By Edward Chisanga

The ignored, yet perhaps most deciding factor

After reading comments about Zambia’s failed attempt to install its citizen, Samuel Maimbo into the post of African Development Bank President (AfDB), allow me to offer a dissenting view that seems to be overwhelmingly absent in the other assessments.

The beginning is that although largely dominated by foreign shareholders, election of President of the AfDB seems to follow the African Union model (AU) of regional rotation even if this may be unwritten. While external shareholders like the US and other rich members may prefer merit, for example, that they may continue to vote for the same country’s representative in the next twenty years, as long as he or she delivers, there’s always the AU’s mindset that each member country must ‘enjoy’ the leadership of the organization by having its own citizen.

Since its formation in 1964, I see Rwanda, Morocco, Senegal, Zambia, Malawi, Ghana, Tunisia, Sudan and of course, Nigeria, the outgoing as previous holders. No country then has held it twice. This may be accidental, but I doubt. And this list of former holders is open to the public. All African countries know about it.
So, while some may argue that the rules of AfDB selection of its President have nothing to do with my view, that it’s purely merit, I see loopholes that point directly at the possibility of political influence. I see that eventually, a point comes when member states can easily group privately, at regional, neighborhood or some partnership level to gossip and say that Zambia was once President, why should we have it again?

From what I read, at one point, the Zambian candidate trailed behind the final winner. He was number two, and some may argue that my point is hot air. ‘How come he was almost number one?’ At this point when he became number two, it’s possible that, that’s when the point I’m making worked. I simply don’t see Tanzania, Malawi, Mali, Benin or any other thinking country want to vote for a Zambian to have the position two times when their own citizens have not been even once.

If we had trusted some civil servants who’ve worked in international or regional organizations (and we’ve many in government today), and respected their advice, they’d have explained to government how strong the point I’m using here stands among Africans. They know very well about

More importantly, is the AfDB really performing?

The flamboyantly dressed and vocal outgoing AfDP President, A. Adesina, making his last swan song statement said, “When I was first elected in 2015, the Bank’s capital stood at $93 billion. Today, it has grown to $318 billion. This expansion enabled unprecedented financial support to African countries, with $102 billion approvals over the past 10 years – accounting for 46% of all approvals since the Bank’s inception in 1964. I earnestly gave Africa my heart, my mind, and my all.”

Yet, the correlation, on the one hand, between six decades of AfDB’s life, nine former Presidents and so much capital of $318 billion, and performance, on the other hand fail completely to meet high expectations of the suffering citizens in the continent. Just how’s it possible that nine former Presidents of the bank, and so much money injected in it have, for sixty years failed to industrialize Africa? Instead of giving his heart, mind and all, the outgoing President in a bowtie and others before him should have given their head. Head and heart emit different results.

The AfDB is an elite organization, only known to those who’ve been to school. But even they don’t benefit from it. They may understand what it is, how it works but not what benefits it emits to them. So, the bowtie man can say whatever good words he wants. He’ll say he accomplished a lot. But, what do villagers in Nigeria, Ghana, Zambia and all the fifty-five countries in Africa say?

And as usual, it’s the same more ‘keeping up appearances’ you see and hear in African leaders than the desired outcome. They sing about outputs such as increased capital but say little or nothing about results. Their Heads of State and African public media too are preoccupied with statements like, “Meet the people vying to lead Africa’s top development bank,” instead of what they’ll do, and what past Presidents have done for poor citizens of Africa. Are Africans really interested in assessing what these people have done for Africa, and whether a decision is necessary that we no longer require them?

Below in Figure 1, I present a graph showing performance trend of Africa’s real GDP and real GDP per capita from 1964 – 2023. At the height of increased AfDB capital and swagger, my findings do not show a strong correlation between the lending given to the continent and its economic performance. I particularly draw the attention of the reader to the trend of real GDP per capita which directly affects individual African citizens. For almost sixty years, each individual annual growth has always been below 4% while GDP growth is largely below 6%. But most of it has also been many episodes of negative growths for the real GDP per capita. Is that the Africa you want?

The answer to the foregoing question: Is the AfDB performing lies in how African governments are using the funds to develop their countries and the continent. And of course, too, how the AfDB secretariat is using these resources to support governments. I’ve often heard from some officials working for the bank that their daily hotel stay costs much more than what other international organizations pay for their staff.

And each year, these stays are not few. Can African citizens have free access to these costs to see how much is being spent on the secretariat and how much this percentage is of the total capital that the outgoing President in a bowtie crows about? And, again, please give us the correlation between this amount and outcome or the final benefits to poor street kids of countries that have been Presidents of the AfDB before.

