By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
Mr. President, what concern do you really have for your people? It is with great sorrow that I sit here talking with you, Mr. President, this, yet another cry for your attention, Mr. President. It seems that you, alongside your “kangaroo parliament,” have once again made a decision that will push the people of Sierra Leone further into the abyss of hardship. This time, it’s the Finance Act that has me and countless others wondering: What real concern do you have for the ordinary Sierra Leonean? Your latest move, the imposition of an additional 5% tax on rice, a basic necessity for all of us, has left many of us reeling. And to add insult to injury, this tax will increase to 10% in just a few years’ time. Mr. President, how much more can your people endure?
The promise of “Feed Salone,” an initiative that was supposed to improve food security and alleviate hunger, now seems like just another white elephant, a grand idea with no real legs to stand on. How can you expect the people to believe in such a scheme when you’re simultaneously driving up the cost of rice, a staple in every household? It feels like a cruel joke, Mr. President. You promise us food security on the one hand, but with the other, you take away the very means by which we can afford that food.
Mr. President, the “Finance Act” you’ve championed is nothing short of a “killer bow” for the people of Sierra Leone. Taxes are a necessary part of governance; I understand that. But when the revenues collected from these taxes are shrouded in mystery, it becomes a different story. The people have a right to know where their money is going. And yet, there is little transparency about where these tax revenues will end up or what specific public services will benefit from these additional funds.
Will these taxes go toward improving our healthcare system, which is in dire straits? Will they fix our crumbling infrastructure, or will they help modernize our education system? Or, Mr. President, will they simply line the pockets of those in power, allowing for more of the same frivolous spending that has characterized your administration thus far? Sadly, the latter seems more likely. With all the money collected into the consolidated fund, one wonders how much is actually being spent on the people versus how much is being spent on you and your inner circle.
Mr. President, as if the hardship you’ve imposed on your people wasn’t enough, you continue to gallivant across the globe with little regard for the suffering back home. Mr. President, you’re on your way to Samoa, and as you make yet another international stop, your wife is in Utah, in the United States, masquerading as an invited lecturer. I ask you, Mr. President, what has she achieved in Sierra Leone that merits her lecturing white people abroad? Is it her exemplary work here at home that she is sharing with the world? Or is this just another vanity project, designed to elevate her status while the people of Sierra Leone suffer?
We are tired, Mr. President. Tired of the hardships, the lack of progress, and the impunity with which you and your government operate. While you roam the world, making empty speeches and seeking international recognition, the people you were elected to serve are struggling to put food on the table. The disconnect between your reality and ours has never been more glaring.
Mr. President, I couldn’t help but notice the news coverage of your trip to Samoa, particularly your stopover in Sri Lanka. I saw that you were not received by the President of Sri Lanka but by their Foreign Minister instead. What a slap in the face, Mr. President! Even as you globetrot at the expense of your people, you are being treated with disdain. They see through you, Mr. President, just as we do. Your frequent travel escapades have become a running joke, and people are fed up with your constant presence at their doorstep, invited or not. As the saying goes, “Yu always dae na pipul ose!”.
Mr. President, your comments in Colombo, where you hinted that your government will soon arrange discussions between Sierra Leone and Sri Lanka at the state level, clearly pave the way for yet another diplomatic expedition. How many more trips will you make, Mr. President, before you start focusing on the real issues at home? How many more tax dollars will you squander on foreign adventures while your people languish in poverty?
Mr. President, do you even realize that it’s the very people who will bear the brunt of these tax increases? The majority of Sierra Leoneans are already living hand-to-mouth, struggling to make ends meet. The additional 5% tax on rice is not a minor inconvenience; it is a life-altering blow for families across the country. And yet, you continue to act with callous disregard for their plight.
Why is it, Mr. President, that you always seem to fail to think of the people first when making decisions that affect their wellbeing? Time and time again, you demonstrate that the concerns of the ordinary citizen are secondary to your own personal and political ambitions. The “blueprint parliament” you’ve assembled is little more than a rubber stamp for your every whim, always ready to support your every move, no matter how damaging it may be to the people.
Mr. President, you have broken the very institutions that once made our democracy a beacon of hope. The trust that the people once had in their government has been eroded under your watch. It has become clear that it’s all about you, your legacy, your travels, and your family. The voices of dissent are silenced, and the needs of the people are ignored.
Mr. President, in the eyes of many, you are no longer the President of Sierra Leone. You have become “Mr. Waka En Co.” always on the move, with no real purpose or direction. It is as though the presidency is a mere inconvenience for you, something to be tolerated only when you’re not busy jetting off to some new destination. And your parliament, Mr. President? They are nothing more than your accomplices in this betrayal of the people. A “kangaroo parliament” indeed, rubber-stamping your every move with no regard for the consequences.
Mr. President, can we talk? Can you, for once, set aside your ego and listen to the cries of your people? The path you’re on is not sustainable. The constant taxation, the wasteful spending, the extravagant foreign trips—it’s all too much for the people of Sierra Leone to bear. We are tired. We are hungry. We are desperate for real leadership, not more empty promises.
The time for change is now, Mr. President. You must stop prioritizing your personal gains and start putting the needs of the people first. Otherwise, history will remember you not as the leader who lifted Sierra Leone out of poverty but as the president who, through his neglect and self-interest, drove the country deeper into despair.
