Frozen by power, not curse: Who is really blocking Lungu’s burial?
Respect the dead, respect the family: A response to Rev Walter Mwambazi on Dr Edgar Chagwa Lungu

By Thandiwe Ketiš Ngoma
WITH respect, your article on Dr Edgar Chagwa Lungu’s body remaining in a freezer eight months after his death is emotionally charged yet fundamentally dishonest by omission.
You distribute blame to “both sides,” invoke curses, karma, pride, and cultural decay, but you carefully avoid naming the single most powerful actor who has actively escalated this matter: President Hakainde Hichilema. That silence is not accidental. It is revealing.
Let us dispense with emotion and superstition and deal with facts, law, and responsibility.
At the time of his death, Dr Edgar Chagwa Lungu was a private citizen in both law and practice. Upon his return to active politics in 2024, the Government of the Republic of Zambia, by law, stripped him of all benefits accorded to a former Head of State. This was not symbolic. It was a legal and administrative act with clear consequences.
Accordingly, Dr Lungu travelled to South Africa for medical treatment as a private citizen, funded privately, entirely outside the care, authority, or custody of the Zambian state.
Even more importantly, Dr Lungu left explicit instructions regarding his burial. He stated unambiguously that in the event of his death, he wished to be buried as a private citizen.
However, should the Government of Zambia choose to accord him a state funeral, he further instructed that his successor, President Hakainde Hichilema, should not be anywhere near his remains nor preside over his funeral.
These wishes were formally communicated to the government.
This is where the matter becomes deeply troubling.
A state funeral is not the personal property of a sitting President. There is no constitutional, legal, or procedural requirement that the President must preside over it. The President may delegate, as has been done before, without scandal, without drama, and without violating dignity.
So the question that must be asked — and which your article carefully avoids — is this:
Why does President Hakainde Hichilema insist on presiding over a funeral where his presence is explicitly not welcome?
What principle is being defended here?
What national interest is served by overriding the wishes of the deceased and trampling on the grief of his family?
When the Lungu family realised that President Hichilema intended to impose himself regardless of those wishes, they made a lawful and humane decision to bury Dr Lungu in South Africa instead of Zambia, despite earlier preparations for repatriation.
Arrangements were underway when, shockingly, President Hakainde Hichilema caused the grieving family to be taken to court, securing an injunction that stopped the burial.
Let us call this by its proper name.
This is not “both sides squabbling.”
This is state power being wielded against a widow and children.
You ask, “Do his relatives even care?”
That question is not only offensive — it is cruel.
What family would willingly endure prolonged grief, public vilification, and legal warfare unless they were defending something sacred — the clearly stated final wishes of their husband and father?
If this were truly about dignity, unity, and African values, the clearest and loudest call would be this:
The President must step back. Respect the dead. Respect the family. Respect the limits of state power.
Instead, you spiritualise a political problem. Mystify what is, in truth, painfully simple.
This body is not unburied because of a curse.
It is unburied because the State refuses to release its grip.
And here lies the deepest irony of all.
You lament African customs while excusing one of the most un-African acts imaginable — a government forcing itself into burial rites against the express wishes of both the deceased and his family.
Where in our traditions does this exist?
Where in our humanity does this belong?
Yes, eight months is unacceptable.
Yes, it is painful.
Yes, it is a national embarrassment.
But responsibility follows power, and the greatest power in this saga does not lie with a grieving family.
Until commentators like you find the courage to say plainly:
“Mr President, this is not your place,” your outrage will remain selective and hollow.
Respect for the dead begins with respecting their wishes.
Anything else is not justice — it is dominance dressed up as concern.
VACHILAMO — BUT TRUTH MUST LIVE TOO





















