Zambia: Unleashed
By Derek Mwale
There is a version of Zambia that the world knows.
Copper.
Victoria Falls.
Maize.
Peaceful elections.
Lusaka.
A small country somewhere in Southern Africa, occasionally mentioned when copper prices move, when elections happen, or when a tourist posts a photograph of a waterfall that looks too beautiful to be real.
That Zambia exists.
But it is not the Zambia I see.
The Zambia I see is something much more dangerous.
More ambitious.
More impatient.
More technological.
More creative.
More connected.
A Zambia that has spent decades being told what it is—and is finally beginning to ask what it could become.
Zambia is not necessarily poor in ideas. Zambia is poor in systems that allow ideas to compound.
That distinction matters.
Because a country can have brilliant engineers and still have terrible infrastructure.
It can have entrepreneurs and still have weak capital markets.
It can have musicians and still have an underdeveloped creative economy.
It can have farmers and still import food.
It can have minerals and still export raw materials.
It can have universities and still struggle to translate research into companies.
It can have young people who understand artificial intelligence, blockchain, software engineering, biotechnology and robotics—and still have an economy designed around yesterday.
This is the contradiction of Zambia.
And contradictions are where revolutions begin.
Zambia Has Been Underestimated
I sometimes think Zambia has become comfortable with being underestimated.
Maybe that sounds harsh.
But look around.
There is an enormous psychological difference between saying:
“We are a developing country.”
and saying:
“We are building one of Africa’s next great economies.”
The first describes a condition.
The second creates a mission.
For years, African countries have been placed into categories.
Developed.
Developing.
Emerging.
Poor.
Middle income.
Resource-rich.
Landlocked.
Small market.
These classifications can be useful for economists.
But they are terrible frameworks for imagination.
A country is not its GDP per capita.
A country is not its infrastructure deficit.
A country is not its debt.
A country is not its colonial history.
A country is not even its current institutions.
A country is a collection of people making decisions across generations.
And Zambia has a young population.
That is potentially explosive.
Because young populations are not merely consumers.
They are builders.
Developers.
Artists.
Engineers.
Scientists.
Farmers.
Designers.
Founders.
Researchers.
Musicians.
Filmmakers.
Writers.
Creators.
The problem is not whether Zambia has talent.
The problem is whether Zambia can create an environment where talent compounds.
The Copper Problem
Let’s talk about copper.
Zambia is famous for it.
And rightfully so.
Copper has shaped Zambia’s modern economic identity.
But there is a strange paradox here.
We live in a world becoming increasingly dependent on technologies that require enormous amounts of copper.
Electric vehicles.
Solar farms.
Wind turbines.
Power grids.
Data centers.
Telecommunications infrastructure.
Artificial intelligence infrastructure.
Consumer electronics.
Robotics.
Electrification.
The digital economy itself indirectly depends on physical infrastructure built from materials like copper.
And Zambia sits on significant copper resources.
So why shouldn’t Zambia become one of the world’s most important technology-industrial economies?
Notice the wording.
Not merely a copper exporter.
A technology-industrial economy.
Those are radically different things.
Imagine Zambia building an industrial ecosystem around copper.
Mining.
Refining.
Processing.
Electrical components.
Cables.
Motors.
Transformers.
Batteries.
Energy infrastructure.
Electronics.
Data-center infrastructure.
Industrial robotics.
Mining technology.
Engineering services.
Software.
Research.
Universities.
Startups.
Suddenly copper isn’t the final product.
It becomes the beginning of a value chain.
That is the opportunity.
The real question isn’t:
“How much copper can Zambia mine?”
It is:
“How much economic complexity can Zambia build around copper?”
That is a much more interesting question.
From Digging to Building
There is a psychological trap in resource-rich economies.
You dig something out of the ground.
You sell it.
Someone else transforms it into something valuable.
You buy the finished product back.
Repeat.
For generations.
It is an incredibly efficient way to remain dependent.
Imagine if the history of computing had worked this way.
A country discovers silicon.
It exports silicon.
Another country turns that silicon into semiconductors.
Another turns semiconductors into processors.
Another builds servers.
Another builds cloud platforms.
Another builds artificial intelligence companies.
Then the original country buys smartphones from everyone else.
That sounds absurd.
Yet versions of this pattern happen constantly with African natural resources.
Zambia has an opportunity to break that cycle.
Not by abandoning mining.
By moving upward through the value chain.
Mining should become smarter.
Factories should become more advanced.
Universities should become more commercial.
Research should become entrepreneurial.
Engineers should build products.
And software should sit on top of everything.
Zambia’s Biggest Resource Isn’t Copper
It is people.
This is an old statement.
But I don’t think we take it seriously enough.
