You Can’t Step on the Same Dog Shit Twice But Sierra Leoneans Did

By Alpha Amadu Jalloh

There is an old saying that you can’t step on the same dog shit twice. It means once you have made a mistake, you learn from it. You avoid it. You grow. But Sierra Leoneans, in an extraordinary twist of fate and foolishness, not only stepped on it again, we danced in it. We rolled in it. We normalized it. And now, we wear the stench like perfume.

This country, rich in potential, soaked in blood and baptized in false hopes, has become a tragic case of repeated betrayal, willful ignorance and collective self-destruction. The politicians are not our only problem. We are the problem. From the judiciary to the police, from so-called intellectuals to the market women who sell their vote for rice and T-shirts, the rot is national. Sierra Leone is not cursed. It is simply addicted to failure and allergic to common sense.

Let us start with the politicians. They lie to us. They steal from us. They kill our dreams. And we still vote for them. Not once. Not twice. Every single election cycle, we line up under the same sun and reward the same group of criminals with five more years of our lives. Whether red or green, they come with big speeches and empty promises, only to build mansions in Dubai while our children study under mango trees. Yet we call them Pa, His Excellency, First Lady and even Messiah. We celebrate their birthdays while our hospitals run out of paracetamol. We are not victims anymore. We are enablers.

And then comes the judiciary. The broken spinal cord of justice. How many cases have gone unresolved simply because the judge was waiting for a brown envelope? How many poor men rot in prison while the rich walk free with their bloodstained suits? The judiciary in Sierra Leone is a disgrace, a mockery of law and justice. Court cases are not about facts. They are about connections. Lawyers have become interpreters of lies. Judges are brokers of impunity. And the law is a game played only by those who can afford the rulebook.

Now let us not forget the economists and so-called financial experts. How can we receive billions in aid, grants and loans yet still have children eating once a day? We have had enough IMF programs to feed the entire West African sub-region, but all we see is debt and devaluation. What kind of economic sense justifies importing everything from toothpicks to onions? And how can a country with vast mineral resources still be begging for rice? Our economists write policies to impress foreign donors while local industries die. They talk inflation on radio and eat lobster in Lebanese restaurants while the rest of the country survives on gari and groundnut soup.

Our security apparatus. Dear God. Where do we start? The police are no longer law enforcers. They are party enforcers. They beat citizens for protesting bad governance but escort politicians who loot public funds. They collect bribes with the confidence of CEOs and harass the poor with joy. The military, once a proud institution, has now become an arm of political intimidation. They invade polling stations, suppress dissent and protect only the powerful. The security services have forgotten their oath and become tools of oppression.

And now to the educated elites. The so-called enlightened class. These are the people with degrees but no integrity. They attend international conferences, speak Queen’s English on panels and write glowing speeches for corrupt ministers. They are everywhere, in government, NGOs and academia. They know the truth but refuse to speak it. Instead of challenging the system, they benefit from it. Instead of leading the people, they confuse them. They are intellectual prostitutes selling their knowledge to the highest bidder, betraying their country for scholarships and consultancy contracts.

But let us be honest. Sierra Leoneans in general have failed themselves. We do not hold leaders accountable. We defend politicians based on tribe, region and rice handouts. We insult activists who speak truth to power and praise looters who throw parties. We fear change because we are used to suffering. We believe progress is a foreign concept. We laugh at those who work hard and glorify those who scam the system. We say na God e will when a child dies of malaria in a broken clinic. We forgive too easily. We forget too quickly.

Even our religious leaders, once beacons of hope, are now pawns in political games. Some churches are campaign grounds. Some mosques have become money-laundering fronts. Instead of preaching salvation, they preach silence. Instead of truth, they preach tolerance for corruption. Instead of uplifting the poor, they bless the powerful. Morality has been buried. Righteousness is a relic. The holy books now serve the highest bidder.

Our media? Compromised. Journalists trade their pens for brown envelopes. Newspapers become propaganda machines. Radio stations echo government lies. The few who dare to speak out are silenced with threats or lured with contracts. The watchdogs have become lapdogs.

Our youth? Frustrated and forgotten. Used during elections and dumped after. Addicted to kush and entertainment. Distracted by TikTok and tribal politics. Hungry but hopeful. But until they rise with purpose and not violence, they too will become part of the same cycle.

You cannot step on the same dog shit twice. But we did. Over and over again. We smeared it on our institutions. We sprayed perfume over it and called it development. But it still stinks.

We need to clean up. Not just the streets. Not just the offices. But our minds, our values and our choices. Until then, the stench will follow us. From the State House to the slums.

And history will ask us one day. Not why we suffered. But why we enjoyed stepping in the same mess again and again.

Alpha Amadu Jalloh

Author of “Monopoly of Happiness: Unveiling Sierra Leone’s Social Imbalance”

Recipient of the Africa Renaissance Leadership Award 2025.