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, sometimes one cannot help but laugh, not out of disrespect, not out of disdain, but because the contradictions coming from your government have reached a level of absurdity that would make even a comedian pause. Mr. President, can we talk? Because what your Minister of Information and Civic Education, Chernor Abdulai Bah, said recently about the leader of Burkina Faso, Ibrahim Traoré, is not only disgraceful, it is downright ridiculous.
Mr. President, when your minister referred to President Ibrahim Traoré as a dictator while praising your government as a model of democracy, I was tempted to giggle. And I did. Not because I disrespect you, Mr. President, but because it is laughable to witness a man who represents a government that shuts down media, imprisons critics, rigs elections, and runs the country like a private estate call out another man as a dictator. Mr. President, who is fooling who?
Mr. President, it becomes even more absurd when Minister Bah expresses outrage over the positive publicity President Traoré is receiving from Russian bloggers. He condemns what he describes as propaganda, some of which I agree is clearly the work of artificial intelligence. But Mr. President, are you telling us that your government does not engage in paid publicity? Are we to pretend we do not see the hired PR machines your administration deploys on social media and international platforms to present a glossy image while the people at home suffer?
Mr. President, let us ask the real question. What truly separates your government from that of Ibrahim Traoré? Is it elections? Is it parliament? Is it civil liberties? Mr. President, let us not insult the intelligence of Sierra Leoneans. We are not living in a democracy. We are living under an authoritarian system dressed in democratic robes. This is not people’s power. This is one-man rule under a leader who has outgrown the very shoes he was elected to wear.
Mr. President, democracy is not simply about holding elections. It is about transparency. It is about accountability. It is about the rule of law. It is about allowing the press to speak freely, citizens to protest peacefully, and institutions to operate without fear of executive interference. In Sierra Leone today, none of these exist.
Mr. President, it is a fact that your administration suppresses dissent. Journalists live in fear. Activists are monitored and threatened. Opposition figures are targeted and arrested. Courtrooms have become theatres for political revenge, and Parliament functions more like a rubber stamp than a forum for national debate. Mr. President, is this what you call democracy?
Mr. President, let us talk about the elephant in the room. Or perhaps I should say, the First Lady in the Lodge. Your wife, Fatima Bio, has become a co-president in all but title. Never in our history has a First Lady wielded this much unchecked power. Mr. President, it is not just troubling; it is unprecedented.
Mr. President, your wife speaks on behalf of the government. She travels on state resources. She issues public statements with the full weight of the presidency. She acts without any official portfolio yet commands more influence than elected officials. Mr. President, how did we get here?
Mr. President, did you see her latest post on social media following your address at Oxford? She proudly said “we” were invited to Oxford to speak. “We” were honored to share ideas. “We” believe in development. Mr. President, she was not referring to Sierra Leone. She was referring to herself and you. Since when did “we” become two presidents in one State House?
Mr. President, this is a serious matter. State functions are not a marital affair. National leadership is not a partnership of affection. It is a constitutional duty entrusted to the elected president, not the unelected spouse. Mr. President, your silence in the face of your wife’s expanding influence is deafening. By doing nothing, you are doing everything. You are endorsing it.
Mr. President, now there are new allegations that the First Lady is involved in subletting her house in London despite reportedly residing at the State Lodge and using public funds for overseas travel and accommodation. If this is true, it is not only a breach of ethics, it may also be a violation of UK tenancy laws and a violation of public trust in Sierra Leone. Mr. President, she should be investigated. If the facts hold, she should be arrested and made to face the law. No one is above the law, not even the wife of the President.
Mr. President, I know these words are not easy to hear. I know the truth is uncomfortable. But leadership is not about comfort. It is about responsibility. Your administration is slowly, but surely, turning Sierra Leone into a country where fear reigns and facts are denied. And while your ministers mock other leaders abroad, the rot within your own government deepens.
Mr. President, instead of attacking Ibrahim Traoré, maybe your government should learn from the anger that drove young people in Burkina Faso to seek something different. Whether he is right or wrong, Traoré emerged because people felt betrayed by decades of fake democracy, corruption, and foreign dependency. The same conditions exist in Sierra Leone today. The same frustration simmers beneath the surface. And the same betrayal is being felt.
Mr. President, we have become a country of appearances. A country of speeches and suits. A country of ceremonies and press releases. But beneath the surface, there is hunger, there is disillusionment, and there is rising resentment.
Mr. President, if you truly believe Sierra Leone is a democracy, then prove it. Let journalists write without fear. Let the courts operate independently. Let civil society function freely. Let opposition parties campaign without harassment. Let the people protest when they disagree. Until then, democracy remains nothing more than a word on a podium.
Mr. President, democracy is not only what you say. It is what you do. It is what you allow. And it is what you refuse to silence.
Mr. President, the time has come for deep reflection. You can continue to pretend, or you can correct course. You can continue to defend the indefensible, or you can admit that this administration has lost its way.
Mr. President, when people laugh at your ministers, it is not always because they are rude. Sometimes it is because the lies have become too obvious and the truth too painful to ignore. Mr. President, when I giggled at Chernor Bah’s comments, I did not do so out of disrespect. I did so out of despair. Because nothing exposes the dysfunction of your government more than when it tries to paint itself as a beacon of democracy while doing everything a dictator would do.
Mr. President, can we talk? Can we be honest for once? Can we accept that Sierra Leone is not moving forward, but in circles? Can we finally admit that what we call democracy today is nothing more than a dictatorship wearing the borrowed clothes of civil rule?
Mr. President, the people are tired. They are not blind. They see what is happening. And if they do not speak today, it is not because they agree. It is because they are watching. Waiting. Preparing. And history will record it all.
Mr. President, can we talk before this farce becomes our fate?
