Don't Let Lungu's Burial Bury His Legacy
By Kapya Kaoma
When I heard that former President Edgar Lungu’s final wish was for President Hakainde Hichilema not to attend his funeral, my heart sank. Zambia is in mourning—not only for a former head of state, but for national unity. Instead, Lungu’s burial risks becoming another political battleground.
My prayerful appeal—especially to the Lungu family and the Patriotic Front (PF)—is this, “Do not let the bitterness of his final years bury the dignity of his legacy.”
In life, it’s often the final acts we remember most. In African culture, funerals can speak louder than a lifetime of public service. We must not allow the drama surrounding President Lungu’s burial to eclipse the memory of his immense contributions. He deserves to be remembered as the first Zambian president to meaningfully invest in national infrastructure. Whether future leaders will match his achievements remains to be seen.
To the Lungu family and PF faithful, I hear your pain. The wounds of political persecution, public vilification, and official silence are still fresh. But pain, when carried with dignity, can be transformative. Sometimes, offering an olive branch in your lowest moment isn’t weakness—it’s the highest form of strength.
Ironically, this funeral places President Hichilema and the UPND in a moral and political bind. If he offers praise, critics may call it “lies”—ahead of 2026. So why not let him face that discomfort publicly? Let the presence of mourning Zambians—grateful, grieving, and proud of Lungu—speak louder than any speech. Let Hichilema see, firsthand, the love people still carry for the man he once mocked and insulted. Let their silent tears become a moral rebuke and a great lesson all of us–leadership is appreciated by the ruled.
In many ways, the PF and the Lungu family now hold the moral high ground. Allowing President Hichilema to attend the funeral would not excuse his actions—it would expose them. It would say, with grace and resolve, “We are better than what was done to us. We are still here.”
I don’t want to excuse President Hichilema. He failed to treat his predecessor with the respect due a former head of state. But if we descend into tit-for-tat politics, we become the mirror image of what we claim to oppose.
I believe there is still time. Still time for the Lungus to reconsider their position. Still time for PF leaders to counsel from wisdom, not anger. There is, of course, still time for Zambians—regardless of party—to choose dignity, sympathy and unity over divisions.
Let’s avoid judging the Lungus too harshly. They are grieving a man who, despite public humiliation, remained committed to peace and democracy. They carry a burden of injustice. Perhaps, now is the time to lay that burden at the altar of national unity. Yet only God can give the grace to do it. Indeed, grace, when embraced, can change hearts.
It is important to note that President Hichilema would attend not as a friend, but as head of state. When Hichilema was inaugurated in 2021, President Lungu showed up—not out of admiration, but in respect for the people’s will. He stood with quiet dignity, even as he was mocked. He acknowledged Hichilema as Zambia’s president, despite never receiving the same recognition in return.
That selfless act of humility should likewise drive the HH administration to rise above partisanship—and perhaps even to apologize. Hichilema needs to hear the pain of the Lungu family. This is time to say, “I got it wrong. I am sorry.” Those aren’t words of weakness, but great marks of true leadership.
I would love to remember Edgar Lungu as a man of the people—humble, pragmatic, and relatable. His memory must not be erased by political vindictiveness over his burial. We cannot let today’s anger rewrite yesterday’s truth.
To the Lungus, may God comfort your hearts, and provide the strength to heal.
To the President and his administration, may you find the humility to listen—not only to criticism, but to the grief of the mourning family.
It is said, two wrongs don’t make a right. But grace in the face of grief? That can make history.