By Brilliant Pongo | Former Zambian President Edgar Lungu lies in death as he did in life – at the centre of political division, and constitutional debate. His passing in South Africa has become more than a family tragedy; it has become a national spectacle and a test of Zambia’s soul.
Reports reveal a stark reality: the Zambian government has taken the Lungu family to court to prevent them from burying him in South Africa, insisting he be buried in Zambia with state honours. The family’s wishes and the state’s demands stand in direct opposition.
This raises a profound question: Who owns a former President in death – the family or the nation?

The Meaning of a State Funeral.
A state funeral is more than a ceremonial farewell. It is a powerful political and cultural ritual where a nation reclaims the deceased as its own. The draped flag, the gun salutes, the military pallbearers, and the national mourning period – all these are symbols that transcend personal grief. They are public statements that this life, this legacy, belonged to the people.
But herein lies the disagreement. A person does not cease to be a father, husband, or brother simply because they held the highest office. Their body becomes a contested site between state honour and family dignity.
Zambia’s Constitutional Stance.
Zambia’s constitution and national protocols empower the government to accord former Presidents state funerals. The underlying logic is simple: the office they held was not personal; it was national. Their burial becomes a symbolic reaffirmation of state continuity and national identity.
Yet the same constitution does not strip families of their cultural rights. There is no explicit clause to forcibly override family wishes. Burial, in African tradition, remains a sacred family matter, even if that family is the nation.
Why Does the Family Want South Africa?
The Lungu family’s preference to bury him in South Africa remains only partly explained. Perhaps it is practical, perhaps emotional, or perhaps it is a silent protest against a state they feel did not respect him in life. What is clear is that this preference has unleashed deeper political currents between President Hakainde Hichilema’s administration and Lungu’s supporters.
The African Mirror – Mugabe and Smith
This dispute is not new in southern Africa. We witnessed it with Ian Smith, Rhodesia’s former Prime Minister. Smith died in South Africa in 2007. There was no state funeral. His ashes were quietly scattered on his family farm in Zimbabwe. The Zimbabwean state under Robert Mugabe chose to let his passing slip by with no national recognition.
Ironically, when Robert Mugabe himself died in 2019, the tables turned. His family refused to let the state bury him at the National Heroes Acre in Harare. They feared his legacy would be manipulated in death as it was in life. After bitter public wrangling, the family prevailed, and Mugabe was buried in his rural village of Kutama, despite intense government pressure.
Both cases show one truth: burial is political.
Why This Matters.
The question is not merely about Edgar Lungu’s resting place. It is about power, ownership, dignity, and memory. If the state insists on burial in Zambia against the family’s will, it reasserts its authority but risks trampling family traditions. If the family prevails, it may embolden future families to disregard national symbolism.
Ultimately, in Africa, burial is the final act of storytelling. Where a man is buried, and how, defines how he is remembered. Will Lungu be remembered as a national leader accorded the final salute, or as a father whose family’s wishes were honoured against all odds?
In the end, perhaps both the state and the family must recognise that death demands humility. It is not a platform for settling political scores. It is the final stage where a human being must be allowed to rest – with dignity, honour, and peace.
That is what Edgar Lungu deserves.
Brilliant Pongo is a journalist, poet, and social commentator based in the United Kingdom.