In a case that has captivated Zambia and drawn international attention, two men have been sentenced to two years in prison for attempting to use witchcraft to assassinate President Hakainde Hichilema. The verdict, delivered in Lusaka by Magistrate Fine Mayambu, marks the first time in Zambian history that individuals have been tried for allegedly using supernatural means against a sitting president. The proceedings have ignited debate about the persistence of witchcraft beliefs, the colonial-era laws still on the books, and the tense political climate enveloping the country.
Leonard Phiri, a Zambian village chief, and Jasten Mabulesse Candunde, a Mozambican national, were arrested in December 2024 after a cleaner reported hearing strange noises. According to BBC News and Nova News, police found the men in possession of a live chameleon, a red cloth, an unidentified white powder, an animal's tail, and other amulets. Prosecutors alleged that Phiri and Candunde had been recruited by the brother of opposition MP Emmanuel "Jay Jay" Banda, himself facing serious criminal charges, to bewitch President Hichilema.
During the trial, the accused insisted they were authentic traditional healers, not would-be assassins. However, the court was unconvinced. Magistrate Mayambu, in his ruling, declared, "It is my considered view that the convicts were not only the enemy of the head of state but were also enemies of all Zambians." He further explained, "The two accepted ownership of the charms. Phiri further demonstrated that the chameleon's tail, once pricked and used in the ritual, would cause death to occur within five days." The magistrate’s words, echoed across Zambian media, underscored the seriousness with which the court viewed the threat—even if the efficacy of such rituals remains unproven by science.
The men were convicted under Zambia’s Witchcraft Act, a law dating back to 1914 when the country was still under British colonial rule. As lawyer Dickson Jere told BBC News, prosecutions under the Act are "very rarely" pursued, but the law is seen as a means to protect society from fear and harm associated with witchcraft claims. Magistrate Mayambu elaborated, "The law was designed to protect society from the fear and harm caused by those who claim to have the power to perform acts of witchcraft." The magistrate clarified that the court’s concern was not whether the accused actually possessed supernatural powers: "The question is not whether the accused are wizards or actually possess supernatural powers. It is whether they represented themselves as such, and the evidence clearly shows they did."
In addition to the two-year sentence for "professing" witchcraft, Phiri and Candunde received an extra six months behind bars for possession of talismans and charms. Because the sentences will run concurrently, the total time to be served is two years, effective from their arrest in December 2024. Notably, the sentence includes hard labour, a detail reported by TV360 Nigeria, which adds a layer of severity to the punishment.
Defense lawyer Agrippa Malando pleaded for leniency, arguing that his clients were first-time offenders and should be fined rather than imprisoned. The court, however, rejected this request. The case, as Nova News reported, was closely watched across Zambia—both for its novelty and for the underlying issues it brought to the surface.
Belief in witchcraft remains widespread in Zambia and much of Africa, even as such practices are not scientifically substantiated. The Witchcraft Act, while rarely enforced, continues to exist as a tool for authorities to address cases where individuals claim supernatural powers or incite fear through witchcraft. According to BBC News, the law has historically served another function as well: protecting vulnerable populations, such as elderly women, from vigilante justice in rural communities where accusations of witchcraft can lead to violence.
The political context around the trial has only heightened its significance. President Hichilema, who has publicly stated that he does not believe in witchcraft, has not commented on the case. Yet the timing is notable. As reported by TV360 Nigeria, his administration faces mounting criticism for what rights groups like Human Rights Watch describe as "authoritarian tendencies," including the harassment of journalists, youth activists, and opposition figures. With national elections looming in 2026, analysts say the president’s moves to appoint allies to the election commission and alter constitutional rules have raised concerns about the consolidation of power.
Meanwhile, the specter of witchcraft has surfaced in another contentious arena: the unresolved dispute over the burial of former president Edgar Lungu. Lungu, who died in South Africa in June 2025, remains in a morgue as his family and the government spar over funeral arrangements. Some in Zambia speculate—without evidence—that the government’s insistence on a state funeral in Zambia may be motivated by "occult reasons," a claim the government has flatly denied. The family, for its part, has opposed plans for a state funeral, maintaining that Lungu did not want President Hichilema to attend. A South African court is currently considering whether the family can appeal a decision ordering the body’s return to Zambia.
The case of Phiri and Candunde has also reignited debate over the appropriateness of colonial-era laws in a modern African democracy. Rights groups have long criticized the Witchcraft Act for its vagueness and potential for abuse, especially in politically charged cases. The fact that the prosecution’s narrative involved an alleged plot orchestrated by associates of an opposition MP only adds to the sense of intrigue and suspicion. As TV360 Nigeria noted, the case unfolded at a "sensitive political moment," with the government facing accusations of using the courts to silence dissent.
Yet, for many Zambians, the trial is less about high politics and more about the enduring power of belief—and the dangers that can arise when those beliefs intersect with the machinery of the state. Whether the case will serve as a deterrent, a warning, or a catalyst for legal reform remains to be seen. What is certain is that, for now, the two men at the heart of this extraordinary story will spend the next two years behind bars, their fate sealed by a law whose origins lie in a very different era.
As Zambia grapples with questions of tradition, justice, and the rule of law, the country’s courts—and its citizens—are left to ponder the boundaries between belief and crime, and the enduring legacy of its colonial past.