On March 8, 2025, as Zambia celebrated Women’s Day in Kasama, Northern province, Zambia, President Hakainde Hichilema dropped a political bombshell: the nation’s constitution, he declared, would be amended before the 2026 general elections.
Four days later, addressing youth day commemorations in Mongu, Western Province, Zambia, he doubled down, promising changes to the constitution to boost representation and fix electoral “gaps.”
Today Zambia finds itself in the throes of a fierce debate, one that pits the promise of progress against the specter of power plays. This is not just a legal tussle; it’s a reckoning with Zambia’s democratic soul, shaped by its past and shadowed by its future.
A Constitution in Flux: Lessons from History
Zambia’s constitutional journey has been anything but smooth. Since shedding one-party rule in 1991, the country has wrestled with its foundational document through multiple revisions, most notably in 2003, 2011, and 2016. The 2016 Constitution, born from years of consultation, introduced reforms like the “50% + 1” presidential vote threshold and a running mate clause.
Yet, it also left unresolved tensions: costly by-elections and ambiguous delimitation processes, which have long irked lawmakers and citizens alike. Hichilema’s push for change taps into this frustration, but it also revives memories of past failures; like Edgar Lungu’s ill-fated Bill 10 in 2020, which collapsed amid accusations of self-interest.
The president’s case rests on urgency. He warns of “lacunae” that could snarl the 2026 polls, potentially delaying democracy itself. Proportional representation, youth quotas, and streamlined elections are among his touted fixes. But his vagueness, coupled with the assertion that “we have agreed”, has left Zambians asking: agreed with whom? In a nation where trust in leaders is hard-earned, this opacity is a spark in a tinderbox.
The Voices of Dissent: Guardians or Gatekeepers?
Opposition leaders have wasted no time crying foul. Sean Tembo of the Tonse Alliance accuses Hichilema of a “solo crusade,” while Saboi Imboela of the United Kwacha Alliance (UKA) paints him as a dictator-in-waiting. Edgar Lungu, now a vocal critic, calls it a “power grab”, a charge rich with irony given his own constitutional misadventures. Their collective fear: amendments could extend Hichilema’s term, tweak electoral rules, or weaken checks on executive power, all under the guise of reform.
Yet, the opposition’s stance isn’t without its own contradictions. Many of these leaders once championed constitutional tweaks when it suited them. Are they now defending democracy, or merely their own relevance? Their outrage, while resonant, risks being drowned out by a lack of concrete alternatives, a gap that weakens their moral high ground.
Civil society, meanwhile, offers a steadier critique. On March 13, 2025, 14 organizations, led by the Zambia Council for Social Development, rejected Hichilema’s timeline. “A constitution isn’t a memo to be rushed,” said ZCSD’s Leah Mitaba, urging a post-2026 process rooted in national dialogue. Their call echoes Zambia’s 2016 success, when broad input birthed a document, flawed though it was; that most could claim as their own.
The Government’s Gambit: Vision or Vulnerability?
Hichilema’s allies insist this is no power grab but a bold step forward. Justice Minister Princess Kasune has hailed the president’s resolve, promising inclusivity. The ruling party; UPND’s Mark Simuuwe points to practical fixes: why, he asks, should a by-election in one constituency cost millions when a proportional system could save resources? State House’s Clayson Hamasaka adds that consultations, however invisible to critics, have already laid the groundwork.
Yet, the administration’s credibility is on trial. Hichilema’s UPND holds 93 seats in a 167-member parliament, short of the two-thirds majority needed for amendments. Without opposition buy-in, the plan is dead on arrival, a reality that demands negotiation, not proclamation. The government’s recent track record, from abrupt currency changes to opaque cybersecurity laws, only deepens public wariness. If this is a vision for progress, it’s one that must prove its sincerity beyond party lines.
A Defining Moment
Hichilema stands at a crossroads. Push too hard, and he risks alienating a nation still healing from past divisions. Pause and listen, and he might forge a legacy as a unifier. The path to 2026 offers no shortcuts: a transparent, inclusive process, perhaps a national convention, could turn skepticism into support. Fail that, and Zambia may face not just a stalled amendment but a fractured trust.
This debate is bigger than one man or one election. It’s about whether Zambia can rewrite its rules without unraveling its democratic thread. As the dust settles on Hichilema’s announcement, the question lingers: will this be a moment of reform, a clash of rivalries, or a reckoning with the past? The answer lies not in State House, but in the hands of Zambians willing to demand a say.
Kalumbu Lumpa is a media practitioner in Zambia. He writes in his personal capacity.
