Hichilema’s hollow promise: Why he cannot deliver a “dignified send-off” for Edgar Chagwa Lungu
By Thandiwe Ketiš Ngoma
PRESIDENT Hakainde Hichilema (HH) wants Zambians to believe he will give his predecessor, Edgar Chagwa Lungu, a “dignified send-off.” On the surface, that sounds noble. In reality, it is an insult to the intelligence of the nation. HH’s record, and that of his allies, is not one of dignity but of calculated humiliation, both in life and now in death.
From day one, HH failed to respect the man who once sat where he now sits. At his own inauguration, while the world watched, Lungu was booed and heckled by sections of the crowd as he handed over the instruments of power. HH stood by silent, allowing the jeers to drown out the moment. That was not an accident; it was the first public signal of the disdain to come.
Now that Lungu has passed, the contempt has only grown bolder. UPND officials, party cadres, and their rogue media platforms have not mourned; they have mocked. They have treated moments tied to his death with grotesque celebration. The most shameful example came after the Attorney General’s Office won a court case in South Africa to repatriate Lungu’s body. Instead of solemn reflection, UPND-aligned figures broke into song and dance. Mbala MP Njavwa Simutowe and other surrogates posted a video, grinning and shouting “akatumbi ka leisa,” a crude and chilling insult that struck at the dignity of the late president’s memory.
“Silence in the face of mockery is not neutrality. It is complicity.”
HH’s response? Nothing. No condemnation. No call for restraint. No reminder that even political rivals deserve respect in death. His silence is not innocence; it is consent.
The Lungu family, through counsel Makebi Zulu, have made their position crystal clear: the late president did not want HH near his remains or presiding over his funeral. Any leader with an ounce of humility would have honoured those wishes. HH has done the opposite. Hiding behind the label of a “state funeral,” he has chosen to bulldoze over the will of the deceased and his family.
Worse, he dragged the grieving family to court in South Africa, the very place Lungu had gone seeking medical care before he died. The family, fearing HH would hijack the funeral, made the painful decision to bury their loved one there. HH responded not with compassion, but with legal warfare.
Would the dignity of the occasion vanish if HH delegated the duty to his Vice President or a senior minister? Of course not. His insistence on presiding, despite knowing his presence is unwelcome, reeks of ego and political theatre. To many, it smacks not of honour but of something darker — what Zambians bluntly call “smelling of witchcraft.”
The family has now appealed to the Supreme Court in South Africa to bury their loved one in peace, away from HH’s unwanted presence and away from the cameras of political opportunism.
A truly dignified send-off is not about who gets the spotlight, who stands at the podium, or who appears in the photographs. It is about humility, respect, and honouring the wishes of the deceased. HH has displayed none of these qualities. In life, he stood by as Lungu was ridiculed. In death, he has allowed and perhaps even encouraged his allies to degrade his memory.
Until HH stops his surrogates, silences the chants of mockery, and learns that leadership sometimes means stepping back, his words about “dignity” will remain what they are now: empty, hypocritical, and dripping with political spite.
Zambia deserved better. And so did Edgar Chagwa Lungu.
