Charles Mafa

Sell Outs | Zambia

A corrupt political class

While many reports expose how multinationals have appropriated natural wealth on the cheap, polluted communities, and exploited workers, the facilitation of it all by powerful African political elites has not been highlighted as much. Zambia’s chapter of ZAM’s new transnational investigation into Africa’s Sell-Outs focuses on a long-standing tradition of mining license interference by politicians in past and present ruling parties.

Suddenly, the gold mining company representative turns hostile. “Who sent you? Is it the (opposition) Patriotic Front?” he asks, his tone growing sharper. The shift from amiable agreement to defensiveness is surprising, as no probing question has yet been asked in this interview about mining in Rufunsa—an area east of the capital, Lusaka—where the man’s company, Gold Hunters, is active. The distrust is indicative of the mining environment in Zambia, where powerful ruling party members, ministry officials, local chiefs, and foreign investors are all eternally scrambling for the richest pickings.

A well-connected man

Meeting for the interview in Lusaka’s Woodlands Mall, right next door to the Woodlands police station, the man had first asked that we wait “for his lawyer to arrive.” But when the lawyer, along with another associate, did arrive, the man began angrily interrogating me. After a tense exchange, in which I denied being linked to any political or other party with mining interests, the Gold Hunters man agreed to proceed with the interview—only to interrupt it again, twice, challenging me to “report him to the police if I wished.” He claimed he didn’t care whether I did or not, because he was “a well-connected man.”

Throughout this, the two other men remained calm, occasionally stepping in with reconciliatory words to de-escalate the situation. Their manner, however, and the way the main representative brandished his connections—including claiming he worked at a law firm belonging to a Zambian ambassador—made me think that, rather than I being linked to the opposition, it was they who had the political connections; likely to Zambia’s ruling UPND party.

The dicey question was the real ownership of the mine

It was becoming dicey to put my main question to the three men, which was about the real ownership of Gold Hunters—and whether the ambassador who owned the first man’s law firm was involved. During an earlier visit to Rufunsa, members of a local cooperative had told me that they, not Gold Hunters, owned the license to mine there, and also that the true owners of the mine were not the ones who appeared on the documents—among them the representative I was meeting. (1). 

But I asked it anyway, and that’s when the man threatened to assault me: “You’re here with leading questions, not to learn. I won’t allow it. If you continue, I’ll tear your notebook,” he warned. I tried to ask another question, but he reacted again. “You see, your questions don’t sound like you just want to know—they sound like you’ve been sent,” he said, before tearing a page from my notebook where I had been scribbling notes from our conversation.

These people officially represent law firms or consulting companies

The conflict with the local cooperatives originates from overlapping licences: Gold Hunters holds small-scale mining licence number 37439-HQ-SML in Kabombo, Rufunsa, while several local cooperatives have been granted artisanal mining licences for the same land. The situation, where influence peddling and exploitation converge with what appears to be simple chaos in the mining department, is illustrative of how Zambia’s rich mineral resources are exploited.

The connected few exercise their influence on all levels. At the top, they operate between government authorities and big global mining houses like Anglo-Swiss Glencore, Australian First Quantum Minerals, US-based Barrick Gold, and Indian-UK Vedanta. A former ambassador to Zambia from one of the Western countries, who has been involved in high-level negotiations that led to Vedanta Resources regaining control of Konkola Copper Mines (2), highlights—speaking on condition of anonymity—how it works. “There are always go-betweens with strong ties to senior government officials, ruling party insiders, or influential businesspeople,” he says. “These people officially represent law firms or consulting companies. They call themselves technical advisors but act as intermediaries.”

Private consultations

He explains that, through them, a foreign investor acquires access to people in the Ministry of Mines and Minerals Development, the Ministry of Finance, the Zambia Environmental Management Agency, and the Zambia Development Agency. This access expedites licence approvals and can even shape regulatory decisions or influence mining policy in one’s favour.  “This gets you exploration licences and environmental project approvals for large-scale mining permits. The lobbyists ensure that applications are properly prepared, timed, and aligned with regulatory expectations to avoid costly delays. They also help navigate regulatory issues by influencing mining policy, tax frameworks, or regulatory incentives themselves. They may engage in private consultations, submit position papers, or help shape draft legislation that benefits specific investors.”

