For more than three decades, Zambia has stood out in Southern Africa for doing something many of its neighbours have struggled to do: change presidents peacefully through the ballot box. Since multiparty democracy returned in 1991, power has changed hands between the ruling and opposition parties three times at the ballot box: in 1991, 2011 and 2021.
A bus driver in Matero, Lusaka, will still tell you how he queued for hours in 1991 to vote out Dr Kenneth Kaunda, Zambia’s founding leader, because he believed his vote would count. That belief is why the events surrounding the general elections of August 13, 2026, have attracted great attention and scrutiny far beyond Zambia.
President Hakainde Hichilema came to power in 2021 promising a clean break from what he described as “authoritarian practices, electoral manipulation,” and the jailing of opponents. He won the election that year with a popular vote and international goodwill. His inauguration was celebrated as democratic restoration.
Five years later, Hichilema sought a second term against a deeply fragmented field. The Electoral Commission of Zambia (ECZ) registered a record 26 presidential aspirants, with 14 ultimately approved to run. There were also more than 1,132 parliamentary candidates across 226 constituencies. The sheer number reflected both political openness and the splintering of the opposition into short-lived alliances, partly driven by internal wrangles and alleged executive influence over the Registrar of Societies, the body that registers political parties. In several constituencies, opposition candidates told observers that they discovered at the last minute that their parties had been de-registered or that their symbols had been swapped.
In the months before the vote, the political temperature rose after rushed constitutional amendments were signed into law. The changes expanded the National Assembly from 156 to 226 seats, created additional constituencies, introduced mixed-member proportional representation, and reserved seats for women, youth, and persons with disabilities.
The government argued that the reforms would make parliament more inclusive. However, critics, including the Catholic Church, the Law Association of Zambia, opposition parties and some legal groups, said the reforms were rushed without broad national consultation and could entrench the ruling party’s advantage. One pastor in Ndola likened the move to “changing the size of the football pitch after the match has started.”
Election day itself was generally calm. The European Union Election Observation Mission noted that voters had a real choice among candidates. But it flagged restrictions on opposition campaigns and the advantages of incumbency, which created an uneven playing field, with serious incidents during vote counting and tabulation that lacked transparency.
International election observers and domestic monitors reported the suspension of vote counting in some centres, deployment of soldiers at polling and tallying stations, allegations of vote tampering, and the closure of courts that would normally hear urgent electoral petitions. A presiding officer in the Copperbelt, speaking on condition of anonymity, said soldiers ordered his team to stop counting at 2 a.m. and leave ballot boxes overnight.
When the final result was announced, Hichilema was declared the winner with around 60% of the vote. He was sworn in for a second term on 1 September 2026, while his main rival Brian Mundubile, leader of the main opposition alliance, was in prison on treason charges. Election Observers said the electoral process was marred by serious irregularities.
Mundubile and his running mate, Makebi Zulu, were charged with treason, a non-bailable offence that carries a life sentence under Zambian law. For many Zambians, it felt like a reversal of roles. The same treason law was used against Hichilema when he was in opposition.
Beijing and Washington congratulated Hichilema and sent representatives to his inauguration, underscoring Zambia’s strategic importance as a major copper producer at the centre of global competition for critical minerals.
On 14 August, a day after voting and just a few hours following Mundubile’s meeting with the SADC election observation team, Zambian security forces reportedly raided his Kabulonga residence amid reports of gunfire, injuries, missing property, and uncertainty over the whereabouts and condition of members of his political party and security team.
This is an incident that cannot be waved off or buried, because it sets a dangerous precedent for the country and damages its reputation. It also harms the region’s image.
Those who ordered the raid and those who carried it out must be held to account.
A UN Special Rapporteur on the rights to peaceful assembly and association, Gina Romero, said that following the election, repression of political opposition surged, with widespread intimidation and arrest of numerous opposition supporters, many held beyond legally mandated time frames without formal charges, some facing what she described as “concocted charges” of treason.
She called on the Zambian authorities to release all political detainees, respect fundamental freedoms and restore democratic accountability, warning that “a healthy democracy requires that all voices – including opposition members, religious leaders, civil society actors, and journalists – speak freely without fear.”
The Commonwealth and European Union observers echoed those calls. One domestic monitoring initiative logged nearly a thousand incident reports during the campaign period, characterised by tension, violence, intimidation and restrictions on assembly and expression.
