JUDICIAL OVERREACH OR JUDICIAL BREAKDOWN? THE BREBNER CHANGALA CASE SPARKS OUTRAGE
By Thandiwe Ketiš Ngoma
Something is deeply wrong.
The handling of civil rights activist Brebner Changala’s “seditious” case is no longer just raising eyebrows; it is raising alarm. What we are witnessing is not a routine legal process, but what many are now calling a dangerous and deliberate erosion of judicial order. At the center of this storm stands Chief Resident Magistrate Davies Chibwili, whose decision to proceed with a matter already before the High Court has thrust him into the glare of public and legal scrutiny.
This is not a technical mistake, nor is it a harmless procedural overlap. It goes to the very heart of justice itself.
The High Court is a superior court. It is the anchor of judicial authority. It supervises subordinate courts, defines legal boundaries, and, most importantly, stands as the final shield protecting the rights of citizens. That hierarchy is not optional; it is the backbone of the rule of law.
And yet, in this moment, that backbone appears to be under strain.
Despite the matter being properly before the High Court, Magistrate Chibwili has reportedly chosen to proceed. That single decision now carries enormous weight because it raises a question that cannot be ignored: on what legal basis does a subordinate court press forward when a superior court is already seized of the matter?
This is not just a legal puzzle. It is a question of integrity—of whether the system is being upheld or quietly undermined.
Under Article 28 of the Constitution, the High Court is the guardian of fundamental rights. It alone has the authority to determine whether those rights have been violated. This is not merely a legal provision; it is a promise to every citizen that when their freedoms are threatened, there is a court powerful enough to protect them.
But what happens when that promise is put at risk?
By stepping into a space reserved for the High Court, the Magistrate’s Court is, according to critics, doing more than proceeding; it is encroaching. When that happens, the consequences are not theoretical. They are real, immediate, and potentially dangerous.
A Magistrate’s Court can act quickly. It can issue decisions that take effect immediately, including decisions that deprive a person of liberty before the High Court has had the opportunity to speak. This leads to a troubling question: is justice being served, or is it being pre-empted?
If constitutional protection can be outrun by procedure, then what protection truly remains?
Legal authorities such as Re Mumba (1984 ZR 44) and Macdonald Chipenzi v The People (HPR-03-2014) were never meant to sit idle in law reports. They exist to guide moments like this, reminding us that hierarchy matters, jurisdiction matters, and courts must not act in ways that undermine one another.
To ignore these principles is not a minor misstep. It risks inviting disorder into the very system meant to uphold justice.
This is why the spotlight on Magistrate Chibwili is not only justified but necessary. This is not about personal attack; it is about public accountability. When judicial power is exercised in a way that raises serious constitutional concerns, it must be questioned, examined, and measured against the highest standards of the law.
The stakes are too high for silence.
If a subordinate court can proceed in parallel with the High Court on matters of constitutional rights, the consequences will extend far beyond this case. The lines of authority begin to blur, the strength of precedent weakens, and public confidence in the justice system begins to erode.
Today, it is Brebner Changala. Tomorrow, it could be anyone.
This is not just about one individual. It is about every citizen who depends on the courts for protection. It is about whether the judiciary will remain within its constitutional limits or whether those limits will be tested, stretched, and eventually ignored.
Once that line is crossed, it is not easily redrawn.
That is why this moment matters.
This case is not just a controversy. It is a warning. It is also a call to lawyers, civil society, and all defenders of justice to speak, to question, and to demand that the rule of law is not only proclaimed but practiced.
Because if it is not defended now, it may not be recognizable when it is gone.