By EditorZambia
PRESIDENT Hakainde Hichilema’s decision to refer the Closed Circuit Television Public Protection Bill, 2025, back to the National Assembly may frustrate those eager for swift legislative action, but it stands as a progressive and necessary intervention.
In its current form, the Bill poses a real risk of intrusion into the private lives of citizens. By withholding assent and calling for broader consultation, the President has signalled that national security cannot come at the expense of constitutional freedoms and personal privacy. 
The Bill, introduced by the Government of Zambia and shepherded through Parliament without amendment, seeks to regulate the deployment, operation, and management of CCTV systems in public and private spaces. It promises to enhance crime prevention, strengthen public safety, improve investigative efficiency, and align Zambia with regional and international standards. These are legitimate objectives. Modern cities rely on surveillance technologies to deter crime, identify suspects, and improve emergency response times.Yet the very power that makes CCTV effective also makes it dangerous when left insufficiently checked. Surveillance technology is not neutral. It collects, stores, and analyses the daily movements and interactions of ordinary citizens. Without strict safeguards, independent oversight, and clear limits on data access and retention, such systems can easily morph from tools of protection into instruments of intrusion.
President Hichilema, acting under Article 66 1 b of the Constitution, acknowledged concerns raised by stakeholders and concluded that the Bill required broader consultation before any further legislative action. That decision reflects constitutional prudence rather than executive obstruction. A law that affects every citizen’s right to privacy must be built on consensus, transparency, and robust safeguards.
History offers sobering lessons about the abuse of intrusive powers. In 2011, the 168 year old British tabloid News of the World was shut down following revelations of systemic phone hacking. The tipping point came when it was discovered that the newspaper had accessed and tampered with the voicemails of 13 year old murder victim Milly Dowler. Public outrage was swift and overwhelming. Advertisers fled. Senior executives were arrested or forced to resign. The publication closed in disgrace.
The scandal exposed more than journalistic misconduct. It demonstrated how unchecked surveillance and data intrusion, even when justified in the name of public interest or investigative zeal, can corrode institutions and violate fundamental human dignity. If a private media house could so recklessly abuse access to personal communications, how much more cautious must governments be when crafting laws that permit large- scale monitoring?
The fear of a so- called Big Brother society is not mere fiction. George Orwell’s 1984 write- up warned of a surveillance State where constant monitoring erodes privacy, autonomy, and free expression. Today’s technologies, powered by artificial intelligence, facial recognition, and vast data storage capabilities, make that dystopian vision technically feasible. Cameras mounted across cities, linked to central databases and analytic software, can track movements, identify associations, and build detailed profiles of citizens’ lives.
Without strong legal guardrails, such systems risk creating a chilling effect on free speech. When people believe they are constantly watched, they modify their behaviour. There is also the risk of data misuse and bias. Facial recognition technologies have been shown in various jurisdictions to produce discriminatory outcomes. Supporters of the Bill argue that it was crafted precisely to strike a balance between security and individual rights. The intention, they say, is responsible deployment, not authoritarian oversight. But intention alone is insufficient. The fact that the Bill passed through committee stage without amendment suggests that Parliament may not have fully grappled with the complex privacy implications involved.If Zambia is to embrace smart CCTV development and encourage investment in surveillance infrastructure, it must also invest in strong data protection frameworks. Independent regulatory bodies, clear judicial authorisation requirements for data access, strict limits on data retention, penalties for misuse, and avenues for citizen redress must be clearly defined. President Hichilema’s referral of the Bill provides an opportunity to refine it with consultation with broader consultation with civil society, technology experts, legal scholars, and human rights advocates to strengthen the legislation. The choice is not between security and privacy. It is between smart, accountable security and sweeping, unchecked surveillance. A rushed law that concentrates monitoring powers without adequate safeguards risks eroding the very freedoms it purports to defend. Once surveillance infrastructure is embedded, rolling back its scope becomes exceedingly difficult.
Zambia’s democratic journey has been defined by a commitment to constitutional governance and the protection of civil liberties. In that context, the President’s refusal to rubber stamp a contentious Bill is not a setback but a safeguard. It affirms that legislation touching on personal privacy demands the highest level of scrutiny.
In an age of rapid technological change, governments must resist the temptation to equate more data with more safety. Security built on mistrust and constant monitoring breeds anxiety and self-censorship. Security anchored in law, transparency, and respect for rights strengthens both safety and freedom.
The CCTV Public Protection Bill, 2025 may well return to Parliament in improved form. If it does, it should reflect a careful balance that protects communities from crime while shielding individuals from unwarranted intrusion.
Until then, President Hichilema’s progressive pause stands as a reminder that in a democracy, vigilance over power is the first line of defence against the quiet rise of a surveillance State.