Civil society groups also complained about crackdowns, using the Cyber Crimes Act, which has been used to arrest journalists and activists for online expression, the Public Order Act, requiring police permission for any public gathering, and Penal Code provisions on sedition and criminal libel. There is also a proposed NGO Bill that would give the government broad powers to regulate and de-register civil society organisations.
A young journalist in Lusaka told the Media Institute of Southern Africa that her colleague was detained over a Facebook post. “We are learning to self-censor again,” she said.
Zambia is not alone on this anti-democratic trajectory. In Zimbabwe, after a promising democratic period in the early 1980s, the government began expanding the parliament, creating reserved seats, and using treason and security laws against opposition leaders. Today, Zimbabwe holds regular elections but is classified as an authoritarian regime.
In Tanzania, under the late President John Magufuli, the initial drive for development and anti-corruption has given way to bans on political rallies, the closure of newspapers under cybercrime laws, and the arrest of opposition figures. One of Africa’s most peaceful countries has seen its civic space shrink so fast that by 2020 even the Catholic Church was warning that fear had replaced debate.
Also, in neighbouring Uganda, President Yoweri Museveni restored stability but removed term and age limits through constitutional amendments similar to those in Zambia. Treason charges became routine against opponents like Kizza Besigye and, later, Bobi Wine. The result is a country that has not had a peaceful transfer of power since 1986, and where young people overwhelmingly want change but have never voted in a truly open contest. Tanzania and Uganda are in East Africa.
Meanwhile, Malawi in Southern Africa as Zambia, offers both a warning and hope. In 2019, a flawed election with serious tallying irregularities and military involvement led to months of protests. The Constitutional Court made history by nullifying the election and ordering a rerun in 2020, which produced a peaceful transfer. Malawi showed that institutions can correct course, but only if courts remain open and independent.
Zambia might not become Zimbabwe or Uganda overnight. But the danger is the incremental erosion of human rights and personal liberty. First, constitutional changes that enlarged the legislature to reward loyalists; second, the use of cyber and public order laws to silence criticism; third, the use of treason charges to remove rivals; and fourth, a new NGO law that cuts off funding for groups that document abuses. Together, these steps make it almost impossible to lose power.
That courts throughout the country were ordered to close during a period when the opposition was ready and expected to file a petition against the disputed election results is a sad commentary on democracy and transparency. Also surprising was the judiciary’s failure to provide an alternative to facilitate the opposition’s filing of the petition, and instead allowed Hichilema’s inauguration to proceed.
Many believe the court’s closure was intended to prevent the opposition from exposing the truth about who actually won the elections. A trader at Soweto Market in Lusaka put it simply: “If you arrest every person who disagrees, who will remain to tell the president that the price of mealie meal has gone up?”
According to an Afrobarometer survey, 86% of Zambians believe elections are the best way to choose leaders, one of the highest rates on the continent. Roughly 8.7 million people out of the country’s estimated 21 million population are registered to vote.
As a major copper producer, Zambia sits at the centre of competition between China and the United States for critical minerals, while still navigating the aftermath of a prolonged sovereign debt crisis. Youth unemployment, rising living costs, and uneven access to public services dominate everyday conversations.
The government’s full funding of the 2026 elections, estimated at K2.2 billion, was presented as a sign of national ownership. Still, critics ask whether similar investment is reaching health, education, and voter education, particularly in rural areas where radio remains the primary source of information.
Zambia provides a test case for whether incumbents can rewrite electoral rules before an election and still retain democratic legitimacy. If the precedent shifts toward using expanded parliaments and treason charges as tools of survival, that model risks being normalised across the region.
How firmly the AU, SADC, the Commonwealth and the EU press for credible and transparent electoral processes, vote tallying, and the treatment of opposition figures according the law, becomes crucial in Zambia and other countries for the entrenchment or consolidation of democracy in Africa.
Zambia today is a story of democratic fragility. The institutions for democracy exist, voters still believe in them, and elections remain fiercely competitive. Yet the stories from the vote counting centres, newsrooms and markets all point to the same anxiety – that fear is slowly replacing debate.
If that anxiety is ignored, the examples of Zimbabwe, Uganda and Tanzania show where the road ends – elections without change, stability without accountability, and a generation that stops queuing to vote because they no longer believe that their vote counts. If institutions are allowed to work – courts are open and dispense justice, with fewer or no political detainees – Malawi is an example that positive transformation is possible. The impact will be felt well beyond Zambia’s copper belt.
Dr Sonny Onyegbula is a US-based legal consultant
