By EditorZambia
The much-publicised Oasis Forum–led prayer rally at the Cathedral of the Child Jesus in Lusaka which was marketed as a solemn moment of national spiritual reflection, ended up confirming what many Zambians already suspected, that this was a political convergence masquerading as a holy convocation.
Beneath the hymns, the scripture readings, and the choreographed solemnity were a forceful undercurrent of political mobilisation, carefully disguised as intercession. 
It was, in essence, a coalition united not by faith but by a mutual hostility toward President Hakainde Hichilema and his administration.
While the organisers framed the event as a spiritual substitute for the postponed protest march against Bill 7, it was clear from the outset that their objective had barely shifted.
The podium became a confessional for political frustrations; the pews, a rally ground.
The prayers, if they could be called that, were thin veils draped over a coalition intent on signalling defiance under the cloak of ecclesiastical authority.
The Oasis Forum, a consortium comprising the Law Association of Zambia (LAZ), the Non-Governmental Organizations Coordinating Council (NGOCC), the Evangelical Fellowship of Zambia (EFZ), the Council of Churches in Zambia (CCZ), and the Zambia Conference of Catholic Bishops (ZCCB), insisted that the shift from a march to a prayer meeting represented a spiritual elevation of national dialogue.
But a discerning citizen could see through the incense and liturgical posturing. The tone of the gathering, the speakers invited, and the language used all pointed to an unmistakable political undercurrent.
The event opened with LAZ president Lungisani Zulu, whose political sympathies have never been a secret. His references to “Black Friday expectation” were framed as spiritual metaphor, but his language mirrored typical political campaign rhetoric—hope, anticipation, a “moment of destiny.” This did not strike the tone of prayerful intercession; it struck the tone of a mobilisation strategy.
Next came Brenda Katebe, head of the NGOCC, whose remarks were positioned as civic activism but carried unmistakable opposition political talking points.
Her insistence that “the Constitution belongs to the people” is true in principle, but the phrasing of her messaging, its timing, and her emphasis on political detachment felt disingenuous in an environment dominated by political insinuation.
The Constitution became less of a sacred document and more of a prop around which political agitation was being sanctified.
But perhaps the most glaring politicisation came in the form of the clergy themselves.
Bishop William Kalula opened with a prayer but swiftly pivoted to referencing the late former President Edgar Lungu, a move that subtly reframed the event as both memorial and political lament.
It was a calculated insertion. At a moment meant for prayer, the bishop drew on the image of Lungu, a highly polarising political figure, and injected nostalgia into a gathering already fraught with anti-government sentiment.
Scriptural readings from Isaiah and Micah were delivered with the tone of political commentary—“unjust laws,” “rejecting oppression,” “acting justly”—phrases that, in a purely spiritual context, would be uncontroversial. But set against the backdrop of Bill 7 and the composition of the crowd, they were unmistakably curated to send a message to the sitting government, not to God.
A senior cleric went further, drawing a contrast between the unity seen during Pope John Paul II’s 1989 visit, decades earlier and what he described as “fear, frustration, tension, mistrust, and tribal undertones” in today’s Zambia.
But the irony was hard to miss: the very event where he delivered this lament had become a crucible for those same tensions, manufactured or magnified by groups with political grievances.
The Oasis Forum insists that its role is to safeguard constitutionalism and the rule of law. On paper, that is noble. But in practice, what the country witnessed at the Cathedral of the Child Jesus was not a unifying prayer rally; it was a coordinated political assembly, featuring politicians, activists, and clerics whose shared platform was less about divine intervention and more about political leverage.
Even Rev. Walter Mwambazi, a respected clergy member known for moderation, remarked bluntly afterwards on his Facebook page that the event looked “more like an opposition party gathering” than a prayer meeting.
This raises a deeper question: When did the church allow itself to become a tool for partisan agitation?
Unfortunately, Zambia has seen this playbook before. Frederick Chiluba, who declared Zambia a Christian nation, stands as the earliest and clearest example of a politician exploiting religious sentiment for political gain.
His declaration was made at a time when his own personal life was in turmoil, faced with marital problems, and during a period marred by corruption allegations and plunder of national resources.
His public persona preached Christianity; his conduct betrayed it. Yet he successfully weaponised faith as a political shield.
Years later, late 6th President Edgar Lungu resurrected the same tactic with his announcement of the construction of the House of Prayer. The timing, the fanfare, and the political theatrics surrounding it were unmistakably designed to entrench himself as a “godly leader,” even as governance concerns, corruption scandals, and economic decline mounted.
The House of Prayer project became a symbol not of faith but of political distraction, a sanctuary of convenience rather than conviction.
What unfolded yesterday bears the imprint of these earlier manipulations.
Clergy and civil society leaders, once guardians of moral neutrality, have become comfortable wielding prayer as a political weapon.
They speak of unity, yet foster division; they call for justice yet align themselves with political actors whose motives are rooted in bitterness, not nation-building.
The Oasis Forum and its partners insist that their actions stem from spiritual duty and civic responsibility. But Zambia must now ask: When spiritual platforms become political theatres, who benefits? And who is being misled?
What the nation witnessed was not a prayer rally but a strategically choreographed political gathering draped in sanctimonious robes.
A gathering where political actors found refuge behind pulpits and where prayers became talking points in a broader crusade against the sitting President.
Zambia deserves honest debate, principled constitutional dialogue, and sincere prayer. But it also deserves truth: yesterday’s event was political to the core—carefully staged, cleverly disguised, and unmistakably motivated by a united hostility toward President Hakainde Hichilema.
Faith should guide the nation. It should never be weaponised to mislead it.
