In the grand chessboard of African politics, where strategy and perception dictate the flow of power, Chomba Kaoma presents an analysis that speaks not only to the immediate realities of Zambia’s by-elections but to the larger lessons of governance and electoral cycles. His observations expose a recurring illusion—the belief that success in by-elections is a reliable measure of national political strength. The history of Zambian politics has shown that this assumption is dangerously misleading.
One cannot help but recall the confidence with which the Patriotic Front (PF) once marched through by-elections, winning 25 out of 29 during its seven years in power. The victories were celebrated as evidence of an unshakable grip on the electorate, as proof that the opposition was weak and divided. PF won seats in opposition strongholds like Chilanga, Mangango, and Livingstone Central, sending the message that it was expanding beyond its traditional base. However, what followed in the 2021 general elections was a dramatic collapse, with the party losing all those seats and many more by overwhelming margins.
This historical parallel should serve as a warning to the ruling United Party for National Development (UPND), which now finds itself in a similar position of electoral comfort. By-election wins are being interpreted as a sign of growing support, but a closer look at history suggests otherwise. By-elections are fought under vastly different conditions from general elections. They are localized contests where the full machinery of the state can be deployed in a concentrated manner, with resources, government influence, and ruling party candidates benefiting from the administrative advantage of incumbency. The electorate is much smaller, and voter turnout is often low, making them more susceptible to short-term factors such as handouts and temporary appeasement strategies.
A general election, on the other hand, is a completely different battlefield. It is a moment of national reckoning where the electorate expands to millions of voters, and every citizen has a stake in shaping the country’s future. It is a time when politicians can no longer rely on selective mobilization; they must face the full weight of public scrutiny. The advantages of incumbency diminish when the entire nation is voting at once, and the cumulative grievances of the people come to the surface. The electorate is not just looking at what a party has done in a single constituency but at the overall state of governance, the economy, and the well-being of the nation.
The PF’s downfall in 2021 was not due to by-election miscalculations but to a broader sense of discontent that had been building up over time. Even in areas where the party had won by-elections, voters ultimately turned against them when given the full democratic choice. This pattern is not unique to Zambia; it has been seen across Africa and the world. The most politically fatal mistake a ruling party can make is to assume that temporary victories indicate long-term dominance.
Chomba Kaoma’s analysis also highlights the role of internal party dynamics in shaping electoral outcomes. He rightly points out that a ruling party’s greatest vulnerability is often within its own ranks. Disloyal members, poor candidate selection, and internal conflicts are some of the biggest threats to any party’s stability. The history of Zambia’s political transitions is filled with instances where ruling parties were weakened not just by opposition forces but by fractures within their own structures. The opposition, meanwhile, has often gained ground not by winning over ruling party supporters directly, but by capitalizing on these internal weaknesses.
In this regard, the strategy he suggests is a shrewd one. Instead of merely focusing on opposition strongholds, the ruling party must address its internal challenges by ensuring that it places strong, loyal candidates in key areas. Conversely, the opposition must recognize that its best opportunity lies in targeting those areas where ruling party candidates have failed to deliver. Funding credible candidates in these regions and strategically supporting independent voices could be a more effective approach than direct confrontation in government strongholds.
One of the most striking observations in Kaoma’s analysis is the notion that politicians should not mistake the ‘system’ for a guaranteed ticket to victory. A general election is fundamentally different from a by-election because, at that moment, every politician is accountable to the people. There is no centralized distribution of resources to sway smaller voter blocs, no selective deployment of campaign machinery; there is only the raw, unfiltered judgment of the electorate.
In this sense, the cautionary tale of PF in 2021 should be carefully studied by the UPND today. There is a real danger in assuming that recent by-election victories are proof of an unbreakable hold on power. As Kaoma points out, even the PF’s efforts to co-opt opposition MPs through ministerial positions did not save them from electoral collapse. The people do not forget broken promises, rising costs of living, or economic struggles simply because of a temporary influx of campaign resources in a by-election.
The real battle for 2026 has not yet begun. Those who celebrate too early often end up mourning when the final results are tallied. Politics is not a game of immediate returns; it is a long-term contest of strategy, credibility, and public trust. Those in power today must not allow the comfort of by-election victories to lull them into complacency, just as those in opposition must not assume that isolated wins mean they have already reclaimed the nation’s favor.
African wisdom teaches that a wise hunter does not celebrate upon seeing an animal’s footprints—he waits until the beast is truly captured. The real test of political strength does not come in scattered by-elections; it comes when the entire nation speaks with one voice. Those who understand this will prepare accordingly. Those who do not will wake up to a reality they never saw coming.
