Families who live on edge, never knowing if the next call will be another arrest, hospital or the final call no one wants to answer.

I remember us before all this. When we were children, full of hope and reckless laughter. Queens and kings in our own rights. Though poverty was our prison, we swore we would not die in it. We dreamed of living in houses on the hill surrounded by forests, of better lives carved out of ambition and outworking everyone. We had the world by its tail and opportunities felt abound. It was bonded to the belief that we the hoi polloi would take charge of our own story.

I still see traces of that dreamer in your eyes sometimes, before the demons take over, before the addictions dictate your every move. I beg you, in my heart, to fight brother. Fight on sister. Claw your way out of that sunken place. Remember who you were, and who we promised each other we would become.

But how long can you hold on to someone who refuses to hold on to themselves? How do you love someone who is drowning, when every time you reach out, they drag you down with them? Our mother, God bless her soul, confessed to me just last week that she can’t do it anymore. She cried and told me she had changed the locks on her heart. Imagine what it takes for a mother to say that about her own child. That’s what addiction does. Not just to the person using, but to everyone who loves them.

And here’s the brutal truth: I am tired. Tired of rehearsing goodbyes that never come. Tired of being the strong one, the last line of defense, the one left to absorb every new wound. I am exhausted from being a pallbearer while my siblings are still breathing.

They say love is supposed to be tough. But how tough? How many second chances? How many bailouts? How many prayers whispered into the void? At what point does love stop being strength and start being self-destruction? Though they say that for the giving man to withhold helping someone in order to first assure personal fortification is not selfish, but to elude needless self-destruction. It easier said than done.

This problem bigger than just my family. Walk through neighborhoods, police stations, even hospitals, and you’ll find the same stories repeated: sons and daughters consumed by alcohol addictions, siblings stretched to breaking, parents burying children who never found their way back. It is a slow, quiet epidemic. The one that doesn’t always make the headlines but is tearing families apart, piece by piece. Though Zambia's per capita alcohol consumption is generally placed lower than other countries, its rates are still a significant public health concern especially due to high rates of illicit and unrecorded alcohol consumption within the country. There is a huge alcoholism problem in this country, it is never recognized as a problem because alcohol is such a huge part of our recreational culture.

My siblings and I were supposed to make it together. To live the Zambian dream. Instead, I’m left carrying their stories of wasted potential. Of what could have been. Of a life consumed by choices that seemed small at first but ended in ruin. Of liquor slaves. 

And yet despite everything I still hope. Hope that one day, they will rise. That they will remember the child who once dreamed of hills and light, not chains and darkness. Because until the very end, hope is all I have been left to give.

Moba ndi msampha woipa (alcohol is a very dangerous snare) – Chewa Proverb

 

The Golden Disarray

The name Kasempa originates from the title of a powerful 19th-century Kaonde warrior chief, Jipumpu. Known for his swift and unexpected attacks, he would cause his enemies to flee in such a panicked rush that their animal-skin clothing would be left in disarray. This earned him the nickname Kasempakanya bantu biseba (the one who causes a disarray of skins) which was eventually shortened to Kasempa and adopted for his chiefdom. By 1902, the British colonial administration, seeking to secure mineral deposits, established Kasempa as a district. Three years later, when Chief Jipumpu died in 1905, he was succeeded by his nephew Kalusha, who was officially inaugurated as chief in 1907. 18 years later, the Evangelical Church in Zambia would establish Mukinge mission, famed for providing quality faith, health and education.

A century later, Kasempa has become the latest epicentre of Zambia’s new gold rush. Much like its neighbour Mufumbwe, thousands of people from across the country and even the wider SADC region are converging on the area in search of the hypothetical and literal pot of gold. But what looks like opportunity on the surface is quickly revealing deep cracks in public health, social protection and the local economy. The signs are stark. Sanitary facilities are almost non-existent in mining camps, which are unmistakable due to the blue-light tents used for shelters. The Ministry of Health has recorded increases in disease outbreaks linked to overcrowding and poor hygiene. Violence, including murder among miners, has become disturbingly common. For instance, one healthcare facility reported receiving 4 deaths on arrival in the past 3 months, a stark increase for a community that had never experienced such incidents.

For the people of Kasempa, the social cost is visible in classrooms that are losing young girls to early motherhood and households forced into deeper poverty as the cost of basic goods skyrockets under inflated demand. Many of the mothers seeking care at under-5 clinics appeared to be minors, a testament to the rising issue of early motherhood in the area.

Kasempa’s story is not an isolated one. It mirrors a broader problem in Zambia’s artisanal and small-scale mining sector. While the large-scale mining industry operates under relatively clear licensing and environmental rules, the small-scale mining sector remains fragmented and under-regulated. Zambia is estimated to have more than 100,000 artisanal and small-scale miners, yet only a fraction operate under formal licences. The cost of licensing and the complexity of the process push many into informal operations, where oversight is weak and risks are high.

The government has begun to expand support for this subsector. In the past year, budget allocations to ASM have more than doubled and hundreds of new artisanal licences have been granted. Gold-marketing centres are being established to reduce exploitation by middlemen. These are positive steps, but Kasempa shows how much more urgently needs to be done.

Three priorities stand out.

First, regularisation. Mining cannot be left to chaos. Registration of miners, simplified licensing and clear oversight are critical not only for revenue, but for safety, law enforcement and community stability.

Second, health and social protection. Every mining rush should trigger deployment of mobile clinics, clean water, sanitation and disease surveillance. Equally, social programmes must protect children, especially girls, from dropping out of school under the weight of mining-related pressures.

