HH REVEALS EMERGENCY NGABWE PIT STOP WITH GUY SCOTT …as Chopper forced unscheduled touchdown after nature issues high-stakes ultimatum to future President By DAVID KANDUZA IT was supposed to be a standard campaign flight, but nature does not respect political boundaries, flight manifests or the State security apparatus. In a hilarious recollection shared by President […]

HH REVEALS EMERGENCY NGABWE  PIT STOP WITH GUY SCOTT
…as Chopper forced unscheduled touchdown after nature issues high-stakes ultimatum to future President

By DAVID KANDUZA
IT was supposed to be a standard campaign flight, but nature does not respect political boundaries, flight manifests or the State security apparatus.

In a hilarious recollection shared by President Hakainde Hichilema in his homily during the solemn State Funeral of the late former Vice President Guy Scott at the Anglican Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Lusaka today July 20, 2026, a routine helicopter ride with the late former Vice President rapidly degenerated into an aerial crisis of the most personal kind.

Cruising high above Central Province, then-opposition leader Mr Hichilema realised he was facing an imminent internal disaster.

The helicopter was moving fast, but Dr Scott’s metabolism was moving faster.

Dr Scott requested a sudden stopover in Ngabwe District to greet the people in a heavily underdeveloped area that historically lacked proper road infrastructure and accessible air facilities.

“If we pull over right now, the police will think we are hosting an illegal rally or plotting a coup. We could be arrested at any moment!” Mr Hichilema recalled.

But Dr Scott, legendary for his humuor and razor-sharp pragmatism, did not offer comfort.

Instead, he looked at Mr Hichilems like a man harbouring a ticking logistical time bomb.

Dr Scott immediately assessed the geopolitical stakes of the situation.

At the time, political tensions were high and an unscheduled landing by opposition heavyweights in a remote district was a recipe for immediate State panic.

Mr Hichilema, however, was past the point of caring about political detentions or police bonds.

No cell could match the torture of the helicopter’s vibration on an over-inflated bladder.

He gave the pilot the ultimate command: “Land the chopper.”

The helicopter cut through the sky and made an emergency descent, kicking up a massive cloud of dust in the middle of Ngabwe District.

To any onlooker or local authority, it looked like a high-level, covert tactical insertion.

In reality, it was just Dr Scott desperately hunting for a place to relieve himself.

As soon as the skids touched the dirt, Dr Scott was already scanning the horizon for police land cruisers, muttering about the absurdity of getting thrown in the cells over a bathroom break.

President Hichilema bolted from the aircraft, successfully averting a biological catastrophe just in time, while Dr Scott was ahead of him and kept watch— wondering how he would explain to the press that the United Party for National Development had been compromised by a nature of call.

“Mr Hichilema, you are a massive risk!” Dr Scott said while both passed water in an unfinished ablution block, completely serious yet utterly hilarious.

When the police arrived at the scene they tear-gassed the people who had welcomed them, as their bladders were already emptied and the duo took off.

It remains one of the funniest, most human moments of modern Zambian political history—proving that before you can run a country, you first have to manage the plumbing