It’s disappointing that African government’s main role in the bank is to simply float their nationals to become its President while financial ownership belongs to the outside. The question is: if you don’t contribute financially to the AfDB, why do you want to lead the organization? Where’s your integrity in simply wanting to benefit without corresponding contribution?

Concluding

The difference between the AfDB and Asian Development Bank is that while the former has excelled in reinforcing the “keeping up appearances,” its counterpart in Asia doesn’t have to explain what it does, or has done since its creation in 1966, almost the same time as the African one. Today, driven by the Asian bank, developing Asia, even excluding China is seriously competing with giants like the US in technology in general, and in particular, in global trade in electronics, manufacturing and inward FDI flows. The final outcome is that developing countries in Asia have massively reduced hunger and poverty while in Africa measurements of success continues to rely on outputs.

Finally, perhaps the main shareholders like the USA and other developed nations should take over the Presidency of the AfDB and drop Africans from running it. What0s the point of continued keeping up appearances for people who’ve failed us continuously?

By Alexander Vomo

The UPND government, under the leadership of President Hakainde Hichilema and through Education Minister Douglas Syakalima, has loudly celebrated the introduction of free education. Yet behind the fanfare lies a disturbing truth: our classrooms are overcrowded, and our children are learning in chaos because there simply aren’t enough teachers to teach them.

Free education without adequate staffing is not a solution, it’s a publicity stunt. It’s a policy written in headlines but abandoned in implementation.

What kind of leadership declares victory while pupils are squeezed into classrooms of 80, even 100 students, per teacher?

What kind of New Dawn is this, where a child attends school but learns nothing because there’s no one to teach?

While parents rejoiced and children flocked to schools hoping for a brighter future, the government made no serious attempt to match that hope with action. Thousands of qualified, trained teachers are sitting at home, unemployed, waiting to serve their country. Meanwhile, those lucky enough to have jobs are overworked and underpaid, burning out trying to cover the gaps.

And yet, while this crisis grows, the same government is busy creating more constituencies, funding political campaigns, and bloating an already swollen bureaucracy.

Let the UPND answer this:

Where is the money for expanding parliamentary Seats coming from?

Where is the money going to come from to buy more Land Cruisers for more MPs?

Where is the leadership that understands that free education without teachers is like building hospitals without doctors?

Instead of building the future in classrooms, they are building careers in Parliament.

Instead of empowering minds, they are empowering themselves.

Instead of hiring teachers, they are hiring silence.

This is not what Zambians voted for.

This is not the transformation we were promised.

More MPs won’t teach a child how to read.

More political districts won’t solve illiteracy.

Constitutional amendments won’t help a student who has never even held a textbook.

Zambia needs more teachers, not just empty education slogans.

Zambia needs a government that matches policy with planning—not one that uses children’s futures as photo ops.

To every unemployed teacher, to every student packed into classrooms like sardines, to every parent losing faith in the system—your voices matter. You were promised change, not neglect. You were promised opportunity, not overcrowded failure.

A blackboard without a teacher is just a wall.

And a government that fails its children, fails its future.

Alexander Vomo is a Zambian entrepreneur, farmer, and advocate for self-reliance and sustainable development. He is a member of a growing movement encouraging African youth to take leadership in agriculture, governance, and economic transformation.

Cyber Law or Cyber Muzzle? Zambia’s Rights Body Warns Against Erosion of Expression Freedoms

By Chester Banda

Lusaka, Zambia – Amid rising public concern over the recently enacted Cyber Security and Cyber Crimes Act, the Human Rights Commission (HRC) has issued a strong advisory urging citizens not to surrender their constitutional right to free expression out of fear or intimidation.

The Commission’s caution comes at a time when digital space in Zambia is undergoing a transformation that some critics say could jeopardize civic freedoms under the guise of national security. While government officials have defended the laws as essential for protecting the public from cybercrime, others worry that vague provisions may be weaponized against whistleblowers, journalists, and everyday citizens expressing dissent.

In a press statement delivered this week, HRC Spokesperson Mweelwa Muleya emphasized that the new cyber legislation should not be interpreted as a tool for censorship. “Freedom of expression is not a privilege; it is a fundamental right enshrined in our Constitution and protected under international human rights conventions to which Zambia is a party,” he said.

Mr. Muleya urged law enforcement and regulatory bodies to uphold proportionality and legality in the enforcement of these laws. “It is crucial that any application of the cyber laws is done in a manner that is necessary and proportionate to the intended goal — which must be public safety, not political control,” he added.

The Cyber Security and Cyber Crimes Act, passed earlier this year, introduces new offenses such as cyber harassment, fake news dissemination, and illegal access to information systems. Proponents say it is a timely response to the growing threats of cyber fraud, online abuse, and digital misinformation. However, civil society groups have sounded alarm bells over clauses that allow for sweeping surveillance powers and punitive penalties for vaguely defined offenses.

