Political Tool in Disguise: The Hidden Dangers of the Land Cancellation Law

PARLIAMENT SHOULD HEED DICKSON JERE AND GEORGE CHISANGA OVER TITTLE DEEDS LAW

Political Tool in Disguise: The Hidden Dangers of the Land Cancellation Law

By Dr Mwelwa

The presentation by Counsel Dickson Jere and Hon. George Chisanga to the parliamentary committee may go down as one of the most important interventions in Zambia’s legislative history—if only Parliament is humble enough to listen. Their contribution was not just legal analysis; it was a lesson in history, constitutionalism, and the dangers of unbridled administrative power. We must thank them, not out of formality, but because their argument stood between us and the legal abyss this proposed Land (Amendment) Bill threatens to open.

Let us begin with the origin of the title deed. The very concept traces back to feudal England—where landowners, peasants, and lords clashed for centuries over land rights. The Enclosure Acts in Britain saw the commons seized and privatized, pushing peasants into cities and prompting agitation that nearly tore the kingdom apart. It is from those dark periods that the Crown introduced clearer systems of documentation: the deed system, where landownership would be certified in writing, and later, the Torrens system, which gave rise to modern title registration. These reforms were not academic—they were survival tools. They were born out of rebellion, blood, and the need for stability. The title deed is therefore not an administrative luxury; it is a foundational safeguard that prevents tyranny through clarity of ownership.

When Zambia gained independence in 1964, we inherited this system from the British, improved upon it, and enshrined it in our legal framework. Today, banks lend based on it, courts adjudicate disputes through it, families bequeath it, and citizens stake their future on it. The idea that a single officer—appointed and answerable to the Executive—should have the unilateral power to cancel this guarantee is not only reckless, it is repugnant to constitutional democracy. It is not reform. It is regression to the darkest traditions of land insecurity that we thought we had buried with colonial rule.

Across the Commonwealth—from India to Australia, from Canada to Kenya—title deeds are respected, not feared. Even where registrars have administrative powers, cancellations of titles only happen through judicial review. Because it is universally understood: land is power. And power over land must never rest in one man’s pocket. It must pass through the crucible of courts, where facts, law, and justice can be weighed before a decision is made. Not behind closed doors, not on partisan instructions, and certainly not on the whim of a bureaucrat whose position may change with the next election.

What Counsel Jere and Hon. Chisanga reminded the committee is that we are standing at a dangerous crossroads. Do we, like other democratic nations, protect the title deed as a pillar of economic order and citizen security? Or do we descend into a system where any Registrar, armed with a pen and political instructions, can wipe away a family’s inheritance, a business’s collateral, or a citizen’s life investment?

Let us be honest—this law is not about administrative efficiency. It is about political control. It is about revenge disguised as reform. Today it may be used to punish opponents of the regime. Tomorrow it will be used to silence dissenters within. And in the near future, it will be used by the next regime to settle its own scores. Those in power today must remember: power changes hands. If you sow this law, you will reap it. That is the nature of unjust legislation—it outlives its architects and haunts their successors.

This is not the time for indifference. This is not the time for MPs to yawn through committee meetings and nod blindly during debates. This is the time to rise. If Parliament passes this bill, it will not merely be legislating policy. It will be authoring a national crisis. Landowners will panic. Banks will hesitate. Investors will flee. Courts will be overwhelmed. And worst of all, citizens will begin to doubt that anything in Zambia is truly theirs.

The British learned—through riots and revolts—that land rights must be protected in law, not subject to politics. They then taught us the same lesson through their legal exports. For over a century, that system has served us. Do not break it now in the name of progress. It is not broken. What is broken is political restraint.

To every MP: this is your Rubicon. If you cross it, you will have traded the birthright of millions for the short-term applause of a political master. You will have taken a working legal system and poisoned it with fear and arbitrariness. And when history comes to write the obituary of land justice in Zambia, your name will be there. Not as a reformer. But as an accomplice.

Stand up. Speak up. Vote no. Withdraw the bill. Let the courts remain the only proper venue for cancelling a title deed. That is what the law demands. That is what justice requires. And that is what history will remember.