ZONDA didn’t show up at my office for our usual discourse last week—not out of protest, nor in boycott. I was away—far away—where dumplings and noodles replaced nshima, and where discipline and development marched side by side.
China, over 5,000 km away, was the destination. I was among delegates invited to the Chongqing Economic and Trade Promotion Forum and the Seminar for Leaders of Media Organisations, held from April 18 to 29, 2025.
The theme of the Economic and Trade event? Stories of the CPC: Achievements of Chongqing in Practicing Xi Jinping Thought on Socialism with Chinese Characteristics for a New Era.
But why Chongqing? When I arrived in the city, I immediately understood. Located in the southwest of China on the upper reaches of the Yangtze River, Chongqing is a national centre for advanced manufacturing. Despite its rugged, mountainous terrain, it’s China’s motor vehicle production hub.
Not just that—it’s the world’s leading laptop producer and a major mobile phone manufacturer. The city covers all 31 manufacturing sectors and boasts a GDP of RMB 3.2 trillion, up by 5.7 percent year-on-year. And it gets even more interesting.
Chongqing is building a system of modern manufacturing clusters, led by three cutting-edge sectors: intelligent connected and new energy vehicles, next-generation electronics and IT, and advanced materials. So what better place to host an economic and trade forum?
The seminar, on the other hand, was a deep dive into development, media innovation, and cultural pride—spread across the cities of Chongqing, Shanxi, and Beijing. It was breathtaking.
Barely had I settled back home when Zonda stormed in.
“So, Bosses,” he said without preamble, “you abandoned nshima for chopsticks in China, eh?”
“Only for ten days,” I laughed. “And let me tell you—they’ve mastered the art of the dumpling. I nearly became a master at using chopsticks too!”
Zonda raised an eyebrow. “But can dumplings really satisfy a Zambian stomach? Did you go the whole week without our five-finger staple?”
“I survived,” I chuckled. “There’s a whole array of delicious Chinese dishes to convert even the most die-hard nshima addict. Our hosts—the International Department of the Central Committee of the CPC— ensured we were spoiled for choice.”
We sampled everything: egg fried rice, steamed flat fish, tofu pudding, clear noodle soup, cauliflower, Kung Pao chicken, and the famous spicy Chongqing hotpot.
“Surely that’s enough to fill a Zambian stomach,” I said.
“What’s this hotpot thing?” Zonda asked, curious.

“Well, it’s a simple concept—a simmering pot of broth infused with spices, served alongside a selection of raw ingredients for diners to cook themselves,” I explained.
“Imagine enjoying this hotpot inside a former bomb shelter, now transformed into a top-tier restaurant. A tourist attraction in its own right.”
“Yooo!” Zonda exclaimed. “A bomb shelter turned into a powerful restaurant? Chinese people are truly innovative!”
“Very much so,” I agreed. “They see potential where others see ruins. I thought I’d seen it all during my previous visit to Chengdu, but this time, the surprises kept coming.”
Zonda leaned in. “Tell me—is it true trains pass through buildings?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “I saw it with my own eyes. In Chongqing, a mountainous city, a monorail train runs right through an apartment block. Rubber rails, no noise, no congestion—just precision.”
He threw up his hands. “Thirty-two million people in one city and no confusion? Meanwhile, one bus breaks down on Chachacha or Cairo Roads here and chaos erupts!”
“Exactly,” I said. “It’s all about planning. We also visited the Dazu Rock Carvings—centuries-old spiritual sculptures carved into cliff faces. Walking there felt like moving through a silent sermon.”
“That’s why the scenery is recognised as a UNESCO World Culture Heritage site,” I intonned.
Zonda was stunned. “So they preserve their history too—even as they modernise. They’ve even digitised 3,000 years of their civilisation for posterity. We can barely promote the Slave Tree in Luangwa or the one in Ndola.”
“I thought the same,” I said. “Then I saw the Xiaoxitian Temple—built over 400 years ago, hanging onto cliffs in Shanxi. The sculptures looked like they were suspended mid-air.”
“That sounds like witchcraft—or engineering,” Zonda said, shaking his head. “Maybe both.”
“More like devotion and foresight,” I laughed. “Same goes for the Forbidden City in Beijing. It’s power etched in stone. Walking through it felt like stepping into the breath of ancient emperors.”
“So what did you really learn?” Zonda asked. “Besides eating with sticks and watching trains pass through residential blocks?”
“That tourism is serious business,” I said. “Every site had guides, storytelling, pride. Local tourists were everywhere—old and young—exploring, learning, proud.”
He nodded slowly. “We have stories too, you know. Ever been to Ng’ombe Ilede? Or the Slave Trees dotted across the country? But who’s telling our stories?”
“That’s our gap,” I said. “China is selling history— literally centuries-old
rocks—and people are paying to see them. Meanwhile, ours sit in silence.”
“I saw the famous Yellow
River too … remember those primary school lessons?” I added. “The place was crawling with tourists—local and foreign alike. Tourism there is everyone’s business. Here, we still think it’s just for foreigners to enjoy.”
“Maybe it’s affordability,” Zonda said. “Or maybe poor promotion.”
“Either way, we’ve got something to learn,” I said. “Our visit to Xinhua News Agency, Western China International Communication Organisation (WCICO), the Beijing Film Academy, Yuncheng Daily Newspaper offices, and Tsinghua School of Journalism showed just how far they’ve gone— especially in embracing artificial intelligence and next-gen communication tools.”
Zonda was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Bosses, when you go on these trips, you carry more than a notebook— you carry Zambia’s chance to learn.”
I nodded. “And this time, I came back not just with memories—but with ideas.”
“See, development is about mindset, discipline, and pride in our own history and heritage. If China can turn bomb shelters into tourist attractions, surely we can do something with Ng’ombe Ilede, the Slave Trees, caves, rock paintings, and other overlooked gems.”
“So the challenge is ours now—to dream, plan, and act as we aim to modernise,” said Zonda.
“Yeah, they say China plans in centuries, while we plan for tomorrow’s allowance. They build for their grandchildren; we patch for elections. And yet, the difference is not magic—it’s mindset. It’s systems that reward discipline, not political squabbles.”
Zonda stood, brushing off his trousers as if to head out. “Bosses, next time you’re packing for such a trip, remember— pack Zambia’s future too.”
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