“What Zambia risks now is a chilling effect on free speech, where citizens begin to self-censor for fear of arbitrary arrest or intimidation,” said Chileshe Mwamba, an information rights advocate with the Centre for Digital Freedom. “We’re seeing laws that could be used more to silence critics than to protect victims.”

This is not Zambia’s first foray into controversial digital legislation. In 2021, a version of the Cyber Bill was shelved following public outcry over similar concerns. The current iteration was passed with modest amendments but remains contentious.

According to legal analysts, a key weakness lies in the lack of clarity in enforcement guidelines, raising the possibility of abuse by overzealous authorities or politically motivated actors. Already, some citizens have reported increased caution in sharing political views online, and there have been a handful of arrests linked to social media posts deemed defamatory.

Despite the unease, the HRC insists that citizens should not retreat from public discourse. “Democracy thrives on robust dialogue, and it is the duty of every Zambian to keep that dialogue alive — responsibly but boldly,” Muleya affirmed.

He also called on the government to conduct broad-based civic education to ensure the public understands the scope and limits of the law. “The law should serve the people, not intimidate them. It must be transparent, fair, and consistently applied.”

As Zambia transitions further into the digital age, how it balances freedom and security will define not just its technological evolution, but the health of its democracy. For now, the message from the Human Rights Commission is clear: fear must not replace freedom  and silence must not become the new status quo.

In a world where a mere kilometer can separate abundance from austerity, Zambia stands as a cautionary tale  a nation paying triple for fuel while its oil-rich neighbor Angola practically gives it away. The numbers are damning. The irony is heartbreaking. And the silence? Deafening.

In Angola, a liter of petrol goes for just $0.327. In Zambia, the same liter costs $1.163 an unforgiving difference of $0.836 per liter. It’s a pricing gap that transcends economics. It screams geopolitical miscalculation. It exposes a failure of vision. And it leaves Zambian households, transporters, and small businesses crushed under the weight of a commodity that should be affordable in a region so rich in resources.

Angola isn’t just lucky — it’s strategic. Ranked as Africa’s fourth-largest oil producer and 18th globally, Angola pumps out about 1.2 million barrels of crude oil every day, yet consumes only 150,000 barrels domestically. The rest  over 1 million barrels daily  is exported, earning the country a staggering $31.4 billion in 2024 alone. China, Spain, India, France, and the Netherlands are top destinations for Angolan crude. But not Zambia. Never Zambia.

Instead, Lusaka turns 7,000 kilometers eastward to import refined petroleum from the Middle East, burning through nearly $1.8 billion annually for approximately 2 million metric tons of petroleum products. The irony? Zambia and Angola share 1,110 kilometers of border, are both members of SADC, and sit just 2,300 kilometers apart by road. Yet one pumps prosperity while the other imports poverty.

This is not a story about oil alone. It is a story of the betrayal of potential. A story of how Africa’s borders, drawn in Berlin and maintained in boardrooms, continue to suffocate cooperation. Why has Zambia failed to ink a bilateral fuel deal with Angola, especially when doing so could cut pump prices by nearly $0.60 per liter  even at Angola’s retail price?

The answer lies in decades of dependence. In systems designed to keep Africa externally reliant. In politics that reward inefficiency and diplomacy that lacks boldness. And in leaders more willing to fly to Dubai than to drive to Luanda.

The consequences are not abstract. For Zambians, high fuel prices mean higher transport costs, more expensive food, shrinking disposable income, and stalled development. A boda rider in Lusaka pays more per liter than an Uber driver in Madrid. This isn’t just unfair  it’s enraging. And yet, it doesn’t have to be this way.

Imagine an Africa where borders mean opportunity, not isolation. Where Angola supplies oil not just to the West, but to its neighbors  under African terms. Where Zambia, DRC, and Malawi enter joint refining and distribution agreements. Where infrastructure is built to connect, not to divide. Where policy is driven by Pan-African logic, not colonial hangovers.

Africa has been cheated by others   yes. But it is also cheating itself. And that must stop.

The Zambian government has a duty to act not tomorrow, but now. Negotiations with Angola should not be diplomatic dreams but operational realities. Establish a corridor. Sign a deal. Build a refinery. Bring fuel home.

Because until Africa learns to do business with itself, it will continue buying back its blessings  at a premium.

This is a call to rethink. To revolt  gently, wisely, and purposefully — against the systems that no longer serve us. It’s time we stopped being grateful for crumbs while we sit on gold.

Let Zambia be the last country where a liter of fuel costs a mother her meal, a child their school fees, and a nation its dignity when help is just across the border.