Growing up in Zambia, I remember food tasting like the earth it came from – tomatoes with real sweetness, eggs with deep orange yolks, guavas so juicy they ran down your arms. We didn’t need fancy health labels or “clean eating” hashtags. Our food was clean. It came from small farms, back gardens, or local markets, not in plastic packaging.
But fast-forward to today, and something’s shifted. Our plates are starting to resemble those in the West – heavily processed, chemical-heavy, nutritionally empty. Imported snacks, sugary cereals, and instant everything are replacing what used to be real food. All in the name of convenience and modernity. But here’s my honest question:
Is copying the Western food system really the progress we think it is, or are we silently importing sickness?

Two Food Systems
Let’s take a step back. In the UK and USA, the average supermarket shelf is lined with foods that have been genetically modified, chemically preserved, or engineered for longer shelf life rather than nourishment. Even fruits and vegetables, unless labelled “organic”, are often sprayed with pesticides or grown in artificial conditions.
In response, there’s now a booming organic industry in the West – not because it’s trendy, but because people are trying to reverse the damage done by decades of over-industrialised food. Organic food is now seen as medicine. But it comes with a hefty price tag, often only affordable to the middle or upper classes.
In Zambia, ironically, we’ve had access to naturally grown, organic-style food for generations, but because it doesn’t have a fancy label or imported seal of approval, we’ve started dismissing it as “basic” or “backwards.” We’re abandoning what works, just as others are desperately trying to return to it.

Zambia’s Food Was Always Wellness-First
Our ancestors were wellness warriors before the term even existed. Millet, sorghum, pumpkin leaves, okra, groundnuts, goat meat, fermented milk. These were not only nutrient-dense but gut-healing, diabetes-friendly, and deeply anti-inflammatory. These were foods designed to keep communities alive, not just full.
Even our farming systems were better. Most rural and peri-urban farmers grew crops seasonally, used compost or manure instead of synthetic fertilisers, and rotated fields to maintain soil health. Whether or not they called it “organic”, it was.
Compare that to today’s imported maize meal or MSG powder-flavoured noodles. You’ll quickly see why we have a rising generation struggling with weight gain, blood sugar issues, high blood pressure, and sluggish energy.

What the Data Shows
Studies from the UK and US show clear links between ultra-processed foods and chronic disease. In fact:
• A 2023 UK-based study found that people who consumed high levels of processed foods had a 25% higher risk of mental decline and cardiovascular disease.
• The CDC in the US notes that 6 in 10 adults have a chronic disease, with poor diet as one of the major contributors.
Meanwhile, in Zambia and across Southern Africa, we’re also seeing a shift. Urban youth are developing lifestyle-related illnesses like type 2 diabetes and hypertension – illnesses once considered “Western.” This shift aligns directly with the rise in fast food places, frozen meats, and processed supermarket options.
It’s no coincidence.

The Role of the FMCG and Agricultural Industry
Over the past 20 years in Zambia, both the agriculture and FMCG (Fast-Moving Consumer Goods) sectors have experienced a silent revolution.
• Agriculture: More farmers now rely on chemical fertilisers and hybrid seeds to meet demand. Multinationals have introduced high-yield but pesticide-reliant methods, especially in commercial maize and cotton production. This has improved volume but reduced soil and food quality in many cases.
• FMCG: Zambia’s shelves are now flooded with imported biscuits, cereals, fizzy drinks, sauces, and snacks. Some are cheaper than local alternatives, but they’re also loaded with sugars, emulsifiers, and preservatives.
Marketing tells us these products are modern, aspirational, and convenient. But our bodies aren’t convinced and the long-term price is paid in clinics, pharmacies, and hospitals.

What the Diaspora Can Teach Us (and Learn)
Interestingly, many Zambians in the diaspora, especially in the UK and US, are trying to return to African-style food. They’re joining organic veg box schemes, searching for sorghum and cassava flour in niche health shops, and paying $6 for a bottle of moringa capsules we can grow at home for free.
That should tell us something. While we’re running towards imported options, they’re trying to return to the roots we’re walking away from.

What’s the Way Forward?
This isn’t about rejecting all modernity. It’s about discernment. Zambia has an opportunity to lead in wellness, not by copying the West’s path, but by honouring and updating our own.
Here’s what we can do:
1. Reclaim Traditional Foods
Let’s stop apologising for eating local greens, fermented maize, and fresh goat. These foods are nutrient gold. If anything, we should be exporting their stories to the world.
2. Shop Seasonally and Locally
Support small farmers. Buy from markets instead of big chains when possible. Ask vendors what fertilisers or sprays they use – you’ll be surprised how many grow clean, pesticide-free produce without the label.
3. Educate Without Shaming
Wellness isn’t about perfection. It’s about awareness. Schools, clinics, and community groups should be including food literacy, especially for the youth.
4. Call FMCGs to Accountability
We must push for transparency on food labelling in Zambia. We need sugar warnings, ingredient lists, and education campaigns, not just “approved by” stickers.
5. Grow What You Can
Rooftop herbs and veranda vegetables – wellness doesn’t always start at a pharmacy. It often starts with a seed.

There’s a quiet dignity in knowing your food was grown with care, cooked with intention, and eaten with gratitude. That’s our cultural way. It may not be glamorous on Instagram, but it’s powerful, and it’s ours.
Let’s not wait for a health crisis to value what we already have. Let’s honour our heritage by preserving it, adapting it, and passing it forward. Our roots are not a problem to solve, they’re the solution we’ve been sitting on all along.
(Kaajal Vaghela is a wellness entrepreneur, sportswear designer, and diabetes health consultant with over three decades of lived experience managing Type 1 diabetes. Having previously served as the chairperson of the Lusaka branch of the Diabetes Association of Zambia, she remains a passionate advocate for breaking down myths and building awareness about diabetes. For more information, check out: www.kaajalvaghela.com and to continue the conversation email: [email protected])