When I first read the headline, “Changing Governments Is Not, In Itself, A Solution To Poverty,” at Lusaka Times, I assumed it was mere satire. It wasn’t. It came from Leslie Chikuse, the self-styled president of the Republican Progressive Party, agreeing with Vice President Mutale Nalumango’s remarks at the Regional Poverty Reduction and Climate Resilience Conference.

I have spent my academic life studying the intersections of governance, corruption, and climate justice. In “God’s Family, God’s Earth,” I argue that corruption isn’t a marginal concern—it’s the systemic rot at the heart of both poverty and ecological collapse. This isn’t abstract theory. It’s a lived Zambian reality, where poverty and environmental degradation are not parallel crises but interconnected.

Take charcoal burning, for example. One cannot discuss its environmental toll without engaging the economic plight of those who rely on it. The rural poor cut and sell; the urban poor buy and cook. Meanwhile, load shedding drives demand. This vicious cycle is not just ecological—it is political. You cannot solve Zambia’s climate vulnerabilities without addressing the poverty that makes them inescapable.

Which brings me to the center of the Vice President’s misleading claim. Poverty is not apolitical. To pretend otherwise is to insult both scholarship and lived experience. Throughout history, political leadership and poverty have been entangled. Governance either disrupts poverty or entrenches it. Here, who governs matters. In this case, poverty eradication (not just reduction) is not ideologically neutral. It is shaped by policy—and policy is shaped by power.

Consider President Hakainde Hichilema’s decision to open the Lower Zambezi to mining. This was not a technocratic decision; it was political. The ecological and social repercussions will be felt for generations. Ask the people of the Gwembe Valley. They are still living with the anthropological insults of the late 1950s when the Kariba Dam was built.

Poverty is about fairness, too. Why are marketeers—overwhelmingly poor women—subject to daily local government taxes, while elite traders in emeralds, gold, and other precious stones enjoy tax holidays? Why do foreign investors receive generous incentives that local businesses are denied? And why do our politicians get “tax-free this and that”? These are not economic accidents; they are deliberate political choices. They expose whose interests the government protects, and whose it abandons.

So yes, political transitions matter. Governments campaign on concrete promises to fix roads, create jobs, and end poverty. If changing leadership had no bearing on poverty, why hold elections? Leadership change alone won’t fix everything—but it is the first step to ending poverty.

I feel for the Vice President’s bind. With 2026 approaching, perhaps she’s managing expectations. But in doing so, she alerts us to the problem. If we continue treating politics as a popularity contest, changing parties will not change outcomes.

I believe Zambia doesn’t just need a new president. We need a new political culture. We must dismantle the ‘ngatwesheko” mindset—the dangerous belief that anyone deserves the presidency simply because it’s “their turn.” You wouldn’t hand the car keys to someone blindfolded, no matter how many times you change the driver. Visionless leadership, no matter how often rotated, will only reproduce failure.

So let us be vigilant. Ask the hard questions. Demand concrete plans. If a candidate cannot clearly articulate a strategy during their campaign, what makes us think they will lead effectively once in office?

Is BaShiPromise Hichilema, alongside BaNaPromise Nalumango, not already proof of the cost of vague rhetoric over visionary leadership?

It is time to stop gambling with our national future. Poverty is not simply a developmental challenge—it is a failure of leadership. Unless we confront it head-on, the slogans may change, but our Poverty will not.
Kapya Kaoma