In a case that has captured headlines and sparked heated debate across Zambia, two men have been sentenced to two years in prison with hard labour after being found guilty of plotting to assassinate President Hakainde Hichilema through witchcraft. The ruling, delivered last week, marks the first known instance in Zambia’s history where individuals have been prosecuted for attempting to bewitch a sitting head of state, according to reporting from multiple sources including the BBC and Tekedia.
The men at the center of the case, Leonard Phiri, a 43-year-old Zambian national, and Jasten Mabulesse Candunde, a 42-year-old Mozambican, were arrested in December 2024 in a Lusaka hotel room. Police say their capture came after a hotel cleaner reported hearing strange noises coming from their room. Upon investigation, authorities discovered a live chameleon in a bottle, an animal tail, and a dozen bottles of mysterious concoctions—items that prosecutors argued were intended to cast a deadly spell on President Hichilema.
During the trial, prosecutors alleged that Phiri and Candunde had been hired by a brother of a former lawmaker—described in some reports as a fugitive former Member of Parliament—to perform a ritual meant to end the president’s life. Testimony revealed that Phiri allegedly demonstrated how pricking the chameleon’s tail and using it in a ritual would kill the target within five days. Both men insisted they were legitimate traditional healers, not sorcerers or would-be assassins, but the court was not convinced.
The legal proceedings unfolded under Zambia’s colonial-era Witchcraft Act of 1914, which has rarely been used in such high-profile cases. The law defines practicing witchcraft as pretending to exercise any kind of supernatural power, sorcery, or enchantment with the intent to cause fear, annoyance, or injury. Importantly, it criminalizes the act of professing witchcraft rather than requiring proof of supernatural abilities—a legal nuance that proved pivotal in this case.
Magistrate Fine Mayambu, delivering the verdict, left little doubt about the seriousness with which the court viewed the matter. “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 declared, as reported by Tekedia. The magistrate emphasized that the question before the court was not whether the accused actually possessed supernatural powers, but whether they represented themselves as capable of carrying out acts of witchcraft. “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,” he explained.
Phiri and Candunde were convicted on two counts: professing witchcraft and possessing witchcraft charms. While the court imposed a two-year sentence for professing witchcraft and an additional six months for possessing charms, the sentences will run concurrently, meaning the men will serve a total of two years in prison, starting from their arrest in December 2024.
In a last-ditch effort, the men’s defense lawyer, Agrippa Malando, pleaded with the court to consider a fine instead of jail time, pointing out that his clients were first-time offenders and had shown remorse. Magistrate Mayambu, however, was unmoved. He argued that the severity of their actions warranted imprisonment, especially given the potential for such acts to incite fear and panic in society. He also noted the widespread belief in witchcraft among Zambians—echoed by a 2018 study from the Zambia Law Development Commission, which found that 79% of Zambians believed in witchcraft—as a factor that increased the potential harm of such claims.
This case has thrust Zambia’s Witchcraft Act into the national spotlight. The law, a relic from the colonial era, was originally intended to protect vulnerable people—particularly elderly women in rural areas who are often accused of witchcraft and face mob violence. According to legal expert Dickson Jere, prosecutions under the Act are extremely rare, usually reserved for cases where public safety is at risk. The use of the law against individuals accused of targeting the president has surprised many, marking an unprecedented expansion of its application.
The trial has also reignited broader debates about the role of traditional beliefs in modern Zambian society. While Christianity is the official religion, traditional spiritual practices and beliefs in witchcraft remain deeply ingrained, especially in rural communities. The case has become a flashpoint for discussions about how to balance respect for cultural traditions with the demands of a modern legal system.
President Hichilema himself has previously stated that he does not believe in witchcraft, yet the allegations and subsequent prosecution have triggered an outpouring of public speculation and debate. Some see the case as a necessary assertion of the rule of law, demonstrating that even threats rooted in superstition will be taken seriously when they concern national security. Others argue that the prosecution risks legitimizing fear and superstition, diverting attention from more pressing political and economic issues facing the country.
The context for this case is further complicated by ongoing tensions related to the death of former President Edgar Lungu, who passed away in South Africa in June 2024. Disputes between the government and Lungu’s family over the location of his burial have been marred by rumors of occult motives, with some alleging that officials wish to control the burial site for supernatural reasons—an accusation that government representatives have flatly denied. Lungu’s body remains in a morgue months after his death due to the unresolved dispute, underscoring the enduring power of traditional beliefs in shaping political narratives.
For many observers, the conviction of Phiri and Candunde is more than a legal curiosity; it is a window into the complex interplay between tradition and modernity in Zambia. Magistrate Mayambu’s comments during sentencing reflected this tension, acknowledging the genuine belief in witchcraft held by many Zambians while emphasizing that the law’s purpose is to prevent the fear, panic, and harm that can arise from such beliefs—not to validate or disprove them.
As the two men begin their prison terms, their case will likely be remembered as a legal landmark—the first known prosecution for attempting to bewitch a sitting president in Zambia. Whether it serves as a deterrent or simply fuels further public fascination remains to be seen. What is clear, however, is that the trial has forced Zambia to confront the enduring influence of age-old beliefs in a society striving to modernize, and the difficult questions that arise when those beliefs collide with the imperatives of justice and governance.
The outcome stands as a stark reminder that modernization does not erase belief—and that true progress often requires finding ways to coexist with tradition, without letting it undermine the rule of law or the public’s trust in their institutions.