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,
Mr. President, like always, your tenure has not been one short of drama, no, not the kind that inspires hope or confidence, but the kind drenched in negativity, laced with scandal, marred by mismanagement, and haunted by an alarming silence from you when your voice was most needed. Mr. President, from the lingering embarrassment of international fugitives like Jos Leijdekkers waltzing through our territory to the nonsensical episodes that flutter like lost pigeons from one country to another under your watch, your government has become a parody of the very promises it once swore to uphold.
And now, Mr. President, here we are, at yet another tragic crossroads, where your habitual passivity has invited disgrace to the national conscience. The Guinean military, a so-called “friendly neighbour,” has now annexed a portion of our territory. Yes, annexed. The long-occupied village of Yenga in the eastern Kailahun District, once a testament to Sierra Leonean sovereignty and a critical historical outpost, has now fallen completely under Guinean control. And what do we get from your administration? Lip service. Silence. Excuses. Empty communiqués. Mr. President, “Yu nor go blow smol?”
The people of Sierra Leone deserve more than diplomatic dithering. They deserve a leader who rises when our land is at stake, not one who rushes for photo ops while our sovereignty is being torn apart piece by piece.
Yenga is not just another village. It is a symbol of Sierra Leone’s postwar rebirth, a strategic region with cultural, historical, and economic relevance. Its occupation during the civil war was agreed upon temporarily to aid our efforts in quelling the rebel menace. That was 2001. The war ended in 2002. It’s 2025, Mr. President. The Guinean troops are still there, and now they have shifted from occupation to colonisation, planting their flag and instituting their control. The people of Yenga speak in whispers, forced to trade in Guinean francs, watch their children taught under a foreign curriculum, and abide by the laws of a country they never chose.
And yet, Mr. President, for years your administration responded with nothing more than vague press statements and diplomatic hot air. No urgency. No protest at the United Nations. No meaningful regional mobilization. Instead, you have watched a boy scout, as I call him, President Mamady Doumbouya, outmaneuver your government with the kind of strategic discipline that shames even the most seasoned military tacticians.
Let’s talk about this “General” you so proudly wear on your chest. Mr. President, you are the only known “battle-tested brigadier” who fled the very war that earned you that rank. You floated to that title with the same ease that Mamady Doumbouya parachuted into power. But at least he backs his title with action, decisiveness, and the projection of sovereignty, even if not always guided by democratic principles.
In contrast, your own credentials remain confined to ceremonial uniforms and rehearsed speeches that flatter international partners while leaving your people betrayed. It is a shame that a former soldier, one who claims to have sacrificed for his country, could watch idly while its territory is being swallowed whole. Sierra Leoneans may disagree on politics, but we are united in our frustration, our betrayal, and our call for you to finally do something that benefits this nation, not yourself.
This is not a drill, Mr. President. This Yenga issue is a direct threat to our national sovereignty. If we cannot protect our land, then what are we as a nation? If we cannot stand for our people in Yenga, how can you claim to stand for anyone?
Mr. President, the time for silence is over. The time for action is now.
The people of Sierra Leone are calling on you to:
1. Summon Parliament for an emergency national debate on Yenga.
2. Engage the African Union and ECOWAS not with bureaucratic papers but with evidence and a clear demand for multilateral pressure on Guinea.
3. Inform the United Nations and demand an independent investigative mission to Yenga.
4. Dispatch a civilian-led peace delegation to Yenga to document the realities on the ground.
5. Mobilize Sierra Leone’s legal apparatus to begin formal proceedings against Guinea for violation of international borders.
But most of all, Mr. President, go to Yenga. Show your face. Look your people in the eye. Let them know that their president is not just a ghost in State House, but a flesh-and-blood patriot willing to risk political capital for his people.
We’ve seen enough of the staged press briefings, the international conferences, and the foreign tours with no tangible benefit to our people. Sierra Leone is not a theater for political performance. We are a sovereign state facing serious internal and external threats, and you have spent too much time curating your image abroad while things fall apart at home.
This is not a plea, Mr. President. This is a national alarm. And in case you’re tempted to deflect, let me remind you: we remember. We remember your refusal to speak on issues when drug lords controlled our streets and Kush ravaged our youth. We remember your silence during the rape of our economy through lopsided mining deals. We remember the deaths in prison cells, the intimidation of journalists, the manipulation of the judiciary, and the silence in the face of injustice.
But this, this is worse. This is a violation of our very land, our very identity. And if you fail to respond accordingly, history will not forgive you.
I do not say these words out of hatred, Mr. President. I say them out of obligation. As a son of this land, as a citizen whose allegiance lies not with party but with people, I owe it to those in Yenga and beyond to speak what they are too afraid to say.
We are not Guinea’s backyard. We are not a playground for regional dominance. And we are certainly not a country that should be led by a man who watches sovereignty slip away while polishing medals earned in a war he abandoned.
So I ask again, Mr. President: Yu nor go blow smol? Because if you won’t, the people will. And when they do, no flag, no title, and no fancy military ribbon will shield you from their verdict.
The time is now. The world is watching. And Sierra Leone is waiting.