If people are Zambia’s greatest resource, then education should be treated as infrastructure.
Not merely as a social service.
Infrastructure.
Because an engineer is infrastructure.
A programmer is infrastructure.
A doctor is infrastructure.
A scientist is infrastructure.
A teacher is infrastructure.
A researcher is infrastructure.
A product designer is infrastructure.
A skilled electrician is infrastructure.
A machinist is infrastructure.
A farmer who understands modern agricultural technology is infrastructure.
We tend to think of infrastructure as roads, bridges, airports and electricity.
But human capability is infrastructure too.
In fact, it may be the most important kind.
A country can build a beautiful highway.
But if it lacks people capable of building companies around that highway, the highway remains just a highway.
The Smartphone Changed Everything
There is something fascinating happening across Africa.
A generation has grown up connected to the internet.
Not necessarily through expensive desktop computers.
Through smartphones.
That changes the game.
A young person in Lusaka can watch a software engineering lecture from Stanford.
Read research from MIT.
Use GitHub.
Deploy software to the cloud.
Talk to someone in Lagos.
Sell a digital product to someone in London.
Build an audience in Nairobi.
Use artificial intelligence to generate code.
Learn 3D modeling.
Publish a book.
Launch a startup.
Create music.
Build a game.
None of this requires permission from the traditional gatekeepers.
That is powerful.
The internet has essentially created a parallel infrastructure.
The physical economy still has borders.
The digital economy increasingly does not.
And Zambia needs to exploit that aggressively.
Zambia Should Become a Software Country
Not because software is fashionable.
Because software is leverage.
One programmer can build something that serves ten people.
Or one thousand.
Or one million.
The marginal cost of distributing software is extraordinarily low.
That makes software fundamentally different from many traditional industries.
Imagine a Zambian developer building a financial platform.
The first customer might be in Lusaka.
The hundredth might be in Kitwe.
The thousandth might be in Nairobi.
The millionth might be in Lagos.
Suddenly geography becomes less important.
This is why I believe Zambia’s technology strategy shouldn’t be:
“How do we build a few startups?”
It should be:
“How do we create an economy where building software companies becomes normal?”
We need thousands of developers.
Thousands of startups.
Thousands of small software businesses.
Developer communities.
Open-source projects.
Technology conferences.
Research laboratories.
Venture capital.
Angel investors.
University incubators.
Government procurement for local technology.
And most importantly:
customers.
Startups don’t become great because people clap for them.
They become great because someone pays.
The African Internet Needs African Software
There is another enormous opportunity.
African problems are often treated as niche problems.
They aren’t.
They are laboratories.
Consider logistics.
African cities can have fragmented transportation systems.
That is a difficult software problem.
Agriculture can involve fragmented supply chains.
That is a difficult software problem.
Cross-border payments are complicated.
That is a difficult software problem.
Informal businesses often lack sophisticated accounting.
That is a software problem.
Healthcare access is fragmented.
Another software problem.
Education is distributed unevenly.
Another software problem.
Identity systems are complicated.
Another software problem.
Electricity management is complicated.
Another software problem.
Mining operations generate enormous amounts of data.
Another software problem.
The continent is full of problems that require systems thinking.
And Zambia can participate in solving them.
We should not merely consume African technology.
We should build it.
Agriculture Could Become a Technology Industry
Zambia has enormous agricultural potential.
But agriculture shouldn’t be romanticized.
Farming is hard.
Weather is unpredictable.
Markets fluctuate.
Inputs are expensive.
Transport can be inefficient.
Storage can be inadequate.
Farmers often operate with incomplete information.
Technology can change some of this.
Imagine a farmer receiving localized weather predictions.
Market prices.
Crop recommendations.
Disease detection.
Soil analysis.
Financing options.
Insurance.
Equipment rental.
Logistics.
Direct buyers.
All through one platform.
Now imagine millions of agricultural transactions flowing through digital infrastructure.
Suddenly agriculture isn’t simply farming.
It becomes a data industry.
And that data can improve productivity.
The future farmer may still hold a hoe.
But behind that farmer could be an extraordinary technological stack.
Satellites.
Sensors.
Artificial intelligence.
Mobile payments.
Logistics platforms.
Digital marketplaces.
Predictive analytics.
This is where African technology gets interesting.
We don’t have to copy Silicon Valley.
We can build something different.
Lusaka Should Think Bigger
Lusaka has the potential to become one of Southern Africa’s great technology cities.
But cities don’t become technology hubs because someone declares them one.
They become technology hubs because talent concentrates there.
Companies concentrate there.
Capital concentrates there.
Universities collaborate.
Infrastructure improves.
Ideas collide.
People build.
People fail.
People try again.
A technology ecosystem is essentially a network effect.
One startup creates employees.
