Get Well Soon, Rest in Pieces!

 

 

By Alpha Amadu Jalloh

 

In Sierra Leone, when someone falls ill, we instinctively say “Get well soon.” But more often than not, what we mean, though we never say it, is “Rest in pieces.” Not peace. Pieces. Because to fall sick in Sierra Leone today is to confront a broken health system that offers little more than slow abandonment. It is to place one’s life in the hands of a system that cannot save it. Not due to lack of will from its people, but because those entrusted to protect life have long abandoned their duty.

 

Our hospitals are death traps. Our clinics are under-resourced shadows of what they should be. And our leaders, the very ones entrusted with public trust, have ensured through decades of corruption, bad governance, and misplaced priorities that the phrase “Get well” is a cruel illusion for the poor.

 

Since independence in 1961, successive governments from Milton Margai to Julius Maada Bio have left our health sector in shambles. Not one administration and not one political party can boast of having truly prioritized the health of the Sierra Leonean people. Instead, ministers, presidents, MPs, and elites fly abroad for the mildest of headaches while the rest of us queue for paracetamol at ghostlike pharmacies or bleed to death on metal stretchers in dark, mosquito-infested hospital wards.

 

Look around. In 2023, a mother in Koinadugu died during childbirth. Not due to a complicated condition, but because the hospital had no oxygen. In Pujehun, a child died from malaria because the health post had no test kits. In Moyamba, a young man with a treatable chest infection died simply because there was no doctor available for three weeks. These are not isolated incidents. They are national norms.

 

This is what “Get well” really means in Sierra Leone. An empty blessing from one hopeless citizen to another while the powerful prepare their private jets or diplomatic passports for overseas treatment.

 

Let us call names. Let us stop pretending.

 

Minkailu Mansaray, a senior member of the APC party, flew to India for medical care. This is the same man whose party held power for eleven years. Eleven years during which billions of Leones were allocated to health. But when it came time to trust the system they built, he chose India. Why? Because even the builders of this system know it was never meant for them. Only for us. The expendables.

 

But it is not just APC. The current SLPP government under President Julius Maada Bio is no different. Every year, health sector allocations are announced with fanfare. In 2023, the budget for health stood at over 1.1 trillion Leones and the government proudly touted its commitments to Free Health Care for pregnant women and children. Yet pregnant women still lie on bare floors. Children still die from diarrhea. And let us not forget the 40 million dollars health support project from the World Bank or the 75 million dollars from the Global Fund to fight malaria and TB. Where has the impact gone?

 

Hospitals are collapsing. Many government facilities still operate without running water. Basic sanitation is a luxury. Patients are often told to buy their own gloves, bandages, and even blood. In places like Tonkolili or Bonthe, families must transport their sick loved ones on motorbikes for hours due to the absence of ambulances.

 

No oversight. No shame.

 

And while they let our hospitals rot, these same leaders boast of “Free Quality Education.” A noble concept, no doubt. But even here, the hypocrisy is glaring. Ask where their children go. Not to government schools. Not to the very “quality” schools they want us to believe in. Their children are in international schools, in elite private academies, or overseas. Because the leaders of Sierra Leone never trust the systems they create. The services they design are only good enough for your child, not theirs.

 

This is what “Get well” means. Survive, if you can. And when you don’t, rest in pieces. Not with dignity. Not with medical care. Just a painful, lonely death in a system that sees you as a statistic, not a citizen.

 

Let us not absolve the private sector either. Clinics that should be saving lives are focused on profit. Private pharmacies often import expired drugs. Many so-called health NGOs run donor-funded ghost projects with little real impact. Development partners must also take their share of the blame. How many millions have been poured into the health sector without adequate accountability? Where are the audits? Where are the sanctions?

 

And still, mothers die. Still, babies perish. Still, our rural populations live with no access to modern care.

 

So where do we go from here?

 

We need an overhaul. Not reforms. Not consultations. A full overhaul. We need to break the system and rebuild it. This time for the people, not for the elite. Our budget must prioritize health, not bloated ministries or overseas retreats. We must fund rural clinics, train more doctors, pay nurses on time, and create an emergency service system accessible to all.

 

Let the President and Ministers get treated at Connaught. Let Parliamentarians deliver their babies at PCMH. Let their children go to Ahmadiyya, not to Canada. Until our leaders learn to live under the systems they design, they will never care enough to fix them.

 

But more importantly, we the people must rise. Not in violence. In unity. In outrage. In organization. In strategic resistance. This rot will not fix itself. Politicians will not do it out of goodwill. They only respond to pressure. That pressure must come from us.

 

To every citizen who has lost a family member due to medical negligence. To every father who watched his wife die because of a lack of a blood bag. To every child who buried a parent because there was no doctor on duty. Your pain is not isolated. It is national.

 

To every nurse forced to work without gloves. To every medical student learning from outdated materials. To every villager praying to survive the night because there is no clinic nearby. This fight is yours too.

 

We must stop whispering “Get well soon” when we know the system offers no wellness. We must stop burying the truth with the bodies.

 

Say it with courage. Get well? No. Rest in pieces. Until we change the country.

 

About the author:

Alpha Amadu Jalloh is the Author of Monopoly of Happiness: Unveiling Sierra Leone’s Social Imbalance and a Recipient of the Africa Renaissance Leadership Award 2025