By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
The All People’s Congress today resembles a crowded kitchen where everyone insists on cooking yet no one agrees on the recipe, the timing, or even who should be in charge of the fire. Since the party’s defeat in the 2023 elections, what should have been a period of sober reflection and structured reorganisation has instead descended into confusion, rivalry, and political self harm. Rather than rebuilding trust with the electorate and presenting a clear alternative vision for Sierra Leone, the APC has chosen noise over clarity and spectacle over strategy.
The immediate period after the 2023 elections exposed a party unprepared for loss. Instead of mounting a disciplined legal and institutional challenge, the APC launched what it termed an Electoral Justice Scheme. It was announced loudly and delivered emotionally, yet it failed to move even a single step beyond rhetoric. Supporters were promised accountability, citizens were repeatedly invoked, and dramatic language filled the airwaves. In practical terms, nothing materialised. No decisive legal breakthrough occurred, no institutional redress followed, and no clear roadmap was presented. What remained was frustration among supporters who were led to believe action was taking place when it was not.
This culture of illusion reached its most embarrassing height when partisan commentators and corner correspondents circulated claims that President Julius Maada Bio was about to hand over power to the former APC presidential candidate Samura Kamara. The story spread rapidly, ignited emotions, and collapsed just as quickly. Nothing happened. No constitutional process was triggered, no power exchange occurred, and no accountability followed for the misinformation. What this episode revealed was a party increasingly detached from political reality and dangerously comfortable with feeding its base stories it wanted to hear rather than truths it needed to confront.
As the APC now approaches a national delegates conference slated for August, unresolved tensions have crystallised into open conflict. Instead of unity, the party is plagued by visible rivalries and public hostility among its leading figures. Disagreements that should have been resolved internally are now playing out in the open, eroding confidence in the party’s ability to manage itself, let alone govern a nation.
One of the clearest illustrations of this breakdown is the hostility displayed by Sylvia Blyden toward Yvonne Aki-Sawyerr, the elected Mayor of Freetown. Political disagreement is normal, but the intensity and personal nature of this rivalry has crossed into destructive territory. A simple public acknowledgement by the First Lady Fatima Bio was enough to provoke an explosive reaction. That response said less about the First Lady and more about the internal fragility of the APC. When personal resentment overrides political judgment, the party suffers and the public notices.
At the same time, there is a deliberate effort to keep former Vice President Sam Sumana out of the contest for the APC flag bearer position. Rather than encouraging open competition based on ideas, experience, and national appeal, certain elements within the party appear determined to close ranks out of fear. A party that fears internal competition cannot credibly promise inclusive governance to the nation.
The situation has been further inflamed by the activities of the Institute of Governance Reform. Its involvement in political surveys has deepened anxiety and suspicion within the APC. Instead of calming tensions or providing neutral analysis, these surveys have been interpreted as partisan signals that elevate some interests while marginalising others. In a party already riddled with distrust, the circulation of such surveys has intensified restlessness among aspirants and supporters alike. What should have been data for reflection has become fuel for factional conflict, further crowding an already congested political kitchen.
Perhaps the most damaging feature of the current APC moment is the uncontrolled expansion of flag bearer aspirants. Names emerge daily, ranging from experienced politicians to individuals whose public records raise serious questions. The appearance of figures such as Alhassan Gbessay Kanu at the doorstep of the APC, presenting themselves as potential presidents, has left many ordinary Sierra Leoneans disillusioned. Leadership is not an open market stall. It requires credibility, discipline, and a demonstrated capacity to govern.
For citizens who genuinely desire better governance, economic stability, and national cohesion, this spectacle feels insulting. Sierra Leone faces deep challenges that demand thoughtful leadership. Youth unemployment, rising living costs, institutional weakness, and regional instability cannot be addressed by a party consumed by internal theatrics. When political opportunists and serious contenders occupy the same crowded space without standards, the message sent to the public is that seriousness has been abandoned.
While the APC is absorbed in its internal battles, it is failing to recognise a critical political reality. The ruling Sierra Leone People’s Party is itself experiencing fragmentation and internal strain. This should have presented the APC with an opportunity to position itself as a disciplined and credible alternative. Instead, the opposition is too distracted by its own conflicts to take advantage of the moment.
It is at this point that the words of late President Siaka Stevens carry renewed relevance. He once warned his party that a political organisation incapable of disciplining itself has no moral authority to discipline a nation. Stevens understood that internal order was not optional but foundational. What the APC is experiencing today is not healthy ideological diversity but structural breakdown. Disagreement has turned into indiscipline, ambition has replaced restraint, and loyalty to self now outweighs loyalty to party doctrine.
The current disorder did not begin after the 2023 elections. It is the delayed outcome of choices made during and after the leadership of former President Ernest Bai Koroma. While Koroma enjoyed electoral success and public goodwill in his early years, he gradually weakened the internal foundations of the APC. Party systems were undermined, internal accountability was diluted, and senior figures who once served as stabilising anchors were pushed aside. Loyalty increasingly became more valuable than competence, and succession planning was left unresolved, allowing unchecked ambition to thrive.
Koroma’s most damaging legacy lies in his failure to fully disengage from party control after leaving office. Rather than allowing renewal, he remained a silent centre of influence. Multiple factions emerged, each claiming proximity to him, each invoking his name to justify internal battles. That is how the APC kitchen became overcrowded, with many cooks, no head chef, and no agreed recipe.
The uncontrolled surge of flag bearer aspirants today is not accidental. It is the direct result of a party taught that structure is optional and that access to power comes through personal alignment rather than service. Even the much publicised Electoral Justice Scheme reflected this decay. It was loud, emotional, and directionless because the APC no longer operates as a disciplined political machine. It now functions as a loose assembly of competing ambitions shaped largely during the Koroma era.
If Siaka Stevens’ APC was built on fear of disorder, Ernest Bai Koroma’s APC drifted into crisis through tolerance of it. One ruled too tightly, the other too loosely. Between these two extremes lies the present confusion of a party that struggles to restrain itself, to select leadership responsibly, and to speak with one voice.
What the APC faces today is not misfortune, electoral conspiracy, or external sabotage. It is the outcome of years of avoided reform and unaccountable leadership. Until that reality is confronted honestly, no delegates conference, no flag bearer, and no slogan will rescue the party from itself.