“Sometimes they also coordinate discreet political donations”

The “favourable terms” resulting from this process, including tax breaks, regulatory exemptions, or preferential access to land controlled by traditional leaders, “are typically negotiated in informal settings, outside of public scrutiny,” he says. He then adds that the lobbyists may also advise clients to invest in so-called “corporate social responsibility” projects—such as funding schools, clinics, or infrastructure in mining areas. “In some cases, they also coordinate discreet political donations or sponsorships.”

US$ 2,5 billion gone in two years

According to the World Bank’s 2025 Zambia Poverty and Equity Assessment Report, poverty in Zambia affected 64,3% of the population in 2022. According to the same report, the country in the same year remained among the most unequal, with a GINI coefficient of 51,5, indicating that while a large portion of the population lives in poverty, a smaller portion controls a disproportionately large share of the wealth. Commenting on X in early 2025, Zambian former Attorney General Musa Mwenye expressed his dismay about this continuing “mark of shame,” saying: “This should be a wake-up call for the nation. How can so many people be so poor in a resource-rich country where we boast of mines opening left, right, and centre? How can any of us be proud to lead a nation where so many citizens go to bed hungry?” Mwenye, a senior lawyer and former Anti-Corruption Commission Board Chairperson, added that, according to the 2023 Financial Intelligence Centre report, “Between 2021 and 2023, some companies with Zambian shareholders illicitly externalised US$2,5 billion to Asia alone.”

Kanyelele Mine in Mpika, Muchinga Province. Image by Linda Soko

Unequal playing field 

Local businesses—that is, genuine, non-political-fronting ones—cannot even dream of starting a mining operation on their own in Zambia, one of the mineral-richest countries in the world. The main reason for this is the cost of business licensing, which, at close to US$3,000, is way higher than the small-scale artisanal licence of the local equivalent of US$33. “Only foreigners can afford this,” explains a lawyer who often draws up contracts for foreign-local mining deals and who also asked to remain anonymous. As for artisanal miners, “holders of such mining licences often lack the capacity for full-scale production.” Therefore, both artisanal cooperatives and local companies must bring in outside financiers.

He adds that, in these foreign-local partnerships, serious locals—even if they contribute real value in terms of expert skills or knowledge of the terrain—often lose out. Pointing to a draft agreement he is working on between a foreign and a local company for a joint mining venture, the lawyer says: “You can see that the foreign company is offering a loan of over US$50,000 to the new entity.” Explaining that such loan arrangements give the foreign investor significant control, with the debt often structured to prioritise repayment, he concludes that this limits the local partner’s decision-making power, cements inequality, and thereby sidelines local interest. “With such a deal, you already know there’s nothing in it for the locals.”

There’s nothing in such deals for the locals

The problem is again compounded by interference from those who, with their ‘connections’, pressure foreign investors to choose them or their agents as ‘local partners’.  Despite a new government coming to power in 2021 amid promises to regulate the mining sector and in particular its licensing system, investors seemingly remain vulnerable to the discretion of the officials responsible for issuing the licences. While ZAM has reported on individual mining department officials themselves holding licenses, the lawyer adds that what happened in the Gold Hunters case in Rufunsa is common: “In my experience, too, officials have sometimes issued multiple licences for the same location.” In that situation, the strongest connection simply tends to win.

