By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
Mr. President, today I want us to talk, not about politics, not about spin, not about rehearsed speeches or hired journalists. Let’s talk frankly, openly, and as Sierra Leoneans. Let us talk exclusively about something that has once again become the subject of public outrage and deep national embarrassment: Forbes Africa Magazine.
Mr. President, what has come over you? What really are you trying to prove to the international community that you cannot explain to us, the very people who entrusted you with leadership? Why are you more concerned about selling a false image to outsiders than being accountable to the very citizens you pledged to serve? You tell the world we are thriving, progressing, and transforming, but what about us, Mr. President? What do we, the citizens of Sierra Leone, see and live through every day?
Let me agree with you for a moment. Let’s say you are indeed trying to sell Sierra Leone’s image in a bid to attract foreign investors. That would be noble, if only it were based on truth. But tell me, who exactly do you think will be convinced to invest in Sierra Leone when the reality on the ground is so far from the glossy fantasy painted by FORBES AFRICA MAGAZINE?
Forbes Africa is no longer a beacon of objective journalism, Mr. President. It has become a paid-for public relations pamphlet, parroting the talking points of authoritarian leaders across Africa who are willing to exchange truth for temporary glorification. It is the mouthpiece of dishonest leadership, not the watchdog of democratic truth. And in partnering with them, Mr. President, you have joined the ranks of those who wish to cover their failings with expensive lies.
It pains every honest Sierra Leonean to see their reality insulted and whitewashed. To hear you, Mr. President, stand before the world and claim that you have made significant progress in improving the lives of ordinary citizens is not only insulting, it is heart-wrenching.
Let us then ask the most basic of questions, and please, Mr. President, answer not as a politician, but as a man of conscience:
What tangible program have you successfully completed since April 2018, when you assumed office?
We are not asking for fantasy. We are not asking for vision statements. We are asking for results. Where are they?
You promised us quality education. What we got is mass failure.
You promised us jobs. What we got is a mass exodus and street-hawking graduates.
You promised us health care. What we got is funerals for lack of oxygen and medicine.
You promised us food security. What we got is skyrocketing rice prices and farmers with no tools.
Mr. President, why go to such lengths to create an image that cannot stand the test of local truth? Why do you want the world to believe that Sierra Leone is some kind of investment paradise when even our own people cannot find light, water, or affordable transport?
Look at your ministers, from finance to agriculture, each parroting the same falsehoods, backed by selective statistics and well-edited photographs. Add to that the local business elites who have perfected the art of lying to access government favors, contracts, and untaxed profits. Together, they paint a fantasy of a country where the streets are paved with opportunity. But on the ground, Mr. President, we walk through potholes, literal and metaphorical, every single day.
You came to power with grand, almost utopian promises. You knew they were impossible, but still you sold them to desperate people. That is what makes it more painful. Now you want to cover the rot with a publication that has clearly been bought, not convinced. That is not leadership, Mr. President. That is betrayal.
Let me bring you news, sir:
No serious investor will fall for this charade.
The world has changed. Investors are smarter now. They have analysts, on-the-ground intelligence, and access to global data. They know Sierra Leone is suffering. They know that despite your promises, our institutions are broken, our people are disillusioned, and our economy is bleeding.
What foreign investor would put their money in a country where electricity is a luxury, not a right? Where water runs dry and roads are death traps? Where agriculture has been reduced to personal farms for ministers and fishponds for their cousins?
Where is 24-hour electricity only available in the homes of high-ranking government officials, while the rest of the country sits in darkness?
What investor would trust a government that cannot secure its borders, or worse, that enables drug traffickers like Jos Leijdekkers, a known European drug kingpin, who somehow found refuge and influence in your administration?
Mr. President, that was your one great investment: a drug baron who not only infiltrated our economy but is rumored to be connected to your own daughter, whom you appointed to our diplomatic mission at the United Nations. What a legacy.
Is this what the “New Direction” meant all along? Because to us, it looks more like misdirection, a road paved with broken promises, half-truths, and outright lies. If you truly believe in transparency and transformation, Mr. President, then show it. Speak the truth. Accept failure if you must, but don’t lie to us and the world in the same breath.
There is dignity in honesty, Mr. President. There is leadership in admitting when one has lost the way. If you know the ship has veered off course, don’t steer it further into the iceberg. Own up. Take responsibility. Give us closure.
The lies are too much. The pain is too real. And the future is too uncertain for us to continue like this.
Let us talk, Mr. President. Not through the pages of paid magazines or the echo chambers of your cabinet, but openly, with your people. The ones eating once a day. The ones praying for light. The ones sleeping at the doors of hospitals, waiting for the medicine that never comes. The ones leaving the country because they cannot dream here anymore.
Let us talk. For real. Not the talk of press conferences and PR tours. But the talk of redemption, of reflection, and of responsibility.
You still have the power, Mr. President, not to rewrite the past, but to reshape the present, to face the truth, and to stop this dangerous dance with deception.
Your legacy is being written now, not by Forbes Africa, but by the cries of your people. Hear them, Mr. President. Hear us.
And if you can no longer lead us forward with truth, then at least do not drag us further backward with lies.
Mr. President, Can We Talk? Because if not now, then when?
Alpha Amadu Jalloh is a concerned Sierra Leonean and a consistent voice for truth in the face of national decay.
