We fully understand the anger, resentment, and political bitterness that may exist between the family of the late President Edgar Chagwa Lungu and the current the Hakainde Hichilema-led administration.
We witnessed the humiliation and inhumane treatment he suffered, being forced to disembark from an aircraft as he sought to travel out of the country. We are equally aware of the correspondence denying him authority and therefore medical support as he sought to travel to South Africa for treatment. We are aware that his penultimate trip before his death was a matter of guile.
Yes we are indeed aware that his party was taken from him in the most irregular manner. We are even aware, just as the nation is, of the constitutional court partisan conduct in his eligibility matter.
However we feel that the nation must rise above partisanship- death demands dignity—and for a former Head of State, it demands honour of the highest national order. That honour is a State Funeral, and his rightful place of burial is Embassy Park. Anything less would mark a blemish on the conscience of the Republic—one that history will not forgive, and future generations will not understand.
Zambia’s sixth President did not merely occupy an office; he embodied it. The moment Edgar Lungu was sworn in, he ceased to be a private citizen. He became, as former Secretary to Cabinet Leslie Mbula aptly put it, “State property”—an instrument of national service, subject to the highest scrutiny, and deserving of the highest respect upon his passing.
Mr. Mbula’s remarks are not sentimental; they are constitutional and moral truths. Zambia’s legal and political traditions accord a State Funeral to all who have served as Republican President. To suggest otherwise, to reduce his final rites to a private affair, is not only a violation of protocol—it is an insult to the institution of the presidency itself.
President Lungu may have had his critics—and rightly so in a democracy—but criticism does not erase the record of service. He led the nation, made difficult decisions, commanded the armed forces, and bore the burden of national leadership. If former ministers and senior civil servants are honoured with official funerals, how then can we deny the same to a former Head of State?
To politicize the funeral of a former President is to desecrate the very idea of national unity in grief. Zambia has always prided itself on peaceful transitions of power and national decorum during periods of mourning. Even when leaders have fallen out of favour, the country has never descended into petty revenge at the grave.
The refusal to grant Lungu a State Funeral would be unprecedented—and unwarranted.
Moreover, the burial of President Lungu anywhere other than Embassy Park, where his predecessors rest, would be a symbolic exile in death. It would send a message that political disagreements can override national decency, that vendettas can be carried into eternity. This is not the Zambia we claim to be. We are a Republic founded on unity, civility, and institutional memory.
This is a moment for the state to rise above itself. The family must accept the honour the nation accorded Edgar Lungu to lead. It is a rare hononour more so that it was constitutionally conferred and nationally accepted. Let us not allow present grievances to rob the past of its honour or the future of its integrity.
A State Funeral is not about Edgar Lungu. It is about Zambia—and whether we choose dignity or decline.