 

A man from the ministry

An earlier report for ZAM from author Charles Mafa’s Makanday investigative centre highlights a case where state mining department officials got their hands directly on mining operations. Quoting local Chief Katyetye, who had tried to research prospective owners in the mining project in his area, Isoka in northern Zambia, Makanday reported that one of the directors at an entity competing with the Chief’s first choice was an engineer at the Ministry of Mines called Willy Chilufya, and another was called Annie Zulu. In the report, Chilufya commented that: “The mere fact that one is within the Ministry does not prevent them from obtaining a license.” He added that, “in order to avoid unnecessary scrutiny arising from the misinterpretation of the law,” he had “relinquished (his) position as a director and shareholder in that company.” However, a later search of PACRA records showed that he was still a shareholder. Annie Zulu was never found. The mining ownership in Isoka remains unresolved.

Chiefs and cadres

In rural areas, such battles often play out around either local political party cadres or traditional Chiefs, who are regularly accepted as authorities when it comes to mining permits in their communities. Both, the lawyer says, “can easily be influenced through various means,” and “a range of self-serving actors, foreign and local,” simply buzz around the opportunities this provides. Indeed, in the Gold Hunters case, local miners claim that local Chief Shikabeta is cashing in from both the artisanal cooperative and the politically connected company: they say Shikabeta receives monthly payments of 1,000 Kwacha (US$36) from the artisanal side, as well as a share of the 40% milling tax imposed by Gold Hunters on the gold it buys from the locals. (Chief Shikabeta declined to respond to these allegations.)

A Chinese associate, a ruling party member and a Toyota Prado

In a case followed for a couple of years by the Makanday Investigative Centre in Zambia, Ugandan investor Jeduthun Nakina and his Kenyan wife, Doreen Mutegi, who arrived in Zambia in 2019 with Chinese business associates and plans to invest in a manganese mine in Mkushi, about 350 kilometres northeast of Lusaka, had to leave the country after losing their mining equipment, being arrested on frivolous charges, and their plans coming to nought.  The East African couple’s main problem, Makanday’s investigations indicated, was not having the right connections. Soon after their arrival, their Chinese partners abandoned the couple for a new partnership with a Zambia-based, Zambian ruling party-connected (3), fellow Chinese national. Together, they seized vital company mining equipment worth more than US$350,000.


Jeduthun Nakina. Image by Charles Mafa

Nakina and Mutegi reported the theft to the authorities but received no tangible assistance. Instead, in 2021, Liu Yuye accused them of stealing shares, leading to Nakina and his wife being arrested and branded “undesirable aliens,” with a seven-day deadline to leave Zambia. Before the deadline elapsed, however, Home Affairs reversed the order—an action suggesting that the government also regarded Yuye’s accusation as unfounded and possibly malicious.

According to locals who briefly worked for the Mkushi project, the authorities’ partiality in the case was linked to Yuye’s ruling party connections. Several workers told Makanday that Yuye “boasted about his connections with officials and ruling party members” and that he had gifted party member, then Serenje municipal council chairman Chester Kasonde, a company vehicle—a Toyota Prado. They also said that local police in Mkushi were shielding Yuye.  “When I went to report to the police, the commissioner told me, ‘You can’t fight the Chinese,’” Nakina says.  When asked for comment, Kasonde only told Makanday that it should “find out from the one who gave (us) the information.”  Where the equipment now is, is unclear: according to locals, it has been moved to another mining location, while Yuye says it is held by the judicial authorities, a claim Makanday was unable to verify.  “If you say I have grabbed anything, that is a very false accusation,” Yuye commented when asked.

In Mkushi, where locals once hoped for employment and development, a metal gate—with a few gaping holes beyond it—remains, surrounded by heaps of brown earth and overgrown grass. Nakina and his wife have returned to Uganda.

In an interview, Ministry of Mines and Minerals Development Permanent Secretary Hapenga Kabeta told ZAM that he expects the “formalisation of illegal mining” to solve all problems. He explained that Chiefs, or any local representatives or players, are not authorised to issue licenses, emphasizing that “all licensing is done by the department.” In the same interview, he announced that he “will be seeking authority for the establishment of a Mineral Resources Protective Unit,” which would provide “standby law enforcement” in all major mining areas to “monitor illegal activities.”

