Promissory Notes and Broken Promises: A Nation Left in the Dark- Dr. Mwelwa

Promissory Notes and Broken Promises: A Nation Left in the Dark

By Dr. Mwelwa

“By their fruits, you will know them.” These words from Matthew 7:16 echo across centuries, a timeless warning to leaders who promise much but deliver little. Promises, after all, are not meant to be the glittering crowns of words, but the sturdy roots of action. President Hakainde Hichilema of Zambia, a man whose silver tongue has often won him respect, returned from yet another foreign trip in September 2024, laden with documents and assurances. Yet, as with each of his previous excursions, Zambians are left wondering: where are the fruits of these promises?

It has become a pattern—a recurring chapter in the book of unfulfilled hopes. In September 2023, after a meeting with Chinese President Xi Jinping, Hichilema triumphantly announced the signing of over 15 Memoranda of Understanding (MOUs) amounting to billions in promised investments. These MOUs were paraded like trophies, a testament to his ability to charm foreign leaders and secure investment. Yet, one year later, little has materialized. Factories are still dreams on paper, infrastructure remains untouched, and the ordinary Zambian still waits in the dark—literally and figuratively.

The issue is not just the failure of Chinese promissory notes to turn into tangible progress. It is the deeper, more insidious erosion of trust. As Proverbs 25:14 says, “Like clouds and wind without rain is one who boasts of gifts never given.” Every time Hichilema steps off a plane, his hands full of agreements and pledges, the clouds gather in Zambia’s skies. But, just as often, they pass without a drop of rain. Zambians, many of whom placed their hope in the man they believed would lead them into prosperity, are left parched.

Hichilema’s campaign rhetoric, so filled with promise, now rings hollow. “We will turn Zambia into a land of opportunity!” he once declared. But where are the opportunities for the countless citizens still without reliable power, without jobs, without the basic infrastructure to live a dignified life? Instead, they watch as their president continues his globe-trotting in search of elusive investments, while back home, the lights quite literally go out.

The recent energy crisis is perhaps the clearest indictment of this administration’s mismanagement. In a country where production has come to a standstill due to the lack of electricity, the refusal of the Energy Regulation Board to raise tariffs—at a time when an increase could have saved Zambia from crippling blackouts—seems like a misstep of monumental proportions. “Better we pay more for power,” some Zambians argue, “than live in the darkness where nothing moves.” But Hichilema’s government, whether out of shortsightedness or political maneuvering, chose to avoid the hard decisions. And so, Zambia remains in the dark, both literally and economically.

World leaders have often spoken of the dangers of making promises that cannot be fulfilled. Former U.S. President Barack Obama once remarked, “We cannot meet the challenges of today with the promises of yesterday.” And yet, this seems to be the very trap Hichilema has fallen into. His promises—so abundant and enthusiastically delivered—are relics of yesterday, unsuited to the harsh realities of today. As each month passes without significant progress, the Zambian people are beginning to see that these promises are nothing more than words.

In the Bible, leaders are cautioned against empty promises. Ecclesiastes 5:5 wisely counsels, “It is better not to vow than to make a vow and not fulfill it.” President Hichilema has made many vows, both to his people and to the international community. Yet as the MOUs gather dust and the investments remain mere intentions, one cannot help but wonder: why vow at all if there is no power, no will, no ability to fulfill it?

The real tragedy of Zambia’s current predicament lies not just in the darkness that envelops the country, but in the fading light of hope among its people. For a leader who once spoke with such conviction and clarity, the reality on the ground is a stark contrast to the soaring rhetoric of his campaign. The people need power, they need jobs, and they need a leader who can turn words into action. In a country blessed with abundant natural resources and a strategic location, the failure to deliver is not just a political misstep; it is a betrayal of the nation’s potential.

As Zambia waits, the lesson from scripture resounds even more clearly: “Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save” (Psalm 146:3). For now, it seems that Zambia’s future lies not in the promises of its president but in the hands of a people who, despite the broken pledges, continue to endure.