25/06/2025
Spiritual Fear and the Quest for Ritual Control: Why Is President Hakainde Hichilema So Desperate to Preside Over His Predecessor’s Funeral?
By Thandiwe Ketiš Ngoma
Zambia stands at a perilous crossroads, gripped by unease, suspicion, and spiritual alarm. What should have been a dignified farewell to former President Edgar Lungu has spiraled into a national crisis, one driven not by grief but by obsession. At the heart of it all is President Hakainde Hichilema’s inexplicable and relentless push to take control of Lungu’s funeral rites, despite the clear, repeated, and public rejection of his presence by the deceased’s family.
Why would a sitting president defy a dead man’s final wish? Why is this funeral, of all funerals, so vital to Hichilema?
A Funeral Hijacked
The Lungu family has been explicit: Edgar Lungu did not want Hichilema anywhere near his remains. Such a request should have been final, sacred even, and respected without question. But instead, the Zambian government has mobilized its machinery with disturbing urgency, determined to override the family’s authority and bring Lungu’s body back under state custody. The plan is a full state funeral with Hichilema at the helm.
To many Zambians, this is not protocol. This is ritual conquest.
Ritual Fear or National Duty?
A troubling theory has emerged, one rooted in the spiritual fabric of African culture and whispered quietly in homes, churches, and village gatherings. This battle may not be about honor, but about fear — spiritual fear.
According to traditional belief systems, when a death is believed to be unnatural, or when guilt is attached to the deceased’s downfall, those involved must undergo spiritual cleansing. Failure to do so invites calamity, as the spirit of the dead may seek vengeance. In this worldview, the dead are not passive. They pursue justice.
Rumors are now swirling that Hichilema and some within his circle fear they are spiritually exposed. In that fear, they are desperate to lay hands on Lungu’s body, not to honor him, but to protect themselves through ancient rites carried out in secrecy.
Could it be that a funeral being presented as a gesture of statesmanship is, in fact, a shield against spiritual retribution?
Legal Power Plays and Covert Agendas
The government’s behavior has done little to calm these fears. Legal pressure has been aggressively deployed to compel the Lungu family into submission. Behind closed doors, officials push for repatriation with uncharacteristic intensity. The family’s resistance is treated as an inconvenience rather than a right. The question must be asked: What is driving this urgency?
To many observers, the answer is chilling — ritual necessity. There is a belief that unless certain rites are performed with access to the body, misfortune or death may befall those who believe themselves at risk.
This is no longer just a burial dispute. It is a battle for spiritual control.
Transparency or Tyranny?
If this were truly about national unity and healing, why the secrecy? Why the silence? Why the total disregard for the family’s voice?
Zambians are watching a democratic government act with autocratic entitlement, replacing mourning with manipulation and grief with government force. The optics are clear: a president imposing himself on a family in mourning, overriding tradition, and rewriting the final chapter of a man he once called an enemy.
If the aim were genuine reconciliation, Hichilema would have stepped back in humility. Instead, he pushes forward like a man driven by something deeper and darker.
A Reputation in Freefall
President Hichilema’s refusal to honor a simple, sacred wish has triggered a crisis of credibility. What kind of leader insists on standing over a casket he was explicitly asked to stay away from? What kind of leadership frames coercion as respect?
Far from fostering unity, Hichilema is stoking fear, fueling the very spiritual anxieties he seeks to bury. His actions, whether politically or spiritually motivated, now risk permanently damaging the moral legitimacy of his presidency.
Conclusion: The Dead Do Not Rest Easily
This is no longer a private family affair. It is a test of the nation’s soul. The collision of spiritual tradition, political power, and cultural fear has created a national reckoning. Until the government pulls back, clarifies its intentions, and honors the wishes of the departed, Zambia will remain haunted not just by Lungu’s memory but by the questions his death has unearthed.
Because in some Zambian traditions, as in much of Africa, the dead are never truly silent. They speak through dreams, through warnings and through a unexplained events.
And in this case, the voice of the dead may be shouting louder than the will of the living.
