By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
Mr. President, here we are again today, on this very good Wednesday morning, over the hills of Wilberforce, overlooking Freetown. The birds chirp, the sea glimmers in the distance, and yet beneath this serene surface lies the simmering frustration of a nation. Mr. President, I have been watching with keen observation, and what I see is deeply troubling. It’s as if you’ve abdicated your responsibility, allowing people around you to do whatever they wish, with no regard for law or consequence. I have some pressing questions, Mr. President, questions you must address if we are to believe you still have the nation’s best interests at heart.
You often remind us that you are a “listening president,” but frankly, we are fed up with all this listening. Your silence has become deafening. It seems, Mr. President, that you are more interested in listening than speaking, especially when the people desperately need you to address the pressing issues facing our nation. Your government’s communication with the public has been reduced to hollow promises and slogans, while behind the scenes, everything falls apart.
Which brings me to the matter of your wife, our First Lady. Mr. President, could you kindly explain to us why she is running around like a headless chicken, darting from one conference room to another, attending international events, and signing off on projects that don’t seem to benefit anyone but her own profile? We understand that the role of the First Lady involves advocacy and charitable work, but when it crosses into mismanagement of resources and self-promotion, it raises serious questions. Who is footing the bill for all these travels? Is this a wise use of the country’s already limited resources?
You and your government seem to be obsessed with traveling. Endless conferences, international engagements, and high-profile meetings abroad, yet back home, the country suffers. What exactly have these trips achieved? While you are busy racking up frequent flyer miles, Sierra Leoneans are struggling to afford even the most basic necessities. To feed our children has become a daily battle. The disparity between your lifestyle and the people you claim to serve has never been moreglaring.
And now we come to one of your most high-profile initiatives, the “Feed Salone” project. Mr. President, I have to be blunt: “Feed Salone” is a scam, a white elephant that has done little to nothing to improve the lives of the average Sierra Leonean. Despite the grandiose announcements, the glowing speeches, and the supposed funds being funnelled into this project, we see no results. No one I know, not a single person, has benefited from this so-called
“Feed Salone” initiative. You speak of the Tomabum rice project as if it were some grand achievement, but Mr. President, tell me, where is the rice? “Aw Ba Yu Yon Farm Na Tone (Stone) Yu Bin Plant?” because certainly, nothing is growing, nothing is being harvested, and nothing is feeding the people.
It feels like a cruel joke, one where you shout from the rooftops about this grand project while we, the people, are left to starve. Mr. President, you need to stop misleading us. We are tired of hearing about all the funds your government has supposedly received for “Feed Salone” when the people remain hungry. The tractors that were bought with the nation’s money—where are they? Who is benefiting from them? Because it certainly isn’t the farmers.
Mr. President, you have mastered the art of listening but have completely abandoned the responsibility of leading. The people need more than passive observation from their leader. They need a president who speaks, who acts, and who delivers. But instead, we are left with a leader who remains disconnected, even as the country crumbles.
And if that weren’t bad enough, on Saturday, your Chief Minister was busy provoking the young people in Kenema by parading prisoners through the streets, many of whom were jailed for minor offenses or debts that should have been settled in court. Yet rather than follow due process, your government prefers to throw people into prison without regard for their rights. This is not justice, Mr. President. This is abuse of power. The people are not criminals to be paraded like trophies; they are citizens who deserve dignity and fairness.
Your Chief Minister’s so-called “Radical Inclusion” is another slogan that means nothing to those of us who are living the reality. What is radical about this inclusion? Where is the inclusion? The youths are suffering. You know this. Yet your government uses them as pawns, exciting them with empty promises while exploiting their hopes for political gain. And when their usefulness has passed, you discard them. Mr. President, this is not leadership. This is manipulation, and the people are growing weary of it.
Time and time again, you have shown disdain for the very people who elected you. You treat us as if we are beneath you, as if our struggles don’t matter. While we fight to find enough food to feed our children, you and your Chief Minister are posing for photographs with fish, showing the world how well-fed you are. Meanwhile, most Sierra Leoneans can’t even afford a cup of gari in the morning. This is a provocation of the highest order, Mr. President, and we will not stand for it.
And let’s not forget the tractors, bought with our money but distributed among you and your men. You claim “Feed Salone” is a national project, but you and I both know that’s not true. This is daylight robbery, plain and simple. You continue to lie to the people while reaping the benefits of their suffering.
We are tired of being treated as if we are nothing more than a means to your political ends. We are tired of your silence, your empty promises, and your arrogance. We demand accountability. We demand leadership. And we demand that you stop wasting our resources while the nation goes hungry.
I will stop here for today, Mr. President, because frankly, I need to get some rest and enjoy my day. But don’t think for a moment that this conversation is over. We have much more to discuss, and come Thursday, Insha Allah, I will be expecting some answers. And don’t forget, there’s still the matter of your wife that we need to address.
Until then, Mr. President, I leave you with this: the people are watching, and we are fed up.