Those employees eventually leave and create new startups.
Those startups hire engineers.
Engineers create open-source projects.
Investors appear.
Universities respond.
More talent arrives.
More companies form.
The flywheel accelerates.
This is how ecosystems emerge.
Zambia needs that flywheel.
But We Need More Than Lusaka
There is another mistake we could make.
Assuming everything must happen in Lusaka.
It shouldn’t.
Kitwe.
Ndola.
Livingstone.
Chipata.
Kabwe.
Solwezi.
Mongu.
Kasama.
Chingola.
Every city has a potential economic identity.
Ndola could become a manufacturing and logistics powerhouse.
Kitwe and the Copperbelt could become an industrial technology ecosystem.
Livingstone could become a tourism technology and hospitality innovation hub.
Solwezi could become a mining technology center.
Agricultural regions could become agri-tech laboratories.
Universities across the country could specialize.
A decentralized technology economy is stronger than a single-city economy.
Zambia Needs Its Own Silicon Valley—But Not Silicon Valley
This is important.
We don’t need to imitate California.
We need to understand the underlying mechanism.
Silicon Valley didn’t become powerful because Americans like hoodies.
It became powerful because capital, universities, talent, research, military investment, entrepreneurship and technology converged.
Zambia can create its own version of that convergence.
Maybe it looks nothing like Silicon Valley.
Maybe it looks African.
Maybe it is built around mining technology, energy, agriculture, fintech, logistics, climate technology and artificial intelligence.
That could actually be better.
Because the goal isn’t to become another America.
The goal is to become the best possible Zambia.
The Creative Economy Is Also an Economy
Sometimes technology conversations become too obsessed with engineers.
But Zambia has another enormous resource.
Creativity.
Music.
Fashion.
Film.
Photography.
Writing.
Comedy.
Design.
Gaming.
Animation.
Digital media.
Imagine Zambia exporting culture at scale.
A song created in Lusaka reaches Lagos.
A film created in Livingstone reaches Netflix audiences.
A game built by a Zambian studio becomes globally popular.
A Zambian designer sells globally.
A YouTuber builds an international audience.
A publisher distributes African stories worldwide.
That is economic activity.
The creator economy is not some side project.
It is an industry.
And African stories deserve African ownership.
We Need to Stop Thinking Small
This might be the most important part.
Africa has inherited a strange relationship with ambition.
Sometimes we are taught to be grateful for very small victories.
A company creates ten jobs.
Wonderful.
A startup raises a small amount of funding.
Wonderful.
A local product replaces one imported product.
Wonderful.
These things matter.
But eventually we have to ask:
Why not ten million customers?
Why not a company worth billions?
Why not a Zambian company operating in twenty countries?
Why not a Zambian technology company competing with American, European, Chinese and Indian companies?
Why not?
There is no law of physics preventing it.
The biggest barrier is often imagination.
Zambia and Artificial Intelligence
Artificial intelligence changes the equation even further.
Historically, developing countries had to catch up technologically.
That process could take decades.
AI potentially compresses that distance.
A small team can now perform work that previously required entire departments.
Developers can prototype faster.
Researchers can analyze more information.
Farmers can access expert-like guidance.
Teachers can create personalized learning materials.
Businesses can automate administrative work.
Governments can analyze data.
Entrepreneurs can test ideas cheaply.
AI doesn’t eliminate the need for institutions.
But it can increase the productivity of people inside those institutions.
Zambia should therefore not approach AI merely as a consumer.
We should ask:
What does it mean to build African AI?
Models trained on African languages.
Tools designed for African agriculture.
AI systems for mining.
African legal technology.
African healthcare systems.
African educational platforms.
African financial intelligence.
African mapping.
African climate models.
African logistics optimization.
There are thousands of possibilities.
But Technology Cannot Fix Everything
This is where techno-optimism becomes dangerous.
Software cannot replace functioning institutions.
AI cannot replace electricity.
Apps cannot replace roads.
A blockchain cannot replace trust.
A startup cannot replace public policy.
Technology amplifies systems.
If the underlying system is broken, technology can sometimes make the brokenness faster.
So Zambia needs both.
Better technology and better institutions.
Reliable electricity.
Affordable internet.
Good education.
Efficient public services.
Transparent regulation.
Access to capital.
Functional infrastructure.
Competitive markets.
Strong property rights.
Research institutions.
Then technology becomes an accelerant.
The Diaspora Matters
There are Zambians around the world working in technology, medicine, finance, engineering, academia, business and creative industries.
They represent an enormous external network.
But the relationship shouldn’t simply be:
“Come back home.”
That’s too simplistic.
Someone living in London can invest in a Zambian company.
Someone in Johannesburg can mentor a Zambian startup.
