By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
Mr. President, Wow, you amaze me. Mr. President, it seems you’ve mastered the art of charting new trajectories to source funds while simultaneously ignoring the issues that plague the very people who entrusted you with power. Let me remind you, sir, as I’ve said time and time again in our previous conversations: “Di pipul dem taya ya.”
You owe us an explanation, Mr President. You must tell us why you decided to lift the ban on timber exports from Sierra Leone. Have you forgotten the havoc the rains wreaked just months ago? Have you ignored the devastation caused by flooding, landslides, and erosion? Climate change is not a buzzword; it’s a reality that is crippling our nation’s agricultural yields, disrupting livelihoods, and endangering lives. Yet, instead of addressing this existential crisis, you’re actively exacerbating it by selling off one of our most valuable assets, our forests.
Mr. President, why would you make such a shortsighted decision? To add insult to injury, you sent “Prince” Dr. Kandeh Yumkella to Baku for the COP29 Summit, ostensibly to represent Sierra Leone. But let’s not kid ourselves. We all know you didn’t send him because of a genuine commitment to climate action. No, you sent him because you refused to downgrade flying commercials like an ordinary citizen. You wanted to avoid the embarrassment of not having the funds to charter your usual private jet. How can you expect us to take your government’s climate initiatives seriously when your actions are hypocritical?
Mr. President, our natural resources are not your personal ATM. Yes, Mr. President, you heard me well; it is not your personal ATM. You have already handed over our marine resources to the Chinese for next to nothing. Our fish stocks are depleted, our waters polluted, and the communities that depend on them left with empty nets and empty stomachs. Now you’ve turned your sights to our forests, lifting the ban on timber exports so you can fund your endless travels and lavish lifestyle. Is this how you intend to raise funds for your next private jet escapade?
“R Sweh to God, yu don pass Mak Naw.” You’ve sold off our fish. You’ve sold our sand on our beaches. Our minerals are gone, leaving behind environmental scars and broken promises. The revenue from these deals is nowhere to be seen. The roads remain unpaved, the schools underfunded, and the hospitals overcrowded. Where is the accountability, Mr. President? What have we, the people, gained from the sale of our nation’s inheritance?
Mr. President, do you think we don’t see what’s happening? You’ve ignored our cries, dismissed our concerns, and made decisions without consulting the people you claim to serve. This timber deal is yet another example of how you prioritize your government’s coffers and your personal agenda over the well-being of Sierra Leoneans. Do you remember what you promised during your campaign? You spoke of sustainability, of protecting our natural heritage for future generations. Where is that commitment now?
You need to take a lesson from our neighbours. The Liberian President recently traveled from Monrovia to Freetown by road, demonstrating humility and a connection with the people he serves. Yet here you are, unable to attend even local events without chartering a flight and pocketing per diem for your troubles. Mr. President, do you think we don’t notice this stark contrast? Leadership is not about extravagance; it’s about service, humility, and accountability.
“Net long tae doe go klin.” Mr. President, The patience of the people is wearing thin. You cannot continue to exploit Sierra Leone’s resources, disregard the environmental and social consequences, and expect us to stay silent. The lifting of the timber export ban is the latest in a long list of betrayals, and it’s one we won’t forget.
Instead of selling off what remains of our nation’s wealth, why not focus on real solutions? Why not invest in reforestation, sustainable agriculture, and renewable energy? Why not tackle corruption, which bleeds millions from our budget every year? Why not address the inefficiencies in governance that keep us perpetually dependent on aid and loans?
Mr. President, you must remember this. The forests you’ve just opened to exploitation are not just trees. They are homes to wildlife, protectors against climate change, and sources of livelihood for countless communities. When the last tree falls, when the rains come and the landslides follow, what will you tell us then? Will you blame it on global warming, or will you finally admit that your policies paved the way for disaster?
Sierra Leone deserves better, Mr. President; we deserve a leader who understands the gravity of the climate crisis and acts accordingly. We deserve a government that prioritizes its people over profits, sustainability over short-term gains, and transparency over corruption. We deserve leadership that doesn’t just speak of progress but demonstrates it through action.
So, Mr. President, can we talk? Can we have an honest conversation about the direction this country is headed and how your decisions are affecting the lives of ordinary Sierra Leoneans? Can we discuss why you continue to charter flights while our healthcare system crumbles, our children go uneducated, and our roads remain death traps?
Can we talk about why you think it’s acceptable to sell off our resources without consulting the people to whom they belong? We’re waiting for answers, Mr. President. But more than that, we’re waiting for change. And make no mistake, if that change doesn’t come, the people of Sierra Leone will have the final word. “Wi di pipul dem wi don taya wi don fed up ya.”
