By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
Mr. President, as you find yourself exposed and questioned at every turn, I write today as a reminder of life’s realities, hoping it may prompt some reflection on the path you and your government have chosen. You see, as we the people continue to grapple with hardships, most of which stem directly from your administration’s policies and priorities, it becomes painfully clear that governance, under your watch, has become not just ineffective but burdensome. And as you make decisions that affect millions, it’s worth considering these simple truths about the nature of power, wealth, and humanity.
Mr. President, whether a person drives a modest “Keke” (three-wheeled taxi) or rides an expensive “Range Rover” on our potholed roads, the road remains the same. The destination, the experience of the journey, is shared, regardless of the vehicle’s luxury. Similarly, whether you fly economy or charter your own plane, the destination and distance remain unchanged. The fancy seating and service are superficial; the journey, ultimately, is the same.
The same goes for the time we keep. A Rolex or a Motema watch may carry different price tags, but both tell the same time. The brand of phone you use, whether it’s an Apple, Samsung, Nokia, or Techno, will still connect you to the same people. The gadgets and trappings of wealth are just that—trappings. They create illusions of status but add little of real value to the human experience. There’s nothing inherently wrong with dreaming of a luxurious life, but we must remember that when need transforms into greed, we venture into dangerous territory. Needs can be met; greed, however, can never be satisfied.
It’s with this wisdom in mind, passed down by our village elders, that I bring to you an age-old saying: “Pekin Sabi Run but E nor Sabi Hide.” You may know how to run, Mr. President, but running won’t shield you forever. Your thirst for wealth and power, shared by those close to you, seems boundless. It has left the nation questioning the depths of your ambition. How can the nation progress when those in power are constantly indulging themselves at the expense of those they’re meant to serve?
One need only to look around to see your government officials, party allies, and stalwarts spending extravagantly, it seems, not just on personal luxuries but on buying loyalty, wielding influence, and controlling narratives. Mr. President, do you not see the irony? The harder you try to shore up support through wealth and influence, the more you reveal the very weaknesses you seek to hide. Those who are sincere in their dedication to Sierra Leone’s progress, those brave enough to point out flaws in your administration, seem to face relentless backlash. Critics, from auditor-general Lara Taylor-Pearce to other patriots, have been silenced, sidelined, and bullied for daring to stand against corruption and inefficiency.
This habit of sidelining good, hardworking Sierra Leoneans who are willing to serve with integrity has only intensified the suffering of the people. Our country’s institutions are weaker because of it. The people, meanwhile, continue to suffer due to a lack of reliable infrastructure, health services, and educational opportunities. This suffering is not a matter of fate; it is a direct result of your administration’s insatiable thirst for wealth, fame, and power, a pursuit that appears to go hand-in-hand with personal gain, regardless of the impact on the people.
Mr. President, the signs are all around us, and they are becoming harder to ignore. We see you and your wife behaving as though wealth were an unknown thrill, spending with an abandon that borders on recklessness, seemingly unaware of the desperate conditions the majority of Sierra Leoneans endure. No sane leader, truly in touch with his people, would adopt such disregard for the public welfare.
Do you recall our forebears’ words of caution? “Na fo sidom en memba sae yu get fo die wan day en yu nor go kerr shilling, bob yu nor go kerr na yu grave.” All the wealth, all the power, all the influence in the world—none of it will accompany you beyond this life. What, then, will be your legacy?
This brings me to another, more practical matter. It’s time to address the wave of “unemployed” you now have in the SLPP offices across the country. These are individuals once used for your purposes, individuals who helped maintain your grip on power. They’ve been used, misused, and now discarded. Many are now idle, left without support or purpose, a stark reminder of the cynical politics that govern Sierra Leone today. What would you say if your own children were in their place? Would you discard them so easily? Would you send them off without guidance, a future, or support?
These are the people who propelled you forward, who fought for your cause, and who believed in your vision. And yet, like so many others, they’ve abandoned their loyalty and cast aside it when it became inconvenient. What kind of leader treats their supporters this way?
It is becoming painfully clear, Mr. President, that the current path of governance has failed the nation. We need leadership grounded in humility, not in wealth or vanity. Our leaders should be reminded that they are not superior to those they serve but are in their positions to work for the common good.
Mr. President, you have squandered the goodwill of the people, who once looked to you as a beacon of hope. Now, they feel disillusioned, betrayed, and used. When people cannot afford basic amenities and struggle for clean water, healthcare, education, and employment yet see their leaders living in opulence, the disconnect becomes impossible to ignore.
The people’s patience, Mr. President, is not infinite. They deserve to see their government working in their interest, providing honest services, and fostering opportunities for a better future. This will never happen if their leaders continue to indulge in extravagance while ignoring the core issues that affect the daily lives of millions.
Before I leave you, Mr. President, as you and your administration continue down this path, remember that history does not forget. The people of Sierra Leone will not forget, and eventually, they will demand accountability. It is not too late to pivot. Choose humility, choose service, and choose the people. Only then can you begin to heal the rift between your administration and the citizens of this nation. They need a leader who sees them, who hears them, and who respects the responsibilities of office, not someone chasing fleeting dreams of power and riches.
So, I ask once more, with the simple wisdom of our elders echoing: “Pekin Sabi Run, but E nor Sabi Hide.” Mr. President, you can only run so far. One day, you will have to face the people and answer for the choices you have made. Make the right ones now, while you still can.
