By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
Yeah, Mr. President, I hope that you’re taking the time to reflect on what we’ve been discussing. I’ve come to realize that you’ve grown accustomed to these exchanges, looking forward to hearing from me as I do from you. It’s an honor that you’ve given me your ear, and for that, I must say I’m the proudest Sierra Leonean alive today.
Now, as promised, let’s get straight into our discussions on the upcoming 2025 Population and Housing Census. You’ve spoken passionately about its importance, and I respect the painstaking detail you put into explaining why Sierra Leoneans must be counted. And on this, Mr. President, I find myself in agreement. But there’s something nagging at me, a concern I must raise, one that touches the core of whether Sierra Leoneans truly understand the value of this exercise.
Are our people, Mr. President, truly educated on why being counted matters? Sure, you and I, and a select few, know that understanding the size and needs of the population is crucial for planning. We know it allows the government to cater to its citizens and provide essential services. But since I first learned to distinguish my left from my right, every census organized by Statistics Sierra Leone has been tainted by one underlying motivation: elections.
It is no secret that when we organize censuses, especially in recent years, many see them as nothing more than an election tool. Mr. President, it’s become a recurring theme. Instead of being about development, they’re about strategy. Instead of being about social welfare, they’re about political gain. This was evident during the midterm census. The APC, much like your SLPP, threw a wrench into the works. They encouraged people to refuse to participate, convinced that the entire exercise was an election ploy. And when Statistics Sierra Leone finally published the results, the numbers left us bewildered.
I mean, really, Mr. President Kenema, sparsely populated Kenema, had the highest number of households in the country? What happened to the Western Area, the most densely populated part of Sierra Leone? Have the people there abandoned the city for some undiscovered, promised land? Na Wetin Bin Hapin Dae? Aw Ba Den Don Lef Fo Do Mammy En Daddy Biznes Na Dem Place Dae? The figures just didn’t add up, and you know it. But that was then.
This time around, Mr. President, we need the census to be done right. I appeal to both the APC and our shortsighted citizens: censuses are not about elections alone. They’re about ensuring we have the right data to plan for the future, to improve healthcare, education, housing, and all the basic amenities that our people deserve. Statistics Sierra Leone must, therefore, launch a comprehensive education and mobilization campaign that cuts across all corners of the country. Whether in Kono, Koinadugu, Pujehun, or Kailahun, whether they are SLPP, APC, or C4C, NGC, or NDA, every Sierra Leonean must understand that the census is a tool for national development, not political maneuvering.
But, Mr. President, I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask you about the pressing issue with our teachers. As we prepare for the census, we cannot ignore the crises in our education system. Teachers are threatening to strike over poor conditions of service. The situation has deteriorated, with private schools hiking their fees beyond the reach of the average Sierra Leonean family. Essential school materials are scarce, and classroom facilities are deteriorating. Our teachers, the backbone of the education system, are overwhelmed. They’re forced to offer extra lessons just to make ends meet, and because of this, many students are skipping regular classes, waiting for paid lessons instead. What kind of system are we cultivating, Mr. President? One that favors those who can pay, while the rest get left behind.
Parents are in turmoil. Households are breaking under the pressure. Many families can no longer bear the weight of skyrocketing school fees, poor classroom conditions, and the constant demands placed on their children for private lessons. Your Free Quality Education initiative, while well-intentioned, has done little to address the real burdens families are facing. Instead of quality education, we’re seeing parents exhausted, frustrated, and unsure of what the future holds for their children.
You, Mr. President, made education a central plank of your administration. Yet, the reality on the ground tells a different story. Teachers are underpaid and overworked. Parents are overstretched. And students, who should be the future of this country, are being pushed into a system that prioritizes survival over learning.
These are indicators, Mr. President, that under your leadership, we are faltering. You’ve built a strong rhetoric around your achievements, but rhetoric alone cannot fill the cracks that are widening beneath our feet. Honestly, Mr. President, as a friend and a concerned citizen, I must say that I’m seeing more grandstanding and self-promotion from your administration than tangible efforts to fix the issues affecting everyday Sierra Leoneans.
I know this is a bitter pill to swallow, but it must be said. Leadership is not about projecting power or protecting party interests. It’s about addressing the real needs of the people, and right now, those needs are being ignored in favor of political spectacle.
Before I wrap up this letter, I must mention something that has been circulating recently. There’s a video of the Chief Minister visiting Pademba Road Correctional Center, and it has gone viral. I’ll admit, Mr. President, this has piqued my interest. I wonder what your take on it is. After all, this video paints a picture of power and privilege mingling with the people in the most unusual of circumstances.
But beyond the viral nature of the video, it raises larger questions about how we treat those in our correctional system. What is your government’s plan to reform these institutions? Are we doing enough to ensure that those behind bars, many of whom are victims of systemic injustice, are given a fair chance at rehabilitation?
Mr. President, I’m not feeling too well today, so I’ll leave it here for now. I’ll need to get some rest. But when next we talk, I want to dive deeper into the Pademba Road video and the broader issues it raises. For now, I trust you’ll reflect on the points I’ve raised—particularly the upcoming census, the plight of our teachers, and the challenges faced by families across the nation. Until then, take care, Mr. President. The country is watching
