THE ANATOMY OF A RESURRECTION: DEAD BILL 7 AND THE POLITICS OF DECEPTION
By Tom Mboya
Just to refresh your memory from yesterday’s exposé: by December last year, the President’s approval rating had plunged to around 30%. Faced with that harsh reality, the government began searching for two things, either a way to inflate those numbers or a political backdoor to hold onto power. That desperation is what triggered the rushed constitutional review process earlier this year. By the way, the approval ratings have dropped by 25 percent in November this year, as per the latest report. This may help you understand the desperation.
Be that as it may, I chose Tom Mboya as my shade name because he embodies clarity and courage in moments when truth becomes a dangerous commodity. He spoke frankly when honesty demanded a price. In this Republic, where regressive laws can turn candour into a liability, his name is a shield, a way to write without fear, while honouring a legacy that never bowed to intimidation.
Before the Constitutional Court delivered its judgment in Munir Zulu & Celestine Mukandila vs The Attorney General on Bill 7, some of the President’s own operatives quietly warned him that credible judges on the bench would likely rule in favour of the petitioners. In predictable fashion, he rushed to announce that he would withdraw Bill 7 “to allow more consultation” following criticism from civil society, the Law Association of Zambia, and the Catholic Bishops.
The gullible believed him. But words without matching actions are just political perfume masking rot.
Instead of withdrawing the bill, the Minister of Justice merely deferred it, a deliberate distinction. She wasn’t contradicting the President; she was following the script handed down by the master of deception, a sociopath par excellence, the self-anointed shushushu-in-chief.
Knowing that Bill 7 had collapse, the regime moved to amend the Superior Courts Act, hoping to reconstitute the Constitutional Court so that the same matter, once deferred, could be reheard by a more compliant bench. In their fantasy, a favourable ruling would resurrect Bill 7 and push it to committee stage.
But after the Judicial Service Commission’s plan to sneak loyalists onto the bench was halted by John Sangwa’s court action, the President shifted to Plan B, the Mushabati Commission, as a new pathway to amend the Constitution.
Yesterday, I reminded government, with intentional sarcasm, that Bill 7 would collapse on the floor of the House this Friday if it isn’t presented this week. Sarcasm, because legally speaking, there is no Bill 7. It died on 7 July 2025. Unfortunately, because the Attorney General comes from a small town and his legal advisor from a little-known firm, both still learning how government works, they have clearly not read the Standing Orders. Panic ensued.
They hurriedly went through the Mushabati Commission submissions and discovered, to their horror, that the Commission had done its work diligently and recommended positions directly at odds with HH’s wishes. By procedure, the constitutional amendment report should have been formally presented to the President by the Commission Chairperson, but he kept himself unavailable, resisting pressure to alter its findings. Ask them to release the report and you will see for yourself: the people rejected the amendments the President was pushing for.
As damage control, they hurriedly instructed the Minister of Justice, currently in India for medical treatment, to direct her acting counterpart to resuscitate a bill that is legally dead. A constitutional séance to raise a corpse.
To Hon. Imanga Wamunyima of Nalolo, once appointed to chair this committee:
You are too young to be used as a tool for someone else’s political salvation. Do not let your name be etched in history as the one who facilitated illegalities.
To UPND MPs:
You work hard to win your constituencies, but if you disagree with HH, you’ll simply be replaced. Do not delude yourselves with talk of “good clauses.” You are dealing with a sociopath who is preying on your fading popularity, dangling delimitation as bait.
To PF MPs like Anthony Mumba and the rest:
HH won’t bankroll your drinking escapades at Essence. These are penguins. You will only tarnish your own names. And to Sunday Chanda specifically, we haven’t forgotten the promise that his innocent brother would be released in exchange for political support. MacPherson still served the full unjust sentence.
To PF and Independent MPs tempted by breadcrumbs: You swore an oath to defend the Constitution. Break it, and we will pursue you individually and relentlessly next year.
To Hon. Chabinga: You haven’t resolved your debt issues and are on the verge of losing your house. The sociopath will give you peanuts until you finish delivering his agenda, and then abandon you in the cold.
To the Courts of Zambia: You are quick to arrest ordinary citizens for disregarding court rulings. Why then allow Parliament to trample judgments because of one man’s selfishness? Arrest those undermining the courts. Stop the hypocrisy.
In conclusion, when Linda Kasonde took the Attorney General to court over ministers overstaying in office after Parliament was dissolved, the PF government respected the Constitutional Court’s ruling. They ordered the ministers to vacate their offices and to refund every salary and allowance earned during that period. We expect President Hichilema, given how he marketed himself, to rise above PF’s pedigree. Instead, he has fallen beneath it.