They Voted for Mealie Meal, Not Handcuffs: A Nation’s Cry to Be Heard- Dr Lawrence Mwelwa

They Voted for Mealie Meal, Not Handcuffs: A Nation’s Cry to Be Heard

By Dr Lawrence Mwelwa

Why did Zambians vote for the UPND?

Was it not because they were tired of the arrogance of power? Was it not because they were suffocating under the weight of unkept promises, corruption, and fear? Was it not because they hoped that a new dawn would bring light—not just for a few—but for the whole village? They voted with faith, not because they believed politics had suddenly grown clean, but because they dared to believe in the lesser evil. But when the lesser evil grows horns, is it still lesser?

Which path should the UPND walk? Is it the road of vengeance, where the fuel is bitterness and the destination is a cycle of retribution? Or the road of nation-building, where leaders wear humility like a robe and justice is blind not selective?

African wisdom tells us: “The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.” In chasing opposition figures with chains of suspicion, you may think you are strengthening the law, but are you not pushing people further away from belief in that very law? When the law begins to look like a trap instead of a shield, even the innocent will run.

They say, “You do not chase a rat in a burning house.” Why focus the strength of government on silencing those with no power, when the economy cries, when hunger bites, when hospitals run out of drugs and hope? When a government chooses to imprison critics instead of liberating citizens from poverty, is it not the people who become prisoners in their own country?

You were not elected to avenge wounds. You were not sent to State House to punish past opponents. You were not given the mandate to turn democracy into a courtroom drama. You were given a burden—to build. To restore. To heal. “When two elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers.” And right now, it is the Zambian people who lie flat beneath the stomping feet of political war.

What is more powerful: a press conference announcing an arrest, or a mother waking up to find mealie meal affordable again? What is more enduring: the applause at a rally, or the quiet dignity of a father able to send his child to school without begging? You must choose. Between the politics of punishment and the politics of progress. Between noise and impact. Between the shadow of victory and its substance.

Zambia is a drum. It echoes what you strike it with. If you strike it with fear, it will return silence. If you strike it with service, it will sing your name. But if you strike it with cruelty masked as law, it will remember—and drums never forget.

You can’t plant maize and expect to harvest groundnuts. You can’t preach unity and water the soil with division. You can’t speak of transformation and yet build your legacy on the broken dreams of your enemies.

Zambians voted for a promise. Fulfill it.

That is the only justice they ever wanted.

©️Zambian Whistleblower