By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
Mr. President, I come before you once again, not out of disrespect but out of duty to my country and my people. Today, let us talk about the so-called presidential town hall meetings. A concept that could have been a bridge between you and the suffering masses has become nothing more than a stage-managed charade. A platform that was supposed to foster dialogue, understanding, and accountability has instead turned into a tool for one-sided propaganda.
Mr. President, let us be clear. The idea of a presidential town hall meeting is not new. In real democracies, such meetings are meant to create a space where the people can talk to their president, and the president, in turn, can listen, reflect, and act. It is supposed to be a conversation, a dialogue, a chance for the leader of the nation to feel the pulse of the people. But under your government and under the dictatorship of your Information Minister, this process has become deeply flawed.
What we see today is not a town hall meeting. It is not a dialogue. It is not a platform for the people to engage with their leader. It is a carefully choreographed event designed to give you, Mr. President, a space to talk at the people, not to them. It is a space where you and your ministers speak down to citizens, telling them what you want them to hear while ignoring what they so desperately want to say.
Mr. President, this is not a town hall meeting. This is a lecture series. And worse, it is a one-sided conversation where only your voice matters. Where are the voices of the market woman struggling to feed her family? Where are the voices of the unemployed youth who see no future in this country? Where are the voices of the teachers, the nurses, the farmers, the traders, and the okada riders? The voices of the people are drowned out by a well-oiled propaganda machine that only allows applause, praise, and staged questions.
The truth is that your town hall meetings were never designed to be reciprocal. They were designed as platforms for self-praise, for empty promises, and for your ministers to show off their loyalty. The people see this. They feel it. And they are tired of it.
Mr. President, do you remember the one and only actual thing that came close to looking like a real town hall meeting with you? The one moment when the people thought they would finally have the chance to engage with you honestly and openly. That moment was destroyed the very day your Information Minister, Mr. Chernor Bah, decided to step in and silence the people.
That was the day the mask slipped. That was the day we all saw that these meetings are not about dialogue. They are about control. They are about intimidation. They are about managing the narrative, not listening to the people. Since that day, Mr. President, we all knew it was a façade. We all saw that these meetings were never meant to give the people a voice. They were designed to give you a platform to talk without being challenged.
Mr. President, I ask you today. Is this what you call leadership? Is this what you promised when you spoke of a New Direction? Is this the democracy you say you are building? A democracy where the people must listen but never speak. A democracy where ministers act like dictators, silencing any voice that dares to question or demand accountability.
Your information minister has turned what could have been a powerful tool for national unity into a symbol of fear and control. He manages these so-called town hall meetings like a private project, ensuring that no real voices are heard, that no tough questions are asked, and that no uncomfortable truths reach your ears. He has created a fortress around you, Mr. President. A fortress of lies, staged applause, and scripted speeches.
And you, Mr. President, seem content within this fortress. But I must tell you, it is a dangerous place to be. A leader who surrounds himself with lies will never see the truth. A leader who shuts out the voices of his people will one day wake up to find that he has lost their hearts.
Mr. President, the people do not want staged meetings. They do not want propaganda. They do not want empty speeches and carefully managed events. They want real engagement. They want to talk to you. They want to tell you about their struggles, their pains, and their hopes. And they want you to listen, not just hear, but truly listen and act.
Imagine how powerful it would have been if you had embraced the town hall concept for what it should be. Imagine if you had walked into those meetings with an open heart and an open mind, ready to face tough questions, ready to admit failures, and ready to promise and deliver change. That would have been leadership. That would have been courage. That would have been the New Direction you promised.
But instead, what we see is a game. A game of deception. A game where the people are expected to clap for their own suffering. A game where the only voices that matter are those that flatter you and feed your ego.
Mr. President, it is not too late to change course. It is not too late to break free from the dictatorship of your information minister. It is not too late to reclaim the town hall meeting as a true platform of dialogue and accountability. But it requires humility. It requires honesty. And it requires the courage to face the people without a script, without a shield of sycophants, and without fear of the truth.
The people are watching. Sierra Leone is watching. And history is watching. Mr. President, will you continue this charade, or will you rise and lead as the people deserve?
