Christopher and Binwell Cannot Lead What They Helped to Break

Christopher and Binwell Cannot Lead What They Helped to Break

By Dr Mwelwa

Moses Left the Palace—But Did They?

A goat cannot bleat for justice while its mouth is still full of stolen maize. In our land, we say “he who dances to the drum of the feast cannot hear the cries from the village.” Today, some men want to wear the robes of revolution, but their clothes still smell of the kitchen where the people’s food was burned.

Let us speak plainly. If the Patriotic Front had not lost power, would Binwell Mpundu and Christopher Kang’ombe have formed Ichabaice? If they were still seated at the table of contracts and comfort, would their tongues be so loud today? Or would they still be nodding while the people suffered in silence?

When PF was in power, these same men walked tall in its shadow. They did not whisper against the violence. They did not cry when markets were razed or when students were beaten. They did not protest when fuel prices rose or debt buried the future of the youth. They were part of the machine. They knew the engine was broken, yet they kept it running. And now they want to drive the youth into a future with the same tired engine.

We remember. Africa has a long memory. “The child who does not ask where the rain started falling will not know where he got wet.” So we ask—when did these men start seeing the light? Was it after the fire was put out and they were thrown out of the house? If they were still welcome in the palace, would they have come to live with us in the village?

Moses walked away from Pharaoh while the table was still full. He gave up the palace for the people, not because he was chased, but because justice lived in his heart. That is true leadership. Not ambition born out of bitterness, but sacrifice rooted in love for the people.

Today, some want to use the youth like stepping stones to climb back to the throne they lost. But “you cannot plant maize today and harvest millet tomorrow.” If the seeds are from corruption, the harvest will never be justice.

Ichabaice is a beautiful idea. It speaks of nation-building, of dignity, of a future built by the youth. But a good song sung by the wrong singers becomes noise. If the foundation is weak, even the tallest building will fall.

Young people, open your eyes. Do not be led by those who only remembered you after the feast ended. Follow those whose hands are clean, whose records are clear, who were with you when it was dangerous to speak, when silence would have been easier. The future is not for those who want to return to the table—it is for those who never sat there in the first place.

As the elders say, “a man is not respected because he shouts the loudest, but because he walked the path while others watched.” Let us choose leaders who walked that path. Let us build Ichabaice not with recycled bricks from broken houses, but with fresh stone, shaped by truth, and bound with the mortar of consistency.