By EditorZambia
The so-called Kapingila Declaration, in which a group of self-styled elders openly lobby for opposition unity with the clear objective of removing President Hakainde Hichilema, raises troubling questions about fairness, consistency, and motive in Zambia’s public discourse.
While political competition is healthy in a democracy, it becomes problematic when individuals claiming moral authority abandon neutrality and insert themselves into partisan battles that properly belong to opposition political parties. 
At the heart of the matter is a simple question: is it the role of elders to campaign, directly or indirectly, for regime change? Traditionally, elders in African societies are expected to act as custodians of wisdom, conscience, and balance. They are meant to calm political tempers, not inflame them; to speak truth to power consistently, not selectively; and to defend national cohesion, not advance narrow political agendas.
By convening at Kapingila House, a citadel of opposition in recent times and producing a resolution that reads like an opposition manifesto, these elders have crossed a critical line.
Opposition unity is, by definition, the work of the opposition. Political parties that disagree with the ruling United Party for National Development (UPND) are free and indeed entitled to organise, strategise, and present alternative visions to the electorate. That is the essence of multiparty democracy. What is troubling is the attempt to cloak this partisan exercise in the robes of elder statesmanship, as if the call carries a higher moral legitimacy than ordinary political mobilisation. It does not.
Even more glaring is the selective silence of these elders during the decade of Edgar Lungu’s presidency. Where were the urgent declarations when unbridled corruption became normalised, when public debt ballooned to unsustainable levels, when tribalism seeped into state institutions, and when cadreism terrorised markets, bus stations, and public spaces? Where was the moral outrage when citizens were brutalised, dissent was criminalised, and the rule of law was openly mocked?
If ever there was a moment when an elder-led national intervention could have been justified, it was during that dark chapter. Yet the loud voices we hear today were either muted or completely absent then. This inconsistency severely undermines their credibility. Moral authority cannot be switched on and off depending on who occupies State House.
The timing of the Kapingila Declaration also invites suspicion. President Hichilema’s administration, barely halfway through its mandate, has recorded tangible achievements in economic stabilisation, debt restructuring, restoration of the rule of law, and the re-opening of democratic space. International confidence has been restored, investors have returned, and Zambia has re-engaged the world as a respected partner. These are not imagined gains; they are measurable outcomes of policy choices and governance reforms.
Yet the declaration is curiously blind to these achievements. Instead, it speaks of “national restoration” as if Zambia were still in the depths of crisis, ignoring the very restoration already underway. This selective blindness feeds the perception that the initiative is not driven by objective national interest, but by deep-seated political and regional biases.
It is impossible to ignore the undercurrent of Tongaphobia that has increasingly characterised attacks on President Hichilema. Criticism of any leader is legitimate, but when opposition to a presidency becomes obsessively personal, ethnically coded, and dismissive of performance, it ceases to be principled. Elders, of all people, should rise above such sentiments. By aligning themselves with narratives that refuse to acknowledge the progress made under a Tonga president, they risk being seen as extensions of an unjustifiable opposition rather than neutral guardians of the nation.
The proposal for a “Transitional National Unity Government” and a “Fourth Republic” within three years is equally problematic. Zambia already has a constitutionally elected government with a clear mandate. To propose parallel political arrangements outside the electoral process is to flirt with constitutional adventurism. Change, in a democracy, comes through the ballot, not elite conferences and task forces convened by unelected actors.This is not to argue that elders should be silent. On the contrary, they should speak, but with fairness, consistency, and humility. They should challenge corruption wherever it appears, defend national unity regardless of who is in power, and encourage constructive dialogue without prescribing political outcomes. They should also be willing to acknowledge progress when it occurs, even if it is achieved by leaders they did not support.
Ultimately, the Kapingila Declaration reveals more about its authors than about the state of the nation. By stepping into the arena as political actors, these elders have forfeited the neutrality that gives elderhood its moral weight. Zambia deserves elders who unite the nation, not elders who audition for opposition politics. In a democracy, let the opposition do its job and let elders return to theirs.
