The principle that no one is above the law is a cornerstone of any democratic society. This fundamental tenet has been thrust into the spotlight in Zambia following the legal scrutiny of Archbishop Alick Banda by the country’s law enforcement agencies. Good Governance and Human Rights Activist Sikaile C. Sikaile, a 2026 aspiring Member of Parliament for Sichifulo Constituency, has articulated a forceful argument that this case is not an attack on an institution, but a necessary application of justice to an individual.
Sikaile’s central thesis is unambiguous: “Archbishop Alick Banda is not Jesus Christ to be spared by the country’s laws.” This provocative statement underscores a critical distinction often lost in politically charged environments—the separation between an individual’s alleged actions and the institution they represent. He argues that conflating the two is a logical fallacy and, in his words, a mark of a “criminal mindset” aimed at obfuscating the real issue of alleged corruption.
To understand the weight of this moment, one must appreciate the historical context Sikaile provides. The Catholic Church in Zambia has long been a formidable voice for social justice, acting as a moral compass and a check on power. During the struggles of the Patriotic Front (PF) administration from 2016 to 2021, the Church was a vocal critic of human rights abuses and corruption. Sikaile notes his own collaboration with Catholic leaders during this period to hold the government accountable, which informs his “respect” for the institution.
This history makes the current allegations against a senior church figure particularly jarring. The case, as presented, involves Archbishop Banda being found in possession of government properties allegedly “stolen or criminally obtained” during the previous regime. The matter is now sub judice, but the public discourse surrounding it raises profound questions about moral consistency and leadership.
The Danger of Conflating Individual and Institution
Sikaile warns against a dangerous narrative: using one leader’s alleged misconduct as a “reference point for judging all Catholic leaders.” This, he states, is “absolutely wrong.” The attempt to frame law enforcement actions as a “government fight against the Catholic Church” is, in his view, a cynical political tactic. It seeks to mobilize religious sentiment as a shield against accountability, thereby undermining the very rule of law the Church has historically championed.
A Question of Selective Silence and Moral Leadership
The activist introduces a compelling point of contrast that deepens the controversy. He recalls that while leaders like Bishop Mpundu openly condemned the PF-era’s “corruption and brutality”—including the killing of citizens like Lawrence Banda and the sheltering of alleged murderer Shebby Chilekwa at State House—Archbishop Banda’s public condemnation was notably absent. This perceived silence, juxtaposed with the current allegations, leads Sikaile to a pointed question: “Were these the ‘gifts’ that bought his silence?”
This is not merely about a vehicle; it is about the integrity of moral witness. When religious leaders who should speak truth to power are perceived to have benefited from the system they ought to critique, it erodes public trust and cripples the Church’s prophetic voice on issues like poverty, which it has rightly highlighted.
The Broader National Context: Corruption and Development
Sikaile masterfully connects this individual case to Zambia’s systemic challenges. He paints a picture of a nation where, “since 1964, a clique of individuals has feasted on public resources,” resulting in dilapidated infrastructure and millions living “undignified lives.” The alleged looting of a single vehicle is symbolic of a larger disease that diverts resources from rural farmers using ox-carts to clinics, from crumbling bridges in Lundazi, and from underdeveloped constituencies like Katombola and Sichifulo.
He challenges the Catholic Church to offer “clearer and firmer communication” on this matter, urging it to state a clear moral position rather than allowing the issue to be reduced to “political theatrics.” The underlying demand is for the Church to practice internally the accountability it preaches externally.
Precedent and Principle: A Global Perspective
To counter claims of persecution, Sikaile notes that the Catholic Church is “on record in other parts of the world including Vatican City where courts of law have sentenced high-profile… leaders for abuse of authority.” This establishes a crucial precedent: holding clergy accountable under secular law is not an attack on faith but an affirmation of universal legal standards. Archbishop Banda is “therefore not the first, nor a special case.”
Conclusion: The Path Forward
The ultimate plea is for a Zambia “where hard work not privilege or corruption is the pathway to success.” Sikaile argues that the pursuit of accountability, even if it costs an election, carries more honor than protecting the powerful. The case of Archbishop Banda, as an individual actor who “allegedly received the gift alone, used it alone,” must be answered for alone. To inflate it into a church-state confrontation is “misleading and unfair” and ultimately steals focus from the collective work of nation-building, which remains the responsibility of Zambians themselves.
This moment, therefore, is a litmus test for Zambia’s institutions—both religious and legal. It probes whether the nation can consistently apply the principle of equality before the law, distinguish between institutional critique and individual accountability, and foster a public ethic where silence is never for sale. The courts will decide the legal matter, but the court of public opinion and history, as Sikaile concludes, will render its own enduring judgment.