Crossing the Line: The President’s Shameful Outburst.
By Linda Banks
When Words Wound a Nation
In every culture, there are lines that mark the boundary between political contest and moral transgression. In Southern Zambia, as across much of the continent, to speak ill of a mother is to strike at the very root of a man’s being; to invoke her name in a context of incest is not merely offensive,it is a violation of the sacred covenant that holds families and communities together. To then mock the physical sight of kin, their impairments and vulnerabilities, is to descend into a cruelty unknown in respectful discourse.
Yet that is precisely what occurred in Mazabuka this past weekend, when President Hakainde Hichilema stood before a rally in his own Southern Province heartland and unleashed a torrent of abuse against Gary Nkombo, the former minister, once his closest ally, now an independent candidate for the constituency. The President’s words, spoken in Tonga, alleged that Nkombo “slept with his own mother,” and went on to deride visual impairments affecting Nkombo, his mother and his daughter. For a Head of State to resort to such language is not merely a lapse in judgment; it is a collapse of statesmanship, and a profound betrayal of the values expected of high office.
A Backdrop of Silence and Dissent
The rupture between the two men is said to stem from Nkombo’s refusal to support a key administration policy,a defiance that has evidently rattled State House. Mazabuka has long been a UPND stronghold, and the fear of losing ground to a rival who knows the party’s inner workings appears to have unmoored the President’s restraint.
In documenting this moment, I have been careful not to surrender entirely to emotion, though as a woman, the sting is unavoidable. Instead, I sought measured analysis from Martin Kalungu‑Banda, a figure of proven diplomatic standing and forensic clarity; to help frame the moment without distortion. His assessment was unflinching: “When the highest office weaponises a mother’s name, mocks disability, and violates cultural sanctity from a public stage, it does not wound one family alone,it erodes the respect owed to every woman, every vulnerable person, every citizen.”
The Weight of Public Condemnation
The backlash has been swift and multifaceted, cutting across civil society, faith communities and the disability rights movement.
Julien Mwape, a leading disability rights activist, issued a statement that lays bare the harm done: “Those remarks were perceived as degrading and disrespectful toward people with visual impairments and others living with disabilities… Leaders have a responsibility to uphold the dignity of every citizen, and their words should promote respect, inclusion, and unity rather than reinforce stigma or discrimination.”
Mwape reminds us that the Constitution guarantees equality and dignity; that biblical and cultural teachings affirm the sanctity of every person. He poses questions that demand an answer: “If persons with disabilities become targets of insults simply for participating in public life, what message does that send to young people living with disabilities who aspire to leadership?” His conclusion is powerful: “Mr President, an apology is not a sign of weakness,it is a sign of leadership.”
Women’s organisations have been equally forthright. The Non‑Governmental Gender Organisations’ Coordinating Council (NGOCC), under Beauty Katebe, has led the condemnation, describing the language as misogynistic, taboo and an assault on womanhood itself. But NGOCC’s concerns run deeper than a single incident. Just a day ago, on 29 July, Katebe released a searing report on female representation in the 2026 elections: only one of 14 presidential candidates is a woman; at parliamentary level, representation has dropped from 21.1% to 12.5%; across all tiers, participation remains far below the SADC and AU targets of gender parity.
“Gender equality cannot remain a campaign promise while women continue to encounter barriers during candidate selection,” Katebe declared. Her words carry added weight in the wake of Mazabuka: the pattern is clear, a government that struggles to elevate women in its ranks also struggles to speak respectfully of them.
Church mother bodies have joined the call for accountability, noting the contradiction between the President’s public faith and his public conduct. “Provoking women is like disturbing a hive of bees,” one widely circulated local proverb warns. “The sting follows the provocation.” Many women are now urging mothers nationwide to register their displeasure at the ballot box, arguing that such disrespect cannot go unanswered.
The Paradox of Loyalty
Perhaps the most telling commentary comes from within the President’s own circle. Laura Miti, a known ally and supporter, offers a reflection that cuts deep and reveals a striking contradiction:
“I sometimes wonder whether, after President Hichilema has allowed his internal woundedness to do the speaking in public, he goes home and considers how totally into the bush he went.”
“What’s clear is that no one around him has the ability to whisper in his ear ,Boss no, enough. Or does he ignore them?”
“The problem with letting your pain, or sense of grievance, lead you is that you will say things that knock everyone backwards. Usually, they are things you would never accept yourself, but, hey, you decide it’s OK ,kaili Chanikalipa. To mean someone’s mother had sexual inter course with them. There is no redder line than that.”
It is a paradox that speaks volumes: even those loyal to the man cannot defend his words.
The Road Ahead
Zambia stands at a fragile moment. The footage from Mazabuka will not fade; it stands as a record of a moment when dignity was cast aside for political expediency. The President now faces a choice: to remain entrenched in anger, or to heed the counsel of activists, church leaders and even his own supporters.
Leadership is not defined by the roar of the crowd, but by the grace with which one conducts oneself when challenged. To apologise would not diminish the Presidency; it would restore its moral authority. It would signal that in this nation, the vulnerable are safe from ridicule, mothers are held in honour, and the Constitution’s promise of dignity applies to all, even political opponents.
For the women of Zambia, for persons with disabilities, and for all who cherish civility, the message is plain: respect is not optional. It is the bedrock of authority,and without it, even the highest seat rests on shifting sand.
Useless article…….another Sishuwa in a woman’s body.