By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
Author of Monopoly of Happiness: Unveiling Sierra Leone’s Social Imbalance
Recipient of the Africa Renaissance Leadership Award 2025
Mr. President, once again, you have disappointed the people of Sierra Leone, not only by what you have done, but more painfully, by what you have failed to do.
A foreign pastor, Evangelist Dag Heward-Mills, stepped onto a stage in our country and insulted us, calling Sierra Leoneans “thieves and liars.” Not only did he spew this toxic rhetoric, but the interpreter, instead of merely translating, emphasized the insults with glee, mocking our people in a language they understand. And yet, Mr. President, you stood by silently. There was no rebuke, no public condemnation, and not even the symbolic gesture of declaring this man “persona non grata” and giving him seventy-two hours to leave our land.
Instead, you allowed this insult to go unpunished. You allowed this man to walk into our country, belittle us on our own soil, and walk out with applause, all under your watch. This, Mr. President, is not leadership. It is complicity.
What hurts more is that this was no household name. Dag Heward-Mills was, to many Sierra Leoneans, an unknown figure until now. And now, his legacy here is one of contempt and condescension. Yet, he was given a stage, a platform, a microphone, and even government support to carry out a public spiritual assassination of our collective dignity.
Mr. President, where was your voice?
Where was the Ministry of Information and Civic Education? Where were our Christian leaders? Did they not hear the venom wrapped in scripture? Did they not see the national pride torn apart in the name of religion?
The Holy Bible, which this man claims to preach, teaches, “Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer every man.” (Colossians 4:6). A true man of God preaches with humility and love, not arrogance and condemnation. He does not come to mock the people he claims to want to save. If this man believed we were lost, he should have prayed for us, not insulted us.
But even more alarming, Mr. President, is your silence. It reveals something deeper: a deliberate attempt to manipulate the religious sentiments of our people. As I’ve said before in our metaphorical conversations, often dismissed by you as “disrespectful,” you believe you can play with the intelligence of Sierra Leoneans. You assume that because religion runs deep in our culture, you can exploit it to distract us from the true problems plaguing this nation.
But let me be clear, our problem is not spiritual. Our problem is you, your wife, your government, and the parasitic network that surrounds you.
How can you allow a foreign preacher to speak as though all of us—our teachers, our farmers, our nurses, and our youth—are criminals and liars? How can you stand silently while a stranger pours shame on a people who are already struggling with hardship and betrayal from their own leaders?
“Aw, dis man go call wi Ol na di kontri tiff man en lie man dem?” How did we arrive at a place where Sierra Leoneans are insulted with impunity and their president says nothing?
Everything you touch, Mr. President, turns rotten. From healthcare to education, agriculture to transportation, and now even our spirituality, your leadership has brought decay. This evangelist was not an answer to our prayers; he was a mirror reflecting the chaos of your government. You welcomed him not to heal the nation but to shield your incompetence under the cover of religious performance.
Mr. President, are you telling us that Sierra Leone no longer has men and women of God? Are their prayers no longer heard by the Almighty? Must we now import spirituality the way we import rice? The implication is clear: that our people are condemned unless a foreigner prays for us. But who gave him that authority? Who gave him the moral license to insult us?
And more importantly, who gave him the platform?
You did, Mr. President. Your administration allowed it. You endorsed it. You enabled it. And now, you sit back and pretend not to notice the backlash.
This is more than religious embarrassment; it is a national disgrace. Your silence, Mr. President, has spoken louder than any sermon. And what it tells people is this: their dignity can be traded for convenience.
Let’s be honest, this was a calculated move. You knew that religion resonates deeply in Sierra Leone. You hoped that by allowing a “man of God” to speak, people would forget about the hardship, the corruption, the unemployment, and the decay. You wanted them to blame spiritual forces instead of failed governance. But the people are no longer asleep, Mr. President.
They know the truth. The demon plaguing this country is not invisible, wears a suit, flies first class, and signs decrees. The demon is “misgovernance.” And the people are not fooled anymore.
Still, I believe it is not too late if you are willing to change.
You can start by doing what a leader with integrity would have done: apologize to the people for allowing their dignity to be insulted under the guise of prayer. Disassociate yourself and your government from that shameful gathering. Make it clear that Sierra Leoneans, no matter their struggles, are proud and dignified people who will not be mocked.
Secondly, refocus your leadership. Enough of the awards, the conferences, and the empty speeches abroad. Stay home. Fix the hospitals. Rehabilitate the schools. Reviving agriculture. Listen to the people instead of flattering foreign audiences. Sierra Leone does not need imported pastors. Sierra Leone needs results.
The people are growing weary, Mr. President. We may be poor, but we are not ignorant. We may be quiet, but we are not deaf. We may be respectful, but we are not fools. There is a limit to every tolerance.
Mr. President, you can still salvage your legacy if you act now, if you lead with humility, and if you restore dignity to the people you swore to serve. Do not confuse the silence of the people with satisfaction. Their silence may just be the calm before a storm.
I will continue to write, to speak, and to challenge you, not because I hate you, but because I love Sierra Leone more than I fear your wrath. This country deserves better. We the people deserve better. And we will not be insulted into submission.
