05/06/2026
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๐๐ฒ ๐๐ข๐๐ก๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐จ๐ฆ๐๐
In an age where loyalty is often measured by political convenience and public service is increasingly viewed through the narrow lens of personal gain, an extraordinary scene unfolded at State House this week.
It was not a military parade. There were no marching battalions, no fly-pasts and no ceremonial displays of force. Yet the gathering of Zambia's former Defence and Security Service Chiefs delivered one of the most powerful demonstrations of patriotism seen in recent years.
One by one, they arrived.
Some walked slowly. Others leaned on canes. Age had inevitably left its mark on men who once commanded battalions, directed intelligence operations and carried the immense responsibility of safeguarding Zambia's sovereignty. Their hair had greyed, their steps had shortened, and for some, the years could be seen in the careful manner in which they navigated the corridors of State House.
But they came.
They came not because they were seeking office. They came not because they were pursuing contracts, appointments or political relevance. They came because Zambia called.
Then came a moment that quietly captured the essence of their service.
As the Commander-in-Chief entered, these elderly veterans rose to their feet. Men who moments earlier appeared burdened by age suddenly straightened their backs. Canes were momentarily forgotten. Limbs that had seemed weary found renewed strength.
With remarkable vigour and precision, they stood to attention and rendered a salute.
It was a simple military gesture, but it carried profound meaning.
The salute was not directed merely at an individual occupying high office. It was a salute to the Constitution. A salute to the Republic. A salute to the enduring institution of the Zambian State.
In that instant, one could see the distinction between loyalty to a nation and loyalty to transient political interests.
These former service chiefs represented decades of institutional memory. They have served under different Presidents, different governments and different political climates. Yet throughout those changes, their allegiance remained fixed on one constant: Zambia.
That is why their presence at State House carried significance far beyond a courtesy call.
It was an affirmation of continuity.
It was an expression of solidarity with the Republic.
It was a declaration that service to Zambia does not end with retirement.
As President Hakainde Hichilema correctly observed, retirement is merely a change of station. The uniform may be removed, but the oath remains etched into the hearts of those who have devoted their lives to defending their country.
This noble tradition stands in stark contrast to those who, after leaving public office, have chosen a different path.
The past intelligence chief Xavier Chungu remains one of the most controversial examples in Zambia's security history. Regardless of one's political sympathies, his decision to publicly divulge sensitive aspects of intelligence operations and state security matters represented a troubling departure from the unwritten code that binds security professionals long after they leave office.
Across the world, intelligence and security institutions depend heavily on trust, discretion and confidentiality. Nations entrust their security chiefs with secrets not because they belong to particular administrations, but because they belong to the State itself.
When such information is exposed for political expediency or personal battles, the consequences extend beyond individual reputations. The credibility of institutions is weakened, operational methods are compromised, and national security interests may be placed at risk.
The gathering at State House therefore offered a valuable lesson.
The true measure of a soldier is not merely how bravely he fights in uniform. It is how faithfully he continues to honour his oath long after the uniform is gone.
The former Defence and Security Chiefs who assembled this week demonstrated precisely that principle. Their collective presence reflected discipline, restraint, loyalty and patriotism. They reminded the nation that service is not a temporary assignment but a lifelong commitment.
In a world increasingly defined by division, Zambia witnessed something refreshing: retired men and women of service placing country above self.
Their canes may testify to advancing years.
Their slower steps may reveal the passage of time.
But their unwavering commitment to Zambia remains unbroken.
And when history records this gathering, it may well remember not the speeches that were made, but the powerful image of ageing patriots pulling themselves upright, standing proudly to attention and saluting the Republic they spent their lives protecting.
That salute spoke louder than words.
It spoke for Zambia.
