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, I return again not because I enjoy repeating myself but because the wounds of our nation remain open, bleeding, and unattended. Mr. President, can we talk? This is not political theatre. This is not opposition rhetoric. This is a desperate cry from a citizen watching his country sink further into chaos while the captain of the ship stands still, unmoved and unbothered.
Mr. President, the people are not just disappointed. They are heartbroken. Heartbroken that the promise of a new direction has become a painful reminder that even the most hopeful slogans can turn into bitter regrets. Mr. President, what have we become under your watch?
Mr. President, the issue of Yenga remains unresolved. It is not a forgotten border. It is not an irrelevant village. It is sovereign Sierra Leonean soil. Yet, while Guinean troops and settlers consolidate control, your government sits idle. Mr. President, your response has been weak, delayed, and insulting to those who believe in our flag. Where is the diplomatic action? Where is the international legal effort? Mr. President, your silence is surrender, and your inaction is betrayal.
Mr. President, Yenga is a test of your leadership, and you are failing. You are failing the people of Kailahun. You are failing the Republic. You are failing the memory of those who fought to keep our borders sacred.
Mr. President, the scandal involving the First Lady has not died down. It has intensified. Each day brings more details and more evidence of reckless spending, abuse of power, and state resources being treated like personal inheritance. Mr. President, we do not need another photo of the First Lady on an international red carpet. We need answers.
Mr. President, you know the truth, yet you choose silence. You know the suffering of the people, yet you choose distance. You know the damage this crisis is doing to your legacy, yet you choose inaction. Mr. President, why?
Mr. President, let us return to Jos Leijdekkers. His name is not forgotten. His activities are not erased. His ties to powerful individuals are not invisible. Mr. President, the people believe your government protected him. The people believe there was state complicity. And your refusal to launch a transparent investigation only confirms their fears.
Mr. President, drug networks do not thrive without political protection. And your administration’s silence in the face of this national and international embarrassment is disgraceful. Our youth are drowning in addiction while you attend summits and ceremonies. Mr. President, how can you sleep at night?
Mr. President, it is becoming harder to distinguish between the presidency and a royal household. The display of unchecked power, the air of untouchability, and the entitlement to wealth and immunity—these are not characteristics of a democratic republic. These are symptoms of something more dangerous.
Mr. President, the continued occupation of government property by the First Lady, even after your move to the State House, is not just unethical. It is shameless. When ordinary citizens are evicted for failing to pay rent, when families sleep in slums and flood-prone shanties, how can the First Lady cling to a property that belongs to the people? Mr. President, this is not leadership. This is elitism.
Mr. President, your ministers remain cowards in suits. Not one has stepped forward to challenge the misconduct. Not one has defended the people’s right to transparency. Not one has resigned in protest. Mr. President, your cabinet’s silence is consent, and your party’s silence is complicity.
Mr. President, our youth no longer believe. They no longer trust the system. They are turning to migration, to drugs, to crime, or to despair. They are watching, and they are learning, not from what you say but from what you allow.
Mr. President, they see that corruption is celebrated. They see that impunity is rewarded. They see that speaking truth is punished. They see that silence, like yours, is the golden key to survival in politics.
Mr. President, they deserve better. We all do.
Mr. President, Sierra Leone is bleeding, not from war but from betrayal. Betrayal by those entrusted to serve. Betrayal by those who took oaths and now use those oaths as shields. Betrayal by a First Family that behaves more like rulers than servants.
Mr. President, let this be clear. If the First Lady is innocent, let her prove it in court, not through choreographed interviews. If she is guilty, let her face the law. Mr. President, you do not need to destroy your marriage, but you must save your nation. The presidency is not a shelter for the First Lady. It is a symbol of justice, service, and responsibility.
Mr. President, you must order an independent inquiry, not one led by your loyalists but one respected by the people. You must address the nation, not through vague speeches but with clarity, courage, and confession. You must reclaim the integrity of your office before there is nothing left to salvage.
Mr. President, even your own party is whispering. Your silence is becoming a liability. Your refusal to act is cracking the unity of your base. Your credibility is evaporating in real time.
Mr. President, do not think that foreign travel will wash away domestic disgrace. Do not think that endorsements abroad can heal the betrayal felt at home. The truth will outlive your spin. The people will remember not your speeches but your silences.
Mr. President, this is your chance to make a final stand for the Republic, not for the party, not for your wife, not for your legacy, but for Sierra Leone.
Mr. President, to make matters worse, there are now troubling reports spreading like wildfire that Guinean forces have taken parts of Kambia and Karene. Mr. President, is this true? Have we now ceded even more of our land without resistance, without protest, without explanation?
Mr. President, if these reports are even remotely accurate, then this nation is not just under threat. It is under attack. And what is your response? Another trip abroad. Another photo op in London. Another silence wrapped in protocol. Mr. President, who are you addressing in London? What urgent matter outweighs the quiet invasion of our territory? Only Allah Subhannah Wa Ta’ala, God Almighty, knows.
Mr. President, Sierra Leone is not just slipping through your fingers. It is being torn apart at the seams. And you, the man who was once trusted with its stewardship, are nowhere to be found when it matters most.
Mr. President, can we talk before what is left becomes too little to save?
