What the Leaked Audio Really Reveals Our Justice System

By Kapya Kaoma

In the Hichilema administration, shame does not exist. This moral bankruptcy stems, in part, from a brutal assault on truth that began even before they assumed power. The very lies that fueled their rise to office now sustain their grip on Plot One. For this government, nothing is too unethical—so long as it buys them another day in power. One wonders how they sleep at night, or face their grandchildren, knowing they’ve traded integrity for expediency.

The now-infamous leaked audio between disgraced Minister Mwamba and PF Member of Parliament and Leader of the Opposition Chabinga is not just a political scandal—it’s evidence of a serious crime, potentially several. Yet despite its damning contents, Vice President Mutale Nalumango dismissed it as just a “suggestion… on how to deal with the funeral of our late president.” If this is how simplistic the Hichilema administration treats the rule of law, then we are not being governed—we are being deceived by a criminal enterprise cloaked in the language of democracy.

State House has not disputed the audio’s claim that President Hichilema personally phoned Chabinga twelve times. When Chabinga finally returned the call around 2 a.m., the President allegedly informed him of a covert plan to travel to South Africa and back the Zambian government’s position in the legal case involving former President Edgar Lungu’s remains. Chabinga was instructed to contact a Zambian embassy official. Mwamba, a minister in Hichilema’s cabinet, was not only aware of the scheme—she actively followed up, asking Chabinga to lobby the South African government to influence the outcome of the court ruling.

When Chabinga cautioned that South African law would likely favor the Lungus, he suggested bribing the judge might be the only option. Mwamba did not object. She did not distance the President from the plan or present her actions as speculative. On the contrary, the conspiracy was clear—and it had the President’s implicit blessing.

If President Hichilema was not involved, why has he not fired Minister Mwamba? Why has he not ordered the arrest of both Mwamba and Chabinga for dragging his name—and that of the Zambian government—through the mud?

Is Chabinga not supposed to represent the very corruption the United Party for National Development (UPND) swore to eradicate from public life? Since when did members of the discredited Patriotic Front (PF) become reliable whistleblowers? Only when they’re caught collaborating with State House, it seems.

Some would prefer we move on from this controversy. Doing so, however, would be a grave mistake. This audio offers a window into the moral rot at the heart of our justice system under Hichilema’s watch. If senior officials can contemplate—without hesitation—pressuring a foreign government to tamper with a court ruling against their own citizens, why should any Zambian trust our judiciary? Are our judges truly independent, or are they simply tools of State House—told whom to investigate, prosecute, or exonerate?

To date, the government’s excuses have been nothing short of insulting. First, the audio was dismissed as artificial intelligence. Then it was labeled a “mere suggestion.” Now, it is being ignored entirely.

Attorney General Mulilo Kabesha rushed to Pretoria to block the burial of Edgar Lungu—where is he now? Mwamba, Chabinga, and others have committed serious infractions. Their actions transcend misconduct. They implicate the President himself in international judicial interference, abuse of office, and corrupt manipulation of legal processes.

Hichilema once branded himself “Mr. Clean.” But he is only clean in his own eyes. In truth, he is every bit as corrupt and manipulative as the very people he once condemned. What makes him more dangerous is not hypocrisy—it is calculation. He doesn’t stumble into scandal; he orchestrates it, then lets others take the fall. He has elevated deception to an art form, and tragically, many in our nation remain enthralled by it.

I write this not out of malice, but with a measure of pity—for his enablers like Mwamba and Chabinga. When Hichilema is no longer in office—whether in 2026 or 2031—they will be the ones left to face the music. This case will not be buried. If the day ever comes when Hichilema’s presidential immunity is lifted, he too may face prosecution. His defenders will cry “political vengeance,” but this is not about politics. It is about state-sponsored corruption, executive overreach, and a coordinated attempt to pervert the course of justice across borders.

When the Anti-Corruption Commission finally regains its independence, it won’t need Vice President Nalumango’s spin. It will need the truth—and that truth already exists in the leaked audio–names, timestamps, hotel receipts, phone records, airline tickets, and, most importantly, who paid the bill. All it will require is the courage to make arrests.

And when that day comes, I will be watching.