CHIEFS, POLITICS AND THE TRADITIONAL MINISTRY: THE ROYAL JIG IN A POLITICAL STORY
The FOX Newspaper | Opinion
WHEN THE THRONE MEETS THE THRONE ROOM (OF POLITICS)
Once upon a time, chiefs were guardians of tradition, keepers of the land, and referees of who stepped on whose goat. Today, they’re sounding more like MCs at a political rally. Somewhere along the way, someone gave them microphones—and forgot to take them back.
We now live in a world where a chief can praise free education, solar panels, and even ask for a university to be named after a sitting president—all in the same breath—without blinking or sipping water. That’s not tradition, that’s a TED Talk.
A MINISTRY WITHOUT A TRADITIONAL MINISTRY?
You remember the Ministry of Chiefs and Traditional Affairs? Yeah, that got merged. Apparently, someone said, “Let’s mix chieftainship with pothole repair and council by-laws.” So now, our esteemed chiefs fall under Local Government. Next thing you know, your headman will be reporting to the same office that handles streetlights and broken drain covers.
One minute you’re discussing ancestral land, the next—someone hands you a budget for a borehole and says, “Submit your ward plan.”
THE COUNCILLOR-CHIEF ALLIANCE: A SOAP OPERA IN WARD 17
Councillors, bless them, are supposed to work with chiefs. But nowadays they work on them—massaging egos and arranging ribbon-cuttings like wedding planners. Some even visit the palace more than their own wards.
And don’t get us started on MPs—who suddenly remember where the palace is around election time, bringing “gifts” like blankets in October and disappearing faster than internet bundles in November.
TRADITIONAL LEADERSHIP OR TRADITIONAL LOYALTY CARDS?
Look, no disrespect—our chiefs are vital. They unite people, resolve conflicts, and officiate very emotional land disputes. But when their press statements sound like campaign jingles, we wonder if someone’s writing these speeches straight from a party manifesto.
Picture this:
“We, the royal council, hereby endorse the Honourable for his outstanding performance in…well, he promised us a palace. That counts, right?”
AND FINALLY: WHAT WE REALLY NEED
Maybe—just maybe—what the people of Luapula (and beyond) need more than palaces is functioning clinics, working roads, and a school that doesn’t double as a chicken coop after 3 p.m.
And if we must name a university after someone, let’s name it “University of Real Development”—where the entrance exam is fixing just one rural bridge. Pass that, and you get a title.
The final joke?
Zambians know what’s up. We laugh not because we don’t care, but because we do—and because if we don’t laugh, we might just cry watching a chief open a speech with, “On behalf of my people, and my pending palace roof…”