During the past three decades, every Zambian president has amended the Constitution as elections approached, always in the name of democracy, but often for political reasons. These changes have repeatedly shaped the political landscape, from term limits to electoral laws.
Now, with the 2026 Presidential elections on the horizon, the cycle and circus continue.
With the draft constitution now released, a clearer question emerges: Is this truly about deepening democracy—or simply reshaping the rules of the game to benefit those already in power?
On 26th March, 2025, the UPND Government released the proposed constitutional amendments and its roadmap to amend the Constitution of Zambia (Amendment) Act No. 2 of 2016. Contrary to prior concerns made by opposition political parties, the proposal does not suggest eliminating the 50%+1 electoral threshold, which is viewed as critical for promoting legitimacy in presidential elections.
This omission allayed worries of a direct constitutional coup. However, rather than assuring stakeholders, the draft’s contents have raised new concerns, most notably the decision to increase the number of nominated members of parliament (MPs).
Article 68(2)(b) of the Zambian Constitution (Amendment) Act No. 2 of 2016 provides for the nomination of eight nominated Members of Parliament. The draft amendment constitution recommends that the President appoint as many MPs as prescribed by an Act of Parliament. This means that instead of a fixed cap (a maximum of 8 MPs), a number is introduced which can be increased or decreased through ordinary legislation (simple majority).
This concept has significant ramifications for democratic governance. One of the most pressing worries is the potential loss of Parliament’s independence as a check on executive power.
Consider a referee who decides, mid-game, that they should also be a player. Worse, they empower themselves to rewrite the rules whenever they choose. That is precisely what the proposed constitutional change, under the leadership of Hakainde Hichilema, aims to accomplish. The amendments do not promote a “fairer and more inclusive democracy.”
It’s about power.
It gives Parliament—and specifically the executive branch of Parliament in the House—the authority to extend the legislature at whim, unregulated and uncontested. It undermines the separation of powers, making MPs both rule-makers and the primary beneficiaries. If passed, it will be one of the most legally reckless moves in Zambia’s constitutional history—one that threatens the very foundation of democracy.
Under the current system, the President can appoint up to eight MPs, which is a constitutional limit. This acts as a check on excessive presidential involvement in the legislative process. In a political setting where the ruling party frequently has a parliamentary majority, such a shift dramatically blurs the distinction between the executive and the legislature, jeopardizing institutional balance and eroding the integrity of democratic scrutiny.
Furthermore, increasing the number of unelected, presidentially selected MPs undermines the concept of popular representation. In a representative democracy, Parliament’s legitimacy originates from its members being elected by the people. Appointed MPs, despite providing expertise, do not have a democratic mandate. Expanding their representation in the National Assembly risks marginalizing the voices of voters.
If the number of nominated MPs can be changed through ordinary legislation, the nomination process could become a tool for rewarding political allies and consolidating power rather than promoting public interest—creating a fertile ground for clientelism and corruption, where appointments are made based on loyalty rather than merit or representation of marginalized groups. Without strict constitutional guidelines or transparency mechanisms, the process is vulnerable to abuse, further entrenching executive dominance in the legislative sphere.
The proposed shift from a constitutionally protected ceiling to one defined by ordinary legislation represents a regression in democratic safeguards. Constitutional limits exist to restrain the exercise of power by providing fixed, high-threshold protections.
Relegating the determination of such a critical number to an Act of Parliament weakens these protections, especially since ordinary laws can be passed or repealed with a simple majority, without the rigorous public debate and consensus required for constitutional amendments.
Without a constitutional cap or criteria, this provision could be used to fill Parliament with loyalists under the pretense of inclusion or expertise. This open-ended formulation raises serious red flags because it gives the ruling party, which holds a parliamentary majority, potentially unchecked discretion to expand nominated seats, opening the door for executive overreach and the dilution of elected representation.
While the government portrays the constitutional modifications as a progressive step toward increasing the participation of women, youth, and people with disabilities through proportional representation, the reality is far more nuanced. Proportional representation is being utilized as political cover—a bargaining tool to force more contentious policies that centralize power.
By linking inclusive representation to the entire amendment package, the government has made it politically difficult to oppose the draft without appearing to oppose excluded groups. This strategic framing enables the ruling party to portray critics as anti-women, anti-youth, or anti-inclusion, effectively stifling criticism while concealing the underlying intent: altering Zambia’s democratic framework to benefit those in power.
