By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
Mr. President, “Woooooyoooo, ar dae enjoy Wi Nyu hit from mi Kenema Broda Dem.” It’s time to listen. For once, let the voices of Sierra Leoneans echo in your mind, even if it disrupts your peace. I know the winds of change are blowing strong from the east, and they are unstoppable. Have you heard the voices of the youth from the Eastern Region? They’re tired and restless, counting down the days until their votes can push your government out of office. As they say, “five years is not forever.” And, Mr. President, I can’t help but predict that you might not finish your term as president if you keep ignoring this wave.
You know, I was taken aback when I first heard the powerful line: “Any Salone Man Wae Survive Na Salone Na Super Man O.” How true that rings! It’s no longer hyperbole to say surviving in Sierra Leone requires superhuman resilience. Every day, prices soar. Every day, families choose between a meal or rent, or between medicine and school fees. The sentiment “Wi Taya Wit Dis Greedy System” resonates with every market woman, every bike rider, and every young person walking the streets with empty pockets and even emptier hopes. How do you sleep at night knowing the extent of discontent seething in your people’s hearts, Mr. President? Truly, how do you do it?
You know, I’ll ask you to think back to your travels to Ohio, Des Moines, where you are attending a conference on the Food Prize Foundation. Mr. President, our people ask: What food do we have to showcase? When hunger and malnutrition gnaw at our nation’s roots and many in rural communities can’t afford a simple meal, how can we stand at an international podium as if we have food to spare? It’s a painful mockery, isn’t it? And as we speak, you are already moving on to Russia after just hopping from the U.K., Lebanon, and Sri Lanka. You went from Nigeria to Burkina Faso in May, from the U.S. to Samoa in August and September, and then again this October. What does all this travel achieve for the suffering people of Sierra Leone, Mr. President?
I’ll say it plainly: “Nor to Dis Wi Bin Vote Fo.” The frustration is palpable; even your most fervent supporters are reconsidering, scratching their heads, wondering where that promised “New Direction” has led them. Not a single soul is “glad” as your administration struggles to bring genuine change or relief to the ordinary Sierra Leonean. Instead, they are met with rising prices, rising poverty, and rising despair. Sierra Leone is slipping further into economic chaos, and it’s time for you to come back home and address it, not tour the world as if all is well.
I must admit, we are fed up. The new direction, Mr. President, has indeed “Mek Wi sad.” I wish I could speak these words directly, with the unfiltered sentiments of our Eastern brothers and sisters, because they understand the depths of our pain. But the message remains the same, clear as day. Mr. President, we are in crisis. And if you fail to see it, our Parliament should step in and demand an answer, if not impeachment, to curb this cycle of neglect. Sierra Leone cannot afford a president who treats the nation as a distant afterthought while flying from one foreign event to another. “Walahi, Yu Don Comot Na Han.”
Freedom is coming, Mr. President, whether you accept it or not. Our people are no longer waiting for empty promises or vague hopes; they are demanding change—real change. The youth, the Eastern Region, the silent majority across the land—they are all fed up with the greed they see embedded in the system. You assured us that “Salone go bete” and that the new direction would be our path to progress. But now, all we see is a detour into even worse hardship.
The youth have had enough, and the discontent is spreading across the Eastern Region, down to the quietest corners of our country. The people have nothing left to lose, and they are no longer afraid to speak their minds. We can see it in the words of mothers like Mama Ami Kallon, in the whispers and murmurs growing louder in homes, markets, and streets. You should know, Mr. President, that this is not a violent uprising but a movement of truth and honesty. Our people are not waiting to topple the government by force; they are just waiting to be heard. But I worry: how long will it be before the frustration explodes?
I fear for our nation when young people are no longer dreaming of better opportunities but merely wishing to survive. When I hear phrases like “Us Kyn Yikiteke Dis Ba,” I know that the spirit of resilience is dwindling. Sierra Leoneans have grown resilient over the years, no doubt, but their patience is wearing thin. They are tired of slogans tired of speeches and exhausted by broken promises. And now, with every announcement of yet another international trip, you are adding fuel to a fire that’s smoldering beneath the surface.
Our people are intelligent, Mr. President. They understand the situation, and they feel betrayed. The same people who stood in the rain and sun to vote for you are the ones now carrying the weight of your administration’s failures. They didn’t vote for a government that would abandon them while they grappled with soaring prices and empty stomachs. They didn’t vote for endless foreign trips and pompous conferences. They voted for leadership that would prioritize their needs, and all they got was a new direction leading nowhere.
So, Mr. President, let me ask you this: When will you return? When will you finally see the urgency that we see every day? Because the clock is ticking. The quiet revolution is already underway, and it’s not led by guns or violence but by sheer determination. People are talking, and they’re doing so with the conviction that change is necessary. You can try to turn a deaf ear, but this message is not going away. The voices will only grow louder, demanding that you either take accountability or step aside.
“Yu Promise Wi Sae Salone Go Bete,” you said. But as the youth rally from the East to the West, as voices rise from the North to the South, they’re saying, “Eastend Region to God Wi nor Gladi.” No one is glad, Mr. President. Your promises are becoming hollow, and your indifference is feeding a disillusionment that no propaganda or speech can mend. The Sierra Leonean people are sad, and the sadness is morphing into an unstoppable wave for change.
We have seen this before with leaders who thought their position was secure until it wasn’t. History has a way of repeating itself, especially when the powerful fail to heed the warnings from the people. So, consider this a plea, Mr. President. Not from me alone, but from every Sierra Leonean who is tired of the empty promises, from every youth who feels abandoned, from every mother who cannot feed her children, from every father who cannot provide. Listen before it’s too late.
A true leader doesn’t hide behind foreign trips or empty platitudes. A true leader confronts the hardships of their people head-on. But as it stands, Mr. President, you are choosing the opposite. And the Sierra Leonean people, as resilient as they may be, are reaching the end of their patience.
So here’s the reality, Mr. President: If you continue down this path of neglect and indifference, you might not be there when the next election rolls around. Because one way or another, change is coming. The people are tired, and they are ready to take back what is theirs, peacefully, persistently, and with the unwavering resolve of a nation that deserves better.
May you find the wisdom to see the truth before it’s too late. The Sierra Leonean people have spoken, Mr. President. Listen to them or face the winds of change. “Ayyy President Bio Yu Get Mind O” and “Yu Dae Go Fo Wan Month Yu nor Care But Anything.”.
