𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐙𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐲 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝟕

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐙𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐲 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝟕

By Dr Mwelwa

Bill 7 arrives clothed in the soft language of reform “mixed-member representation,” “harmonisation,” “clarity,” “actualising delimitation.” These words appear harmless, yet beneath them lies a profound restructuring of Zambia’s democracy. Innocent phrasing often hides the most determined power grabs.

The Bill proposes to increase constituency seats from 156 to 211, presented as a mere “actualisation” of delimitation. But numbers are not neutral. They redraw political influence, shift voter balances, and can quietly engineer future election outcomes for those already in power.

It introduces a mixed-member proportional system to “guarantee representation” of women, youth and persons with disabilities. Representation sounds noble, but these seats come through party lists, not voters. The powerful choose them. The people lose them. Inclusion becomes centralised control, masked as empowerment.

It amends the rules of nominations, resignations and replacement candidates. These appear procedural, yet they determine who stays on the ballot, who may be removed, and who benefits when a candidate falls. Technical terms can turn electoral fairness into administrative exclusion without public awareness.

The Bill revises by-election rules, removing voters from deciding replacements for party MPs. It expands nominated MPs, further strengthening presidential influence. The changes seem minor until one realises these tools allow the Executive to shape Parliament quietly, seat by seat.

It “harmonises” terms of Parliament and councils, and mandates vacancies for Ministers ninety days before elections. Harmonisation suggests order, yet this creates a ninety-day silence where Parliament, Ministers and councils cannot act leaving presidential power untouched during the most politically vulnerable period.

It removes the two-term limit for mayors and council chairpersons, expands council membership to include Members of Parliament, and redefines who qualifies as Secretary to the Cabinet. Administrative words disguise political capture, centralising authority in layers citizens rarely scrutinise.

It allows the Attorney-General and Solicitor-General to stay in office after elections until new officers are appointed, creating continuity that favours incumbency. Stability is the excuse; advantage is the outcome.

It revises definitions of “child” and “adult,” and clarifies petition timelines. Even definitions and deadlines can shape justice. A few words changed can alter who is accountable, who votes, who marries, who is criminally liable, and who loses a case before it is heard.

Each clause appears technical, harmless, almost routine. But democracy is lost not in loud declarations, but in soft amendments wrapped in administrative language. Every citizen must pay attention, for silence today becomes regret tomorrow.