The solidarity of civil society has been shattered by this state-sponsored narrative. Student unions, women’s rights organizations, youth networks, and disability coalitions—groups that would normally work together on advocacy and lobbying—are now divided.
Others in the civil society arena are vehemently against the revisions, despite the fact that some women’s and student organizations have publicly endorsed them. This division is not coincidental; rather, it is the outcome of a calculated narrative that juxtaposes accountability with inclusivity.
The Civil Society Coalition in Zambia, along with the Law Association of Zambia (LAZ), has raised concerns that the proposed clause could significantly alter the composition and balance of power within Parliament. Instead of promoting fairer representation, it risks entrenching partisan control. The vague wording of the provision, combined with the lack of a transparent and participatory public process, makes it particularly vulnerable to misuse.
Similarly, the three church mother bodies—the Council of Churches in Zambia (CCZ), the Zambia Conference of Catholic Bishops (ZCCB), and the Evangelical Fellowship of Zambia (EFZ)—have firmly rejected President Hakainde Hichilema’s proposal to amend the Constitution before the 2026 general elections.
Some women’s rights organizations, eager to see proportional representation implemented, are willing to disregard the draft constitution’s broader consequences. For them, the fact that Zambia has finally adopted proportional representation appears to outweigh the dangers of enacting an amendment package that may erode democratic checks and balances. In doing so, they risk adopting reforms that go well beyond inclusivity, potentially tilting the balance of power and undermining Zambia’s constitutional democracy.
It is particularly sad that Zambia’s main coordinating organization on gender issues, the Non-Governmental Gender Organizations’ Coordinating Council (NGOCC), has endorsed the constitutional modifications while being well aware of their larger ramifications. NGOCC has long been regarded as the spearhead of Zambia’s women’s rights movement.
Its decision to support a method that has been widely criticized for eroding democratic accountability raises severe concerns. Why has NGOCC chosen to be on the wrong side of democracy? Is there another reason, besides proportional representation, why it aligns with the ruling party’s agenda?
NGOCC and similar groups may gain a technical victory on proportional representation by supporting these modifications—but at what price? If passed, the women’s rights movement could have to contend with an even more firmly established power structure that undermines the democratic safeguards that allow for true equality while appropriating the rhetoric of inclusion. In the absence of democratic integrity, proportional representation is only symbolic. A system built to consolidate power and stifle criticism cannot support true representation.
This pattern is not unique to Zambia; governments all over the world have learned to use inclusion as political cover for deeply undemocratic reforms. In Uganda, the regime of President Yoweri Museveni aggressively pushed for women’s representation through constitutional quotas, guaranteeing that each district had a female MP. Although this action made Uganda a continental leader in women’s parliamentary representation, the larger political picture reveals that Museveni also undermined democratic safeguards, eliminating presidential term limits in 2005 and the age limit for presidential candidates in 2017, thereby securing his indefinite rule.
The increase in female political participation became a convenient talking point—used to portray the government as progressive and democratic on the international stage—while domestic political space shrank. Women MPs, many of whom owe their seats to the ruling party’s structures, were often reluctant to challenge executive overreach. As a result, representation became symbolic rather than transformative, absorbed into a broader machinery of state control. Uganda’s example shows that representation without structural checks and balances merely adds a democratic façade to authoritarianism.
Zambia runs the risk of doing the same. The commendable objective of promoting inclusion, through proportional representation and increased participation of women, youth, and people with disabilities—is the foundation of the current draft constitutional revisions, but this is a political tactic masquerading as democracy.
The constitutional amendments are not genuinely aimed at promoting the inclusion of women, persons with disabilities, and youth in Parliament. Instead, they serve as a strategy for the ruling party to entrench its power, using proportional representation as a bargaining chip rather than a tool for meaningful democratic reform.
Proportional representation is being used as a negotiating chip, a means of securing assent while undermining the same institutions that guarantee equitable governance. Democracy entails more than simply a place at the table. Any modifications to the number of nominated MPs must be carefully constrained by constitutional protections that place a high priority on accountability, openness, and inclusion in order to preserve Zambia’s democratic advancements.
The integrity of democracy should not be sacrificed for flexibility.
Mzeziti Crecencia Mwanza is a Governance, Elections & Human Rights Specialist.
