Letters and Envelopes: The Struggle for Good Governance In Sierra Leone

Sierra Leone’s President, Julius Maada Bio

 

By Alpha Amadu Jalloh,

There is something hauntingly symbolic about unopened letters and empty envelopes. They represent promises unfulfilled, messages never received, and intentions drowned in layers of dust. In Sierra Leone today, that symbolism has become our reality. Our nation has become a warehouse of letters and envelopes. Policies are crafted but never implemented. Speeches are written but never believed. Ministries are created but never functional. Hopes are ignited but never fulfilled.

 

Bureaucracy in Sierra Leone has collapsed under the weight of its own pretense. The public service, once considered the backbone of the nation’s administrative structure, now resembles a lifeless relic. Ministries are occupied by political decorators who value popularity over productivity. They style themselves as celebrities and influencers instead of stewards of public trust. Governance has become more of a theater than a function.

 

The civil service, which should be the engine of the state, is clogged with incompetence and political cronyism. Merit has long left the room. Recruitment is often based not on skill or dedication but on tribalism, nepotism, and the alignment of one’s loyalty to either the ruling Sierra Leone People’s Party or the opposition All People’s Congress. These two major political parties, instead of serving as ideological guardians of development, have become twin evils shackling the progress of this nation. Their rivalry is not about ideas or governance. It is about control, contracts, and conquest.

 

Ministries are abundant, yet impact is scarce. Visit any public office in Sierra Leone and you will witness a tragic comedy of lost files, missing clerks, delayed decisions, and endless signatures. For every task, there is a form to be filled, stamped, and signed. If you want it done within a human lifespan, bribes are your best bet. These government offices serve more as extensions of individual egos than they do as centers of public administration. The walls are lined with portraits of ministers and commissioners, while the people’s documents lie in unmarked drawers, forgotten.

 

The dysfunction does not end with paperwork. Most government officials are invisible to those they serve. The few who dare to work diligently are marked as threats to the status quo. Integrity is treated as subversion. Patriotism is interpreted as rebellion. Excellence is painted as sabotage. To do your job with honesty in Sierra Leone is to be labeled an underminer. In this system, survival depends not on doing what is right but on doing what will please those above, regardless of its consequence to the nation.

 

Our security forces, meant to protect the people, have become enforcers of repression. The judiciary, supposed to be the last refuge for justice, has become a chessboard where verdicts depend on the players, not the laws. From police stations to courtrooms, the average citizen has no place. Justice is for the rich, the connected, and the powerful. The rest of us are merely names on documents or complainants who never return. Our cases are buried. Our voices muted.

 

Meanwhile, ministers are more likely to be found at fancy hotels, political rallies, or launching programs for foreign donors than in their offices. They are more concerned about media presence than field inspections. They boast about foreign trips more than they care about domestic issues. They prefer to launch five-year plans they will never implement than to fix five basic issues the people face. The truth is, most of them are performers in expensive suits. They are masters of slogans and architects of failed promises.

 

Our Parliament is no better. It has become a noisy room of self-interest and staged loyalty. Oversight has turned into a rubber stamp. The few voices of dissent are either ignored, threatened, or bribed into silence. The Members of Parliament are supposed to represent constituencies, but most represent their pockets and political patrons. Parliamentary debates are now riddled with rehearsed praise-singing or angry shouting matches, devoid of strategic thinking or legislative depth.

 

Our traditional authorities, once revered as custodians of community and culture, have become middlemen for politicians. Chiefs now wait in line for envelopes and land deals. They endorse whichever party will offer the best thank you package and care less about the crumbling schools or broken bridges in their domains. They are no longer protectors of the people’s dignity but brokers of short-term gain.

 

Even worse is the role played by some international actors. Development partners, diplomatic missions, and NGOs. While there are genuine helpers among them, many have become complicit in this broken system. They host workshops on accountability in air-conditioned hotels but ignore corruption in plain sight. They publish reports full of buzzwords like resilience, inclusivity, and capacity building, yet allow tyrants and thieves to walk freely, shake hands, and smile at cameras. They partner with governments for the sake of stability, not integrity. For many, it is better to work with a predictable dictator than to support uncertain democratic dissent.

 

In the end, we the ordinary people are left with the envelopes. Empty shells that once promised change. Letters that contain nothing but bureaucratic gibberish. Speeches written in fine English but lived in harsh Krio. We are told of national development plans but we cannot see them. We hear about education reforms yet our children sit on cold floors with no books. We are promised free healthcare but our mothers die in delivery rooms lacking gloves and gauze.

 

The streets of Freetown and the towns of Kabala, Kenema, Makeni, and Pujehun are overflowing with young people who feel forgotten. Their only interaction with the state is through a police checkpoint or a dysfunctional hospital. For many, the goal is not to build Sierra Leone but to escape it. And who can blame them? The nation has become a prison of expectations. Those with dreams are suffocated by systems built to frustrate. Those with courage are crushed by powers built to control.

 

We can no longer continue like this. We must stop romanticizing these failing institutions. The presidency is not a crown. It is a service. Parliament is not a stage. It is a chamber of the people’s voice. Ministries are not status symbols. They are service centers. Police officers are not uniformed thugs. They are public servants. Chiefs are not errