By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
Mr. President, can we talk? There is a disease spreading across the nation. Its name is M Pox. The people are getting sick. The symptoms are painful and terrifying. Families are watching their loved ones deteriorate in agony. Communities are on edge. Yet, like a rehearsed dance of deceit, your government, Mr. President, and the health authorities are once again dragging their feet.
Mr. President, how long must Sierra Leoneans continue to live with the knowledge that whenever sickness strikes, they are on their own? How long will it take before we understand that the government only responds when there is money to be made? How long before the people realize that the lives of the poor mean absolutely nothing to those in charge?
Mr. President, the signs are everywhere. We are hearing reports of strange skin lesions, fever, body aches, and weakness. The medical workers are whispering what they see daily. Patients are being treated without proper protective gear. Hospitals are overwhelmed. Clinics are under-equipped. And as always, Mr. President, your Ministry of Health and Sanitation is nowhere to be found. Not in the field. Not in action. Not even in accountability.
What we are seeing now, Mr. President, is not unfamiliar. We saw it with Ebola. We saw it with COVID-19. And now, with monkeypox creeping through our communities, the pattern remains the same. First, denial. Then silence. Then, when the situation becomes unbearable and international partners step in, the circus begins. Workshops are organized. Billboards go up. Sensitization campaigns are announced. And overnight, health emergencies become avenues for enrichment.
Mr. President, we know the game. You know the game. We all do.
You wait. You delay. You gamble with human lives until the outbreak becomes a national crisis. Then comes the money. Millions of dollars from donors, development agencies, and humanitarian organizations. But only a trickle reaches the people in need. The rest is siphoned through bloated contracts, fictitious expenses, and crooked procurement deals.
Mr. President, is this the leadership we were promised? That when death comes knocking at our door, your people must first suffer long enough so that some government official can sign a contract with their brother’s company to print posters?
Mr. President, as I write this, real people are suffering. Children. Mothers. Fathers. Our healthcare workers are taking risks with no hazard pay, no proper masks, and certainly no assurance that anyone in your government cares about their welfare. You are not just failing the sick. You are failing the entire nation. And this time, history will not forget.
We are a country that cannot afford another pandemic. Not medically. Not economically. Not psychologically. But you and your officials seem to be hoping that M Pox becomes just that. The indifference is shameful. It is wicked. It is unpatriotic.
Mr. President, when Governor Charles MacCarthy Clarkson prayed for Sierra Leone centuries ago, his prayers were sincere. He asked for divine guidance, protection, and peace for this land. He did not pray that corrupt officials would one day rule this nation with such cruelty, incompetence, and greed. But know this. His prayers are eternal. And while you may deceive the people today, Mr. President, those prayers will rise up against you and your generation if you continue down this path of calculated neglect.
Mr. President, why is your Ministry of Health not launching a national response now? Why are they not releasing weekly updates? Where are the case numbers? Where is the public health information? Where are the educational materials? Where are the community outreach programs? Where is the data transparency?
Let us not forget that during Ebola, it took the deaths of over three thousand people for your political predecessors to finally act with urgency. During COVID-19, it took the deaths and suffering of hundreds before your Ministry of Information began spinning half-truths in press releases.
Mr. President, do you ever feel shame? Do you feel the weight of the lives lost simply because you and your team would rather wait for international aid than act decisively with local resources? Do you see the pattern of pain your governance continues to fuel?
Mr. President, the people are watching. And this time, they are not just angry. They are grieving. They are dying. They are exhausted. And they are fed up.
The health workers know that the delay is intentional. They have seen it before. They have witnessed how your government rewards silence and punishes truth. How those who try to sound the alarm early are often ignored, sidelined, or even punished. They know that the longer the disease spreads, the bigger the international check will be. And so, some stay quiet. Others play along. And those who dare to raise their voices are called enemies of progress.
Mr. President, you must change this. You must act now. Declare monkeypox a national public health threat. Allocate emergency resources. Begin aggressive testing. Launch national awareness programs through radio, television, and mobile campaigns. Partner with credible medical organizations. Set up emergency clinics in vulnerable districts. Make treatment and diagnosis free. Pay health workers what they are worth. And most importantly, make sure that every dollar meant for the people reaches the people.
Do not turn this crisis into another feeding frenzy for your political allies. Do not play politics with people’s lives. Do not gamble with destiny, Mr. President.
Governance is not about waiting until the international community steps in. True leadership is proactive. It anticipates. It prepares. It protects. But you, Mr. President, continue to fall back on the worst instincts of political survival. The truth is, many in your circle are secretly praying for this to spiral. Because when it does, the budget gates open and the looting begins.
Mr. President, this must stop. You were not elected to be a passive observer of national tragedies. You were not elected to enrich friends and cronies while the nation mourns. You were not elected to keep repeating the sins of past regimes.
You have a duty to protect this country. Not just the political elites. Not just your ministers. Not just your family. But every Sierra Leonean. Rich or poor. North or south. Rural or urban.
If you do not rise now, Mr. President, M. Pox will rise. And with it will rise the frustration, the anger, and the condemnation of a people who have had enough. You cannot keep hiding behind silence. Because silence, in the face of suffering, is complicity.
Mr. President, can we talk before it is too late?
