Can First Lady Mutinta Hichilema Bridge Lungu Funeral Divide?: Soft Power, Not Protocol

By Kapya Kaoma

The death of former President Edgar Chagwa Lungu should have united Zambia in solemn mourning. Instead, it has cracked open political wounds—threatening to turn his burial into a national crisis.

Rather than calming the waters, the UPND leadership seems to be digging in. Aside from its disjointed messaging, morally and emotionally, it is in a far weaker position than the Lungu family and the Patriotic Front (PF). With every press statement, threat, and act of procedural control, the state deepens the grief of the bereaved and hands the PF a powerful political opening.

Many UPND officials expect the PF to remain apolitical. This is wishful thinking. This funeral is being weaponized for a reason—the PF knew Lungu was its biggest asset for retaining power. With him gone, how it handles his death is key to its future. Beyond portraying itself and Lungu as victims of a vindictive regime, the PF has cast the UPND as indifferent to grief. By weaponizing bureaucracy, the HH administration is allowing the PF to mobilize, reclaim sympathy, and reframe the national conversation to its advantage.

President Hichilema’s administration must recognize another optic. Former First Lady Esther Lungu and her daughter Tasila are not passive mourners—they are active actors in their own right. Both have been on the receiving end of state persecution. Tasila, in particular, is a rising political force—possibly eyeing the presidency one day. Her father’s death has silently re-catapulted her into the national spotlight.
She stood by her father when he was booed at Hichilema’s inauguration. That image—one of filial loyalty in the face of public scorn—seared itself into the national memory. Many now await to see how she will honor him in death. But unlike other former presidents’ children, Tasila has won people’s hearts. She needs the PF to realize her dreams—and against Mweetwa’s antics, negotiations over Lungu’s funeral won’t happen without the PF at the table.

With the PF behind them, the Lungus won’t bow to the state’s demands. They have no reason to comply and every reason to resist. This is their chance to turn the tables on a system that has relentlessly harassed them. (If the Church didn’t stop HH from harassing them, why should it intervene now?) Moreover, the state cannot bury Lungu without their consent. Lungu was not just a former president, but a father and husband. They watched him die, and they deserve the dignity to grieve without state coercion.

To insist that the state dictates his funeral arrangements is tone-deaf. Lungu died a “neglected” private citizen. The UPND’s insistence on protocol—on treating his death as state property—only heightens tensions and hardens resentment. Besides, the family knows that an official state funeral could be held in the future under a different regime.

No doubt, the state has a role to play—but it must act as a respectful partner. Protocol only matters if it is acknowledged by all parties. In this situation, it is not. The PF and the Lungu family must set the tone, and the government must follow—not lead.
The President’s role and funeral arrangements ought to be negotiated with humility. Why not offer material support—tents, logistics, security—at the PF Secretariat as opposed to Belvedere Lodge? The UPND stands to gain no political capital from Lungu’s death. Public opinion is already formed.

Some are pointing to the Church to resolve the crisis. But what about First Lady Mutinta Hichilema? Could she be that bridge? Could she quietly reach out to Esther and Tasila Lungu—not through press conferences, but through the soft power of shared experience and maternal empathy?

Mutinta is a mother, too. She could speak to Tasila in ways the President cannot. She knows her husband better than anyone and may communicate with a nuance that politics simply doesn’t allow. She has no points to score—only peace and sympathy to offer both parties. I am not suggesting one meeting, but a number of discussions devoid of cameras. Could her soft power be the missing link?

I don’t want to dismiss the anger of the Lungus or the PF. It is real. The UPND officials’ overreach in attempts to impress the President could spark unrest. Yet I still believe that a careful, inclusive, and compassionate approach could bring us together. In mourning, there are no winners—only fragile, wounded human hearts. Lungu deserves a dignified burial. His family deserves compassion and respect. Zambia deserves peace.

Threats won’t give us any of these. But humility just might.

Kapya Kaoma