By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
Mr. President, good day to you from the one person who, by all means, strives to be your most honest and straightforward friend. This is Part 90 of our ongoing conversation, and it gives me no pleasure to say the issues on my mind today are grave, yet again. I raise them not to deride or belittle but to implore you to understand the sentiments and struggles of ordinary Sierra Leoneans. Mr. President, you might recall one of our earlier discussions concerning our national security apparatus. I lamented its numerous failings and expressed concern about the mismatch between its grand claims, like being “the best in Africa, second only to South Africa,” and the reality on the ground. Regrettably, those concerns have come to fruition in a way more humiliating and bewildering than any of us could have anticipated.
Today, we find ourselves in the glare of international headlines from Reuters, BBC, CNN, Al Jazeera, MSNBC, and FOX News, and not for reasons that make us proud. Instead, the world is talking about how a man listed as Europe’s most wanted, a certain “Jos Leijdekkers,” managed not only to enter our country but also to establish a relationship that appears uncomfortably close to your own family. Let that sink in, Mr. President: a high-profile fugitive, allegedly sought all over Europe, found it so easy to waltz into Sierra Leone and build connections at the highest levels of power. We have to ask ourselves: where was our illustrious national security apparatus during all this?
The images circulating on social media show this individual in close proximity to your daughter, Mr. President. Close enough that he appears to be a trusted confidant rather than a random onlooker. Reports suggest that the two have been spotted together more than once, including in the hallowed precincts of Tihun, your home area, where access is anything but casual. After all, traveling to Tihun is not as simple as catching a taxi or hailing a cab. It requires a boat, crossing a river, and often coordinating logistics with local or regional officials. The question every Sierra Leonean is asking is: “How did this man, a supposed kingpin of criminal networks in Europe, get so close to your family without setting off any alarm bells in our intelligence system?”?
Of course, we have heard the official line from your Ministry of Information and Civic Education. They say that “the President meets all sorts of people” and that sometimes individuals show up wanting snapshots with national figures. Fair enough, Mr. President. We all understand the public demands placed on a country’s leader. But these photographs and reported engagements extend beyond the fleeting handshake or quick selfie at a busy rally. They suggest someone who was given the courtesy of direct or nearly direct access to you and your family in your personal domain. Moreover, the question I pose, one every citizen begs you to answer, is this: Why was our system unaware of his presence, his background, and the potential threat he poses?
Mr. President, before you dismiss these concerns as “political sensationalism” or “unfounded rumors,” please note that the international press is now covering the story as a legitimate scandal. It has become a national embarrassment. We, the citizens, feel anger, shock, and betrayal. When our security apparatus touts itself as the best or among the best in Africa, we expect vigilance and competence. Now, instead, we find ourselves ridiculed on the global stage. If we cannot catch or even detect a high-value criminal who is freely mingling with the upper echelons of state power, what does that say about our country’s capacity to protect its people?
This incident underscores an even broader crisis: the welfare of Sierra Leoneans. We see our national resources spread thin. We see security forces that, in truth, appear more devoted to your personal protection and the safety of the ruling class rather than to the day-to-day security of ordinary citizens. Each time someone raises a question about the infiltration of criminals or corrupt networks into our borders, the official response is deflection or denial. Mr. President, if our intelligence services are so adept, how can they explain this fiasco?
In failing to apprehend or even flag. Mr. Leijdekkers, upon his arrival or his frequent outings with your family, our security system has lost the shred of credibility it had. This is not just about a wanted man slipping in. It is about the care and due diligence that every government must exercise in protecting its territory and its people. If the security forces can overlook or ignore such a high-profile individual, how can the average citizen trust that their neighborhoods and streets are being safeguarded from more routine criminal elements?
Mr. President, this scandal is not limited to bureaucratic inefficiencies. It strikes at the heart of your own household. People are asking (and we do so with respect, but firmly): How did your daughter come into contact with this man? Did she even know his identity and alleged criminal background? If she did not, then it implies that the very individuals tasked with protecting you and your family failed spectacularly at the most basic duty of vetting. If she did know, then the question becomes an even more troubling one of judgment and complicity.
Photographs swirling on social media show not just a casual snapshot. They convey a certain level of familiarity, an ambiance of relaxed, personal relationship. While one might discount a random photo taken at a public gathering, it is far harder to dismiss pictures that indicate repeated interactions, especially in Tihun, a place where you have absolute control over who visits and how they get there. We have to remember that Tihun, being your hometown, is not an open public thoroughfare. Anyone making the journey would be known to local authorities and, presumably, to your personal staff.