When asked about the influence of partisan political players on mining rights, he responded only that “all such people are citizens with the same rights as other citizens.” Follow-up questions regarding the risk of double or fraudulent licensing by officials within the mineral department went unanswered.

“The real issue is a corrupt political class”

A former senior officer in the Ministry of Mines, now a mining consultant who requested anonymity, states that the real issue is “a corrupt political class.” These “selfish politicians and their agents,” he says, “make it difficult for the ministry to function properly, constantly interfering in the issuance of licences and demanding that these licences be granted to them through their business partners.”

Quiet NGOs

According to the same lawyer interviewed above, transparency and accountability initiatives introduced in Zambia over the past two decades have offered some hope for change. “At least now, with the online mapping portal, you can see where multiple mining licenses have been issued in the same area.”

However, it is the follow-up—or lack thereof—on cases of double or questionable licensing where the problem appears to lie. In the past, civil society organisations would organise protests, but since the opposition party UPND’s victory in 2021—which brought many NGO-linked individuals into government—this sector has quietened considerably. In a telephone call with ZAM, Ian Mwiinga, head of Zambia’s branch of the World Bank and EU-funded NGO Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative (ZEITI), said that his office has “no perception” of the data it collects and therefore cannot comment on any issues with the mining licensing system. Mwiinga referred to the website, which shows statistics and graphs on licensing and revenue, “for your own analysis,” and repeatedly stated that ZEITI’s work on “transparency and accountability” is solely “to inform the public debate,” and nothing more. He declined to engage in any discussion about what these statistics and graphs might indicate, much less how one could detect doubles, forgeries, or political favouritism.

The transparency initiative has “no perception”

Asked how his organisation then sees its mission, stated on its website as “to ensure that natural resources improve the lives of all citizens,” and its work to “identify issues that need to be addressed,” Mwiinga laughed and told ZAM simply once again to “access and use the data on the website.”

Similarly, Nsama Chikwanka, the coordinator of the Zambian office of the Publish What You Pay mining initiative (also a ZEITI member), told ZAM that the government nowadays “satisfactorily resolves” problems where these occur. “Such cases (of fraudulent licensing) often have to do with people lying on their application forms. Of course, corruption may be an element. But we put it on the table, and it is sorted out.” Asked how it is possible that stories about exploitation of communities continue to arise, he laughed and said that “journalists must write their stories.” 

Illegal mining leaves locals better off

Whether Permanent Mining Secretary Hapenga Kabeta’s plans to institute “standby law enforcement” to “stamp out illegal mining” will be successful any time soon remains to be seen. The Gold Hunters’ dispute with local cooperatives shows, after all, that artisanal mining, with all its environmental and safety hazards, is often still preferable to locals seeking a livelihood than going the official way. The cooperative miners told ZAM that they received more for their gold findings from illegal gold traders (the equivalent of US$39 per gram without taxation) than they would if they would work for Gold Hunters, who, they say, enforces a fixed price of US$36 per gram, which is then subject to a 40% tax, leaving miners with only US$21 per transaction.

In a country where many, especially people in the rural areas where mining takes place, are desperately poor, these are strong incentives: particularly in a context where the lavish proceeds from licensed mining remain in the hands of a connected few.

Notes

(1) Officially, Gold Hunters is registered to a Somalian national and three Zambians in a routine licensing partnership between Zambian and foreign parties. Both Gold Hunters and the cooperatives declined to comment on the record.

(2) Vedanta’s return as owners of KCM in 2023 followed a drawn-out five-year legal and political dispute in which the government seized the company’s assets, accusing it of failing to meet its investment commitments. A settlement that committed Vedanta to injecting approximately US$1.2 billion to revive operations and paying US$245.75 million to settle outstanding debts saw its ownership restored.

(3) The ruling party connection in this case refers to a different ruling party: before 2021, it was the Patriotic Front; after 2021, it is the UPND, which had previously been in opposition.

See the first instalments in this Transnational Investigation here
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