The Price of Empty Lamps: The Tragedy of Unpreparedness in Zambia’s Political Arena

The Price of Empty Lamps: The Tragedy of Unpreparedness in Zambia’s Political Arena.

By Ernest Ngondo

There is a profound, aching sorrow in watching an open door slam shut. In the ancient, haunting biblical narrative of the Ten Virgins found in Matthew 25:1–13, ten women stood at the threshold of a lifetime of celebration.

They possessed the initial invitation, the privilege of proximity and the initial spark of light. Yet, as the deep midnight wore on and the bridegroom delayed, five of them found themselves locked outside in the cold darkness. Their failure was not a lack of desire or opportunity, they simply mistook the beginning of the journey for the end.

They spent all their fuel during the easy hours of waiting, leaving nothing for the brutal, decisive stretch. When the definitive moment finally arrived, their lamps were empty. They scrambled to find sustenance at the final hour, but time waited for no one. The door was shut tight.This timeless spiritual narrative maps perfectly onto the highly competitive landscape of Zambian politics.

As the August 13, 2026 General Election rapidly approaches, the opposition ticket of Presidential Candidate Brian Mundubile and his running mate Makebi Zulu serves as a stark modern case study of this biblical parallel. Bursting onto the scene with early fanfare, tactical alliance negotiations and legal maneuvering, Mundubile and Zulu generated substantial early momentum. Yet, leadership is a grueling marathon, not a sprint.

In politics, campaign “oil” takes the form of stable finances, deep strategic reserves and long term logistical endurance. When a political campaign misjudges the timeline, aggressively burning through its resources, funding and strategic momentum too early in the cycle, it faces structural depletion exactly when the “midnight hour” strikes.The final weeks before an election demand a sustained burn.

When campaign cash runs dry,
when the logistical network fractures, and when the resource reservoir empties, the door of public trust swings shut. No amount of last minute scrambling, desperate donor appeals or rhetorical firefighting can force open an electoral door that required months of steady, disciplined and sustained preparation to enter.

For the Zambian electorate and aspiring leaders alike, this comparison provides a deeply sobering education.
An initial splash or a crowded rally means very little if a campaign lacks the structural resources to carry that weight all the way to the ballot box.

True strategic wisdom lies in planning for the “delay” anticipating institutional bottlenecks, resource fatigue, and a longer, more expensive race than initially hoped.

Political opportunity is often a flitting, one time event. When the hour of the vote arrives, a campaign is either fully prepared to cross the finish line or it is left behind. As the political clock ticks closer to midnight for the Mundubile and Zulu ticket, this parallel reminds us all to look closely at our own reservoirs.

Whether you are managing nation’s resources, guiding a political campaign, or pursuing a personal vision, do not be deceived by the temporary light you hold right now. Ask yourself the hardest question a leader can face: When the final cry sounds, will you have enough oil to finish what you started?

It is correct to say at this stage that Mundubile’s party  has “run out of paraffin to power his lamp” and that their money is finished. They are now shooting in the dark. In short, they have culminated.

The narrative is a clear reminder to the voters of how unprepared this alternative leadership is.