Mr. President, if that were not enough to stoke public anger, we have the recent memory of a private concert in December 2024 featuring Tiwa Savage and Ayra Starr, two prominent, internationally recognized musicians who don’t come cheap. We know that these artists, hailing from neighboring Nigeria, command substantial performance fees, not to mention the travel, accommodation, and production costs necessary for a private event. Mr. President, ordinary citizens are not naive. They see your daughter and other family members enjoying lavish parties while they themselves struggle daily with basics like electricity, clean water, and affordable food.
This begs the question: Who financed such an elaborate spectacle? If it was personal funds, the public wonders how such enormous resources are available for private luxuries when, as you know, many citizens live below the poverty line. If, heaven forbid, state funds were misdirected to cover these entertainments, then we are dealing with a breach of public trust, one that verges on the criminal. The question resonates in neighborhoods across the country, from Freetown to Bo, from Makeni to Kenema: How is there enough money for private concerts but insufficient funds for health, education, and better roads?
Mr. President, I have walked through the crowded markets, heard the disgruntled conversations at street corners, and listened to the hushed frustration of civil servants who are told to tighten belts while the political elite loosen theirs without restraint. There is a widespread perception that your administration is out of touch, that it caters to its own interests, and that the rest of us must be content with meager scraps. These perceptions have only intensified in the wake of the Jos Leijdekkers scandal. People see it as a glaring, neon sign pointing to deeper systemic rot.
For a nation still grappling with post-conflict reconstruction, we cannot afford such negligence. Our credibility in the eyes of international partners, donors, investors, and humanitarian organizations hinges on our ability to maintain law and order. The presence of an internationally wanted fugitive socializing with our First Family is the very antithesis of credible governance. It is the kind of story that makes investors wary and donors skeptical. Moreover, it erodes the fragile trust of our own citizens who wonder if their futures are being sold to the highest bidder or the most politically connected criminal.
When you assumed office, Mr. President, you promised to be a beacon of progress. You pledged reforms that would transform Sierra Leone into a secure and prosperous land, free from the corruption and impunity that plagued us in the past. This scandal, however, calls into question the sincerity of those pledges. An accountable leader would not simply shift blame to people considered to be against you or your family or the opposition. An accountable leader would take responsibility for any breach of protocol involving his own family. Where, then, is the unequivocal statement of accountability, the firm commitment to discover the truth, or the call for an impartial investigation into the Jos Leijdekkers saga?
We do not want vague reassurances that “all is under control.” We want concrete steps: immediate inquiries, transparent investigations, and, if necessary, the dismissal and prosecution of officials who allowed such a glaring security lapse. If your daughter was misled or used as a pawn, we want to see acknowledgment of that and a tightening of the procedures that safeguard the First Family. Remember, Mr. President, your leadership is not just about making policy speeches or cutting ribbons at inaugurations. True leadership tests come when the system fails, and you must show the moral courage to rectify it.
Mr. President, the resilience of our people has always been our greatest national asset. Yet resilience should not be mistaken for tolerance of injustice. We can endure hardships together if there is a sense of shared sacrifice. But how can Sierra Leoneans believe in shared sacrifice when they see private concerts with international superstars, “Tiwa Savage and Arya Starr” and see photographs of your daughter with one of the world’s most wanted criminals?
Mr. President, it is painful to watch Sierra Leone slip into global headlines for all the wrong reasons again. For the sake of our country’s future, I implore you to consider the urgency of reforms. These reforms include overhauling the security sector to restore competency and integrity, enforcing strict codes of conduct for all officials and their family members, and ensuring that any breach of security or abuse of state resources is met with swift and decisive action. We cannot keep ignoring or glossing over controversies in the hope that they fade with the next news cycle. The world is watching, and more importantly, your people are watching.
Mr. President, I am telling this not out of malice, but out of a deep and unwavering concern for the future of Sierra Leone. Despite our repeated discussions on governance and reform, this situation represents a nadir that neither you nor any of us can afford to overlook. There must be accountability. You must offer a clear, unequivocal explanation of how Europe’s most wanted criminal found himself in your familial circle. You must address the concerns about the private concert that has angered countless Sierra Leoneans struggling to earn a living. And you must lead a transformation of our security apparatus that will ensure our nation’s safety is paramount above politics, above personal interests, and above any illusions of grandeur.
Mr. President, we the people deserve clarity, Mr. President. We deserve honesty, competence, and care. Right now, our collective reputation is at stake. The question is: Will you meet this crisis head-on and take the bold steps necessary to restore faith in your leadership? Or will we continue along this perilous path of evasion, denial, and mistrust?
Once again, I remain your friend, the one who tells you the truth even when it is difficult to hear. May we never tire of seeking a better path for Sierra Leone. We await your response with hope, however fragile, that this time, just maybe, you will heed the call.
