Tobacco Giant’s Double Standards Exposed: BAT Lobbies Zambia to Weaken Rules Already Enforced in UK

By_Suraj Karowa/ANW
Lusaka, Zambia – November 13, 2025

*British American Tobacco pushed Zambian ministers to drop or delay ad bans, health warnings and restrictions on flavoured products, letter shows*

In a stark display of corporate duplicity, British American Tobacco (BAT), the UK’s largest tobacco multinational, has been caught pressuring Zambian officials to dismantle tobacco control measures that have long been standard in Britain.

A leaked letter from BAT’s Zambian subsidiary reveals aggressive lobbying to gut a landmark bill aimed at curbing smoking’s deadly toll in one of Africa’s most vulnerable markets.

The document, obtained by investigative outlets and shared with civil society groups, urges Zambian ministers to scrap or postpone bans on tobacco advertising and sponsorship.

It also calls for slashing the size of graphic health warnings on packs from 75% to as low as 30%, lifting curbs on flavored products, and softening penalties for violators.

*Farmers selling tobacco in Chipata, Zambia. Photograph: Tobacco Board of Zambia*

These pleas come despite BAT’s headquarters in London enforcing far stricter rules under UK law—bans on flavored cigarettes since 2020 and warnings covering 65% of packaging.

“Utter hypocrisy,” fumed Master Chimbala, a prominent Zambian anti-tobacco activist. “They shield Brits while dooming Africans. If I grew tobacco in my yard, harvested it for profit, and watched my neighbors’ kids die from it—that’s moral bankruptcy.”

Zambia’s draft Tobacco Control Bill, now before parliament, seeks to outpace even WHO guidelines by extending protections to e-cigarettes and mandating warnings on 75% of packs. It proposes jail terms up to 10 years and fines tied to company turnover for breaches.

Over 7,000 Zambians die annually from tobacco-related diseases, per WHO data, in a nation where 20% of adults smoke and illicit trade floods markets with cheap, unregulated sticks.

BAT’s letter, penned by managing director Mukubesa Maliande, strikes a conciliatory tone. The firm claims commitment to “good corporate behavior” and public health goals but warns of “unwelcome consequences” like booming black markets.

It suggests delaying warnings for 12 months post-passage and narrowing flavor bans to exclude “desserts, candy, energy drinks, soft drinks, and alcohol”—a loophole that would keep kid-appealing options alive.

Full flavor bans, BAT argues, drive users underground, echoing defenses it once used globally before UK crackdowns proved otherwise.

This isn’t isolated opportunism. Tobacco giants like BAT, which rake in billions from emerging markets, have a playbook: infiltrate policy via “stakeholder consultations,” fund proxies, and cry economic doom.

Last month, WHO’s Framework Convention on Tobacco Control (FCTC) conference in Panama blasted intensifying interference, from Indonesia’s stalled taxes to UN non communicable disease summits diluted by industry allies.

Jorge Alday, director of STOP at Vital Strategies, called the Zambian push “textbook sabotage.” “If this bill weakens because of BAT’s fingerprints, lives hang in the balance—smokers who could quit, kids who never start.” He pointed to parallels: Kenya’s nicotine pouch warnings gutted after BAT lobbying in 2024; Malawi’s fields romanticized in ads despite child labor scandals.

Zambia’s tobacco heartland tells a grim story. In Chipata’s dusty barns, farmers like those photographed by the Tobacco Board of Zambia haggle over dried leaves, unaware their crop fuels 1.3 million global child laborers, per ILO estimates. Exports hit $100 million last year, but health costs dwarf gains: $200 million annually in treatment, lost productivity, and grief.

Chimbala, whose campaigns have rallied youth against Big Tobacco, sees the letter circulating among ministries as a flashpoint. “It’s copied to trade, health, finance—everywhere. Civil society is mobilizing.” Protests loom if concessions emerge, he warned, invoking successes like Australia’s plain packaging, which slashed youth uptake without bankrupting firms.

BAT Zambia’s spokesperson defended the overture as “legitimate participation” under local laws. “We’re not anti-regulation,” they insisted. “We protect youth access and push progressive rules balancing health, rights, and market realities—like illicit trade, now 30% of sales here.” The firm touted harm-reduction pivots, like nicotine pouches, but critics note these often lure non-smokers.

Broader forces amplify the irony. The UK, BAT’s home, champions global tobacco treaties while exporting lax oversight abroad. A 2018 Guardian probe dubbed it “hypocrisy on steroids.” Today, with Labour’s health push stalling flavored vape bans amid youth vaping surges, questions swirl: Will Westminster pressure Lusaka, or call out its golden goose?
In Africa, the stakes are existential.

By 2030, tobacco could kill 10 million yearly continent-wide, per WHO, as populations boom and Western markets tighten. Zambia’s bill, if intact, could model resistance—banning ads near schools, hiking taxes 50%, and funding quit lines.

Yet shadows linger. Industry cash flows to MPs; “consultants” whisper in ears. Chimbala urges donors like the Bloomberg Initiative to arm watchdogs. “Legislation doesn’t kill companies—it saves people. BAT survives bans in London; why not here?”

As parliament debates, one image haunts: sacks of tobacco in Chipata, golden harvest for some, poison for generations. For Zambians, the fight is literal life—or a slow, corporate-fueled death.