Third, cushioning the local economy. When demand spikes, locals should not be priced out of their own markets. Measures to stabilise food and basic goods, combined with efforts to add value locally, can prevent the economic distortion that is pushing communities further into poverty.

Kasempa is a warning. Gold can enrich lives, but without deliberate governance, it can just as easily strip them bare. If Zambia is to benefit from its mineral wealth, the state must ensure that artisanal mining does not become a story of lost childhoods, collapsing health and broken communities.

The time to act is now, before Kasempa becomes the rule rather than the exception.

Reimagining Zambia's Politics

With exactly 12 months until Zambia’s 2026 general elections, tribal politics remains a persistent force shaping the country’s democratic landscape. Despite the nation’s rich diversity of over 73 languages and ethnic groups, which should be a source of strength, political strategies that exploit ethnic identities for power have instead fostered division. Far from empowering marginalized communities, tribal politics promotes exclusion, entitlement and inefficiency. It has made people identify with their groups so strongly that they'll believe untruths — even far-fetched conspiracy theories — over any reality that conflicts with the values of their tribe. This essay argues that tribal politics must be eradicated through a commitment to unity, merit-based public office appointments and objective policy discussions. Reimagining politics in Zambia requires transcending tribal divisions to build a system where competence and shared national goals prevail over ethnic loyalties. 

Tribal politics in Zambia is driven by a complex interplay of economic, psychological, institutional and historical factors.

First, economic competition often fuels ethnic mobilization. In a resource-scarce environment like ours, different groups jostling for jobs, land and infrastructure often align along tribal lines. Recent social media posts, for example, highlight grievances from rural provinces that perceive neglect compared to urban centers like Lusaka. These disparities must be addressed through equitable, merit-based resource allocation, not through tribal favoritism. 

Second, psychological fears of domination by other ethnic groups amplify tribal identities. Scholars note that perceived threats to cultural or political influence drive groups to support tribal leaders. This dynamic has been evident in almost every general election in Zambia, where political campaigns have stoked fears of one tribe’s dominance. These divisive appeals must be replaced with objective discussions focused on national progress. Such rhetoric remains a default vote-hunting strategy for many politicians, undermining national unity

Third, weak institutions perpetuate tribalism by failing to ensure equitable resource distribution or address psychological needs for recognition. Zambia’s centralized governance system fuels perceptions of ethnic favoritism, as seen in accusations leveled against nearly all cabinet appointments. Moreover, some churches exacerbate this issue by aligning with politicians who promote tribal sentiments, undermining their role as neutral arbiters. The Penal Code’s Section 70(1), strengthened by the 2024 amendment bill, is a step toward curbing tribal hate speech and fostering institutional trust. However, its enforcement must carefully avoid stifling free speech to maintain institutional credibility.

Finally, Zambia’s colonial legacy entrenched ethnic divisions. Before colonialism, Zambian tribes lived in distinct areas with unique languages, customs, and myths. When the British arrived, their divide-and-rule tactics magnified differences, instigating conflicts over resources like water and pasture. These colonial policies sowed distrust among tribes, creating negative stereotypes that persist today. In modern Zambia, some educated elites weaponize tribalism, linking it to social status and determining access to opportunities. For example, during the 2026 campaign, politicians will be awarded pulpits to “greet the congregations,” a practice that erodes the church’s unifying role. This complicity undermines trust in both religious and political institutions.

In the present, tribalism has been weaponized by some members of the educated elite, linking it to social status and using it to determine people’s fortunes. Intellectuals on both sides of the political divide justify “ethnicity” as central to traditional culture and seek the framing of the party and state around it. Even more troubling is the role of some churches, which have aligned with politicians promoting tribal sentiments. As the 2026 general elections approach, it is common to see politicians seeking a pulpit to “greet the congregation,” a practice that undermines the church's role as a unifying force. This complicity erodes public trust in both religious and political institutions. The church is no longer trusted to be a neutral arbiter.

Eradicating tribal politics is essential for Zambia’s progress. A unified approach to resource allocation and leadership selection is critical. Transparent systems prioritizing need over tribe can dismantle ethnic patronage. For instance, infrastructure projects should target underdeveloped regions based on economic data, not political loyalty. Responsible enforcement of Section 70(1) can deter hate speech while preserving free expression. Media houses must foster objective discussions on priorities like education and infrastructure, rather than amplifying tribal grievances. The church, reclaiming its role as a moral authority, should reject tribal rhetoric and advocate for inclusive leadership.

Ultimately, appointments and jobs must prioritize qualifications and competence over tribal origin. Expecting every tribe to have a government seat is both divisive and inefficient. Instead, Zambia must build a system where talent and ideas prevail, transforming its diversity from a source of conflict into a wellspring of national strength. However, the political elite lack incentive for reform, as tribalism secures their power, leaving citizens to demand accountability.

In conclusion, tribalism in Zambia hinders democracy and socio-economic development. It persists as a channel for resources and benefits. to flow from those in power to their tribesmen, prioritizing tribal loyalty over national interest. Tribalism fuels underdevelopment, corruption, election rigging and violence. It undermines meritocracy, with unqualified individuals securing jobs based on tribe, leading to inefficient resource use. Natural resources in some regions are ignored or underutilized due to tribal biases. Bad governance thrives as tribes support their leaders blindly, while opposing tribes criticize even effective governments. Zambia’s path forward lies in fostering unity, enforcing equitable policies and prioritizing competence to harness its diversity for progress. Reimagining politics demands a collective commitment to a future where Zambia’s diversity fuels inclusive governance, not division.