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, we continue this conversation not because it is pleasant but because it is necessary. Not because I enjoy calling you to account but because someone must do it in the absence of true institutional checks and balances. Mr. President, can we talk again? The people are watching, and they are tired of the silence.
Mr. President, let us talk about truth. Truth has become rare in our country. It hides behind the veil of political correctness and convenience. It is edited out of press briefings. It is beaten out of journalists. It is denied in Parliament and distorted by spokespersons. But the truth has a way of finding its way back to the surface no matter how deep you bury it.
Mr. President, the truth is that your government is not leading this country. It is managing chaos. It is reacting instead of planning. It is distracting instead of informing. And while public attention is pulled in all directions, your administration continues to drift with no clear vision, no grounded principles, and no moral compass.
Mr. President, let us revisit something that has become an uncomfortable reality. You have failed to offer a national address regarding the growing insecurity on our borders. The Guinean military still occupies Yenga. Reports are still circulating that parts of Kambia and Karene have been infiltrated or quietly absorbed by foreign elements. Yet you have not said a word. No official condemnation. No diplomatic response. No visit to the affected communities.
Mr. President, when a nation’s land is taken, its dignity is stripped. A government that cannot protect its territory is not sovereign. A leader who does not speak for his people in times of invasion is not worthy of their trust. And a silence like yours can no longer be explained away as strategy. It is weakness. It is irresponsibility. It is betrayal.
Mr. President, instead of galvanizing national action, instead of rallying our troops and people, you chose to deliver rice to the displaced. You sent sacks of food instead of soldiers. Mr. President, that is not leadership. That is surrender wrapped in logistics.
Mr. President, the people are not foolish. They see the pattern. They see how every crisis is either politicized, ignored, or used as a smokescreen for something else. The census was announced. Then postponed. Then pushed to December 2026. The people were told it was for planning. Yet nothing was explained. No clarity. Just silence.
Mr. President, your refusal to address national questions has become part of your political playbook. You wait. You disappear. You ignore. And when the heat rises, you fly out. You meet donors. You pose for photos. You attend global forums and say all the right things. But back home, the people are choking on unanswered questions and unmet needs.
Mr. President, your governance style has evolved into secrecy. The constitutional review committee you promised remains a mystery. Who is on it? What are they working on? Are they revising key provisions? Are they consulting the people? Mr. President, constitutional reform is not a private affair. It belongs to the people. It must be open. It must be accessible.
Mr. President, many now believe this silence is calculated. That behind the curtains something is being prepared without the nation’s input or oversight. That changes are being made not in the public interest but to protect interests. Mr. President, you must dispel these fears by being transparent, not by hiding behind your silence.
Mr. President, while the nation remains in suspense, while institutions remain silent, while citizens whisper in fear, there is also another crisis brewing. A health crisis that does not only affect the people but you.
Mr. President, allow me to speak to you directly and personally. Are you healthy? Are you caring for yourself? Are you strong enough to carry the burdens of state? Mr. President, this is not a mocking question. It is a serious concern. Your physical appearance has changed. You look tired. You look burdened. You look unwell.
Mr. President, Sierra Leoneans are whispering. They are wondering if you are still fit to lead. They are afraid to say it publicly, but they are talking in homes, offices, and marketplaces. Mr. President, are you regularly examined by a physician? Are you getting enough sleep? Are you exercising?
Mr. President, you owe it to the nation to be well. You owe it to the people to lead with energy and clarity. If your health is failing, the nation is at risk. If you are not in peak condition, decisions will suffer. If you collapse, we all stumble. Mr. President, no one expects you to be superhuman, but they expect you to be responsible.
Mr. President, self-care is not vanity. It is duty. Eat better. Exercise more. Drink water. Rest. This is not mockery. This is a concern. Many fear that if something happens to you, the nation is not prepared. Your succession plan is unclear. Your governance structure is centered around you alone. Mr. President, that is dangerous.
Mr. President, it is also dangerous that every institution now waits for your approval before doing anything. Ministers cannot speak unless you direct them. Civil servants cannot move unless you nod. Parliamentarians cannot act unless they seek clearance. Mr. President, this is not governance. It is paralysis.
Mr. President, the people do not want a system where only one man thinks for all. They want institutions that function. They want ministries that deliver. They want leaders who serve, not echo.
Mr. President, the clock is ticking. You are running out of time to course-correct. You are losing the moral capital you once had. The longer you delay real reform, the more irreversible the damage becomes. The longer you remain silent, the louder the streets will speak. The longer you play with the people’s patience, the more explosive their reaction will be.
Mr. President, Sierra Leone does not belong to you. It belongs to all of us. You are not the owner. You are the caretaker. You are not the ruler. You are the representative.
Mr. President, the question now is not whether you will leave office. The question is how you will leave. With dignity or with disgrace. With honour or under pressure. With peace or in turmoil.
Mr. President, can we talk before history answers that question for you?
