We’ve been in Lusaka for just over a week, and the beauty and heartbreak of this city continue to unfold. We’re staying in one of the city’s quieter neighborhoods—walled gardens, well-kept roads, a bubble of calm. But just a short walk away, the energy shifts. Streets are crowded with market stalls, smoke from burning charcoal, and children selling vegetables from baskets. This isn’t hardship as metaphor—it’s the texture of daily life.
Zambia is a country of immense linguistic and cultural wealth. With more than 72 languages and dialects spoken here, most people move fluidly between English and their mother tongues. English may be the official language, but Bemba, Nyanja, Lozi, Tonga, and others carry the rhythms of family, humor, storytelling, and song. Language here is alive. It dances, resists, and remembers.
At the same time, Zambia faces daunting challenges. Deforestation for charcoal has stripped the land, contributing to increasingly severe flooding. The population continues to grow rapidly, while basic services—such as electricity, clean water, and waste management—struggle to keep pace. Even in Lusaka, power cuts are a daily reality. You can’t build a modern economy without reliable energy.
Zambia’s copper industry still drives the economy, a legacy of its colonial past when British companies extracted vast wealth while building little sustainable infrastructure. Today, China has become Zambia’s largest investor, investing heavily in roads, mines, and construction projects. These developments are tangible, but so is the growing concern over who truly benefits and who will own Zambia’s future.
Beyond the copper, beyond the poverty, there is something extraordinary: the people. Zambia’s true wealth lies in its cultural soul. In the music, dance, storytelling, and generosity of its people. The world sees Victoria Falls—Mosi-oa-Tunya, “the smoke that thunders”—but rarely sees the cultural brilliance that echoes behind it. At the Ministry of Culture, one of the chief ministers was the internationally renowned hip-hop rapper Slapdee, Special Minister Mwila Musonda. A rapper in the Ministry of Culture? How cool is that?
With YOCUPA and the beginning of the Zambian Youth Theater, we’re preparing to stage my play House of War: House of Glass in Lusaka on July 25, 2025. Working with young performers who bring their hearts, intelligence, and passion to every rehearsal reminds me why I do this work. Despite limited resources, their energy is boundless. They are not waiting for the future—they’re creating it.
We use this insight— the warmth and generosity you feel from the people of Zambia—not as a fleeting impression, but as a call to a deeper connection. Remarkable organizations are doing meaningful work here, from international partners like Ireland and the EU to nonprofits like Oxfam and Plant-A-Million-Trees, as well as our organization, www.gracecare.org. The question isn’t “What can I do?” but “How can I best be of help?” Let this land and its people inspire you—not to pity, but to partnership. Share their stories. Support their work. Stand with them.
