The Editor Zambia
The statement by Brian Mundubile that he aspires to rule Zambia in the mould of Edgar Lungu is not just politically tone deaf but a stark reminder of a past that many Zambians decisively rejected at the ballot box in 2021.
To openly admire and seek to replicate Lungu’s leadership is to endorse a period widely associated with unrestrained corruption, economic collapse, rampant cadrerism, and the breakdown of law and order. 
It is to romanticise a failed era that pushed Zambia to the edge of becoming a dysfunctional State.
Zambians do not suffer from historical amnesia. The Lungu years are still fresh in the national memory. This was a time when public institutions were weakened, governance became increasingly personalised, and the rule of law was often subordinated to political expediency.
The infamous ci-Bemba phrase “ubomba mwibala alya mwibala” became a symbol of a culture where public office was seen less as a platform for service and more as an opportunity for personal enrichment.
Whether defended or condemned, the damage it did to public trust was undeniable.
Equally troubling was the entrenched system of cadrerism that flourished under Lungu’s watch. Party loyalists like Bowman Lusambo, Kaizer Zulu, and Kennedy Kamba operated with impunity, often overriding State authority, harassing citizens, and turning public spaces into zones of political control.
Markets, bus stations, and even government institutions became extensions of party structures. This was not good governance but organised disorder.
The economic record speaks for itself. Zambia defaulted on its debt, inflation soared, the cost of living spiralled beyond the reach of ordinary citizens, and investor confidence plummeted.
Mismanagement, coupled with opaque financial decisions, left the economy fragile and vulnerable.
By the time Zambians went to the polls, the verdict was clear and decisive. The Patriotic Front (PF) was rejected not out of spite but out of necessity.
It is within this context that Mundubile’s remarks become deeply concerning. Leadership is not about nostalgia for power but about learning from past failures. To suggest a return to Lungu style governance is to ignore the very reasons that led to the PF’s downfall.
The PF itself, as a political entity, has never fully come to terms with its own history. From its origins, the party struggled to build a coherent national identity.
What emerged instead was a coalition of factions bound together not by ideology but by access to State power.
Under Michael Sata, the PF thrived on charisma and populism. But beneath the surface, structural weaknesses remained unresolved.
When Lungu took over, those weaknesses deepened. The party became a battleground of competing camps, each pursuing its own interests. Figures like Miles Sampa, Chishimba Kambwili, and others led factions that often operated at cross purposes. Loyalty shifted not to the party but to individuals and the resources they controlled.
This fragmentation gave rise to the corruption and cadre violence that ultimately defined the PF’s time in office. It was not an accident but the natural consequence of a party without a unifying ideology or ethical framework.
Today, in opposition, those same fault lines have only widened. The PF is no longer held together by the glue of State resources.
What remains is a fractured organisation struggling to redefine itself. Internal disputes, leadership wrangles, and factional battles continue to dominate its politics.
Against this backdrop, Mundubile’s admiration for Lungu is not just misplaced but politically reckless and shows that he has no vision of his own to rule Zambia.
Zambia is not looking backward. It is trying, however, imperfectly, to move forward under the leadership of President Hakainde Hichilema, whose administration has focused on restoring economic stability, rebuilding institutions, and re-establishing international credibility.
This is not to suggest that the current government is without challenges. But there is a clear difference between attempting reform and celebrating regression.
Mundubile’s statement falls squarely in the latter category.
Even the controversies that surrounded Lungu’s personal conduct, including persistent public debate about his alleged fondness for alcohol such as Jameson whiskey, became part of a broader narrative about leadership standards.
The symbolism of the so-called “kasaka kandalama” further reinforced the image of a leadership detached from the struggles of ordinary citizens. In a country grappling with poverty and inequality, such imagery was politically damaging and socially divisive.
To now suggest that Zambia should revisit that chapter is to disregard the sacrifices made by citizens who demanded change.
It is to ignore the lessons of history and to risk repeating the same mistakes.
Zambia’s democratic journey has been defined by its ability to correct itself. The 2021 election was one such correction. It was a clear rejection of a system that had lost its way.
Mundubile must therefore be reminded that leadership is not about emulating failure but about offering a credible alternative.
If the PF hopes to regain relevance, it must confront its past honestly, abandon the politics of patronage, and articulate a vision rooted in accountability and national unity.
Anything less is not just inadequate but an insult to a nation that has already chosen a different path.
