The Last Dance of ECL – A Race Well Run

By Amb. Anthony Mukwita— Mukwita on Point

The Daily Nation on Friday.

On 5 June 2025, a dark pall descended upon Zambia. Word filtered through from Pretoria that Edgar Chagwa Lungu—our sixth Republican President—had breathed his last.

By his bedside was his devoted wife and lifelong friend, Madam Esther Nyawa Lungu, who had only just marked her birthday three days earlier. It was a moment of profound sorrow.

At 68, President Lungu was more than a politician—he was a husband, a father, a friend to many, and a quiet unifier of a divided land.

Like millions of Zambians, I mourn. But I also carry the heavy privilege of mourning a man I knew personally for over two decades.

From my early days as a young journalist, through to my time as a diplomat appointed by his hand to represent Zambia in Stockholm and Berlin, I bore witness to his warmth, his humour, and his deeply empathetic heart.

I often wonder what he saw in me—why he took me under his wing like a broken bird and never let go.

But I thank God he did. In our many long, candid conversations—some at odd hours—I encountered not just a President, but a priestly soul, always willing to listen, forgive, guide, and pray with you.

President Lungu was a man of deep compassion, perhaps shaped by his own humble beginnings as the son of Ranger Padule Saili Lungu and Madam Tasila, born in Ndola Central Hospital.

When a Catholic priest di£d in Austria and needed help returning home, I placed a call to the President. Within hours, the support was in place—quietly, swiftly, without fanfare. He had a heart that hurt when others hurt.

I often wonder what he saw in me—why he took me under his wing like a broken bird and never let go.

But I thank God he did. In our many long, candid conversations—some at odd hours—I encountered not just a President, but a priestly soul, always willing to listen, forgive, guide, and pray with you.

President Lungu was a man of deep compassion, perhaps shaped by his own humble beginnings as the son of Ranger Padule Saili Lungu and Madam Tasila, born in Ndola Central Hospital.

When a Catholic priest died in Austria and needed help returning home, I placed a call to the President. Within hours, the support was in place—quietly, swiftly, without fanfare. He had a heart that hurt when others hurt.

That spirit birthed Against All Odds, the first and only official biography of President Lungu, which I was honoured to write. He told me simply, “Yes ba Tony—write. We need to challenge you guys to start writing, lets tell our own Zambian story.”

Through that book, his desire to be remembered as “an ordinary man who became President” came alive—a man who demystified leadership and inspired possibility.

I remember once, while driving from Prague to Berlin, my son Lubinda answered a call on my behalf. “Sorry Dad is driving, sir, please call back later,” he said.

When I asked who it was, he replied, “Just the President.” Later, ECL laughed it off: “Your son was right—you can’t drive and talk.” That was him—always humane, always grounding the mighty in the everyday.

Lunch with him felt less like a state duty and more like catching up with a favourite uncle.

He had flaws like any man, but his empathy and humility overwhelmed them. Even in political turbulence after his presidency, what endured in him was kindness—not bitterness.

As you read this, we stand on the eve of laying him to eternal rest. The man who built roads, airports, and unity—now makes his final journey. Zambia mourns a father; heaven gains a gentle soul.

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Lessons from the Exit of ECL
On 10 June, I read with interest that President Cyril Ramaphosa of South Africa—where President Lungu passed—was calling for a National Dialogue to reconcile a divided nation. “Poverty, unemployment and inequality are deep wounds,” Ramaphosa said.

I couldn’t help but think: is this not also the Zambia we now face?
In our own hour of grief and division, could we not borrow a page from South Africa? Is it not time to consider a ‘Zambia National Dialogue’—one that brings together all stripes of our nation to heal, reconcile and chart a new path?

I have long advocated for dialogue, whether in Palestine-Israel, Ukraine-Russia, or right here at home. Not because it is easy or popular—but because peace is always the harder, nobler choice. C0nflict is a zero-sum game; nobody truly wins.

As we mourn ECL, we must also ask: how do we honour him? Not just with flags and funerals, but with a commitment to unity. That’s why I believe, like my big brother KBF, that now is the time for the Church to take the lead—impartially, prayerfully—and bring together all parties.

Calm hearts on both sides, lay down the arms and make love.

The state must sit down with Madam Esther Lungu, a woman beloved by millions. Her grief deserves our respect. There is room, in this fragile moment, for sincere apologies, reconciliatory gestures, and the beginning of something redemptive.

We are not too proud to learn from South Africa. President Hichilema—the Don H—has the power and moral authority to lead this effort. A national roundtable is not weakness. It is wisdom.

President Lungu was a man of peace. Let us bury him in peace.

And in doing so, may we resurrect the spirit of national unity he tried so hard to uphold.

Long live the memory of Edgar Chagwa Lungu. May his last dance inspire our first steps toward healing.
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Ambassador Anthony Mukwita is a published author, international relations analyst, and author of Against All Odds: President Edgar Lungu’s Rough Journey to State House.