MULUNGUSHI: THE DANCE OF A PEOPLE AND THEIR PRESIDENT
By David Zulu
They came in their thousands, dressed in red, singing, chanting, the Mulungushi International Conference Centre pulsing with electric energy. When President Hakainde Hichilema entered, the hall erupted.
It would be folly to call it choreography or coincidence. This was no accident. It was the heartbeat of a people, an organic surge of loyalty and shared purpose.
For some, especially those nursing ambitions or shouting from rooftops abroad that the UPND was “dying,” the sight was unsettling. But for the President, it was his pulse, the living rhythm that connects him to his fellow citizens.
In that charged moment, his cultural ancestry, born of the cattle-rearing plains of Southern Zambia, stirred within him. With a knowing smile and the warmth of kinship, he called to the crowd: “Amundikambile ndekalombwana!”
To the uninitiated, it might have sounded like self-conceit. In truth, it was anything but. It was Kukambilwa, a cultural dialogue of pride, gratitude, and community.
Among the Tonga, and in many ancient traditions, such as those of the Red Indians, Kukambilwa is the art of collective celebration. Dancers form a semi-circle, clapping and singing, while one steps forward to tell a story, of a good hunt, a rich harvest, a daughter’s marriage. Each step is not self-praise, but shared victory; not individual glory, but communal thanksgiving.
So it was at Mulungushi. The President spoke; the people answered. He provoked thought; they roared in affirmation. It was not a rally, but a conversation. Not command, but communion.
In that moment, politics became poetry. Leadership became dialogue. And Kukambilwa, ancient, rhythmic, alive, returned as a modern chorus of unity, persuasion, and national aspiration.
Mulungushi became the circle.
The people, the dancers.
Their leader, one of them.
(DZ)
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