Someone in Silicon Valley can introduce a Zambian founder to investors.
Someone in Canada can collaborate with a Zambian university.
Someone in Australia can build a remote engineering team in Lusaka.
The diaspora can become an extension of the country’s economic network.
Borders should not define participation.
The Zambia I Want
I want a Zambia where a sixteen-year-old can decide to become a programmer and have everything necessary to begin.
A Zambia where a university student can build a company without leaving the country.
A Zambia where a farmer can access global markets from a mobile phone.
A Zambia where a musician can earn money from a global audience.
A Zambia where engineers build infrastructure instead of merely maintaining imported systems.
A Zambia where researchers can turn discoveries into companies.
A Zambia where mining creates technology rather than merely royalties.
A Zambia where agriculture becomes industrialized and intelligent.
A Zambia where cities compete with each other economically.
A Zambia where entrepreneurs aren’t treated like gamblers.
A Zambia where failure is not a permanent social sentence.
A Zambia where children don’t have to leave the country to discover opportunity.
And if they leave?
They should leave because they want to.
Not because they have to.
We Don’t Need Permission
This might be the most liberating idea.
Zambia doesn’t need permission to become ambitious.
We don’t need Silicon Valley’s approval.
We don’t need Europe’s approval.
We don’t need China’s approval.
We don’t need Washington’s approval.
We don’t need Johannesburg’s approval.
We don’t need anyone to tell us that we are ready.
Countries become ready by building.
Startups become ready by launching.
Engineers become ready by shipping.
Scientists become ready by researching.
Artists become ready by creating.
Nations become ready by attempting difficult things.
The Next Zambia Will Be Built by Builders
Governments matter.
Policies matter.
Institutions matter.
But eventually, someone has to build.
Someone has to write the code.
Someone has to design the factory.
Someone has to plant the crop.
Someone has to create the film.
Someone has to manufacture the machine.
Someone has to start the company.
Someone has to conduct the research.
Someone has to take the risk.
That person is often an ordinary citizen.
Which means the future of Zambia isn’t sitting somewhere in the distance.
It is being assembled right now.
In classrooms.
In garages.
In university laboratories.
In offices.
In farms.
In workshops.
In recording studios.
In internet cafés.
In startup offices.
On laptops.
On smartphones.
Inside the minds of young Zambians who refuse to accept that the country has to remain exactly as it is.
Zambia: Unleashed
I don’t think Zambia needs to be “discovered.”
I think Zambia needs to unleash itself.
The raw ingredients are already here.
Natural resources.
Land.
Sunlight.
Water.
A young population.
Universities.
Entrepreneurs.
Artists.
Engineers.
Farmers.
Minerals.
Tourism.
Geographic position.
Internet access.
Creativity.
And, perhaps most importantly, a generation that is increasingly unwilling to accept the limits inherited from previous generations.
The challenge is converting potential into systems.
Systems into companies.
Companies into industries.
Industries into wealth.
And wealth into better lives.
That requires patience.
But it also requires urgency.
Because the world is changing incredibly quickly.
Artificial intelligence is changing software.
Electrification is changing energy.
Climate change is changing agriculture.
Digital payments are changing finance.
Remote work is changing employment.
Social media is changing media.
Robotics is changing manufacturing.
Biotechnology is changing medicine.
The countries that understand these transitions early will gain enormous advantages.
Zambia has a choice.
We can watch these changes happen.
Or we can participate in them.
We can continue exporting raw materials.
Or we can build industries around them.
We can continue importing technology.
Or we can build technology.
We can continue losing our brightest minds.
Or we can build ecosystems worth staying for.
We can continue asking what Zambia lacks.
Or we can start asking what Zambia can build.
That question changes everything.
Because Zambia’s story doesn’t have to be:
“A poor country with potential.”
It can be:
“A young nation that figured out how to turn potential into power.”
And perhaps that is the Zambia waiting to emerge.
Not Zambia as it has been.
Not Zambia as outsiders imagine it.
But Zambia as its builders imagine it.
A technological Zambia.
An industrial Zambia.
A creative Zambia.
An agricultural powerhouse.
A manufacturing economy.
A software exporter.
A cultural force.
A center of African innovation.
A country that doesn’t merely sit on valuable resources—
but learns how to transform them.
That Zambia is not a fantasy.
It is a project.
And projects have one interesting property.
They can be built.
Zambia is not finished.
Far from it.
Maybe we have been looking at the country incorrectly.
Maybe the copper isn’t the story.
Maybe the land isn’t the story.
Maybe Victoria Falls isn’t the story.
Maybe even Lusaka isn’t the story.
The story is what happens when millions of Zambians finally decide that potential is no longer enough.
That is when Zambia becomes unleashed.
