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, as the days pass and the silence from your leadership deepens, the fear among citizens only grows louder. Mr. President, can we talk again? Or have we reached the point where even talking is seen as a threat?
Mr. President, let us talk about the Siaka Stevens Stadium. For almost three years now, that project has been in the news. You announced it with pride. You brought in the cameras. You promised transformation. Yet today, the stadium remains fenced, unfinished, and largely untouched. Meanwhile, over forty million United States dollars were allocated to the project. Mr. President, what has been done? Where is the progress? And more importantly, where has the money gone?
Mr. President, this is not just a delay. It is a scandal. It is a mirror of your administration’s priorities. You focus on ceremony over substance, announcement over delivery, and projection over performance. The people deserve to know the truth. Is the project stalled because of mismanagement? Corruption? Lack of planning? Mr. President, what has your government done with the funds?
Mr. President, while stadium seats remain empty, our streets are in darkness. Power cuts have become part of daily life. Businesses suffer. Children cannot study. Hospitals cannot operate. And yet, the government remains mute. The issue of Karpower remains unresolved. Mr. President, have you paid the ninety million dollars owed to Karpower?
Mr. President, you continue to hire and fire officials at EDSA as if changing leadership alone will solve the crisis. The real issue is not personnel. It is purpose. That institution is now infested with people who carry PhDs but know nothing about energy, nothing about reform, and nothing about delivery. Mr. President, when did the criteria for managing national utilities become academic qualifications instead of proven performance?
Mr. President, Sierra Leoneans are tired of rhetoric. They want light. They want stability. They want systems that work. It is embarrassing that in 2025, we still talk about basic electricity as if it is a luxury. Mr. President, where is the long-term energy plan? Where is the commitment to solar, hydro, and renewable development? Where is the leadership?
Mr. President, while you spend millions refurbishing stadiums that remain incomplete, the lights in your nation continue to go out. This is not just failure. This is a national shame.
Mr. President, let us talk about the fear in the country. Let us talk about Dr. Chernoh Alpha M. Bah of the Africanist Press. A Sierra Leonean who has spoken boldly for justice and reform. Today, he is being asked to visit home, but like many of us, he fears for his safety. He fears that criticism is no longer welcome. He fears that what happened to Hawa Hunt could happen to him. And that fear is not unfounded.
Mr. President, I too am afraid. I fear that my words, my questions, and my opinions could become my offense. That speaking out could mean being targeted. That writing could become evidence. That truth could become treason. This is the Sierra Leone we are living in. A place where patriotism is dangerous and silence is rewarded.
Mr. President, how can you call yourself the father of democracy when you are allergic to criticism? Not from the press. Not from the people. Not even from within your own party. You govern with a clenched fist, not an open hand.
Mr. President, democracy thrives on dialogue, not dictatorship. It grows through openness, not oppression. It requires leaders to listen, not lash out. But your administration has made disagreement a crime. It has turned Parliament into a choir and the press into a target.
Mr. President, many Sierra Leoneans in the diaspora want to return home and contribute. But they hesitate. They fear the unknown. They fear being watched. They fear being labeled. They fear the doors that once welcomed them will now jail them.
Mr. President, this climate of fear is poisoning the soul of our nation. The stadium will not erase it. The photos and PR will not distract us. The truth is staring you in the face.
Mr. President, the question is not whether you know. The question is why you remain silent. Why do you refuse to act? Why do you allow decay to become policy and failure to become culture?
Mr. President, let us talk about the Millennium Challenge Corporation. For years, this symbol of international confidence in our institutions gave hope that Sierra Leone was on the right track. You spoke about passing the MCC scorecard with pride. You said we would receive funding to develop key infrastructure. But today, nobody knows where that compact stands. Was it revoked? Quietly abandoned? Or simply fumbled?
Mr. President, the people deserve an answer. The MCC Compact was never a gift to your administration. It was a vote of confidence in the people of Sierra Leone. Today, that confidence appears to have been betrayed. America does not play politics with development. They demand accountability, transparency, and democratic credibility.
Mr. President, make our laugh small, ba. Nor vex. Ar just dae feel say America under Joe Biden bin shinka yu.
Mr. President, the joke is bitter because the truth is painful. You missed an opportunity to prove that Sierra Leone can be trusted with serious funding, not just emergency aid. You missed a moment to uplift our national reputation. Now, all we are left with is silence and suspicion.
Mr. President, this is not what democracy looks like. It is not what leadership feels like. It is not what the people of this country voted for.
Mr. President, can we talk before patriotism becomes a prison sentence? Before dissent becomes exile? Before truth becomes forbidden? Can we talk before you lead Sierra Leone into a darkness that not even Karpower or EDSA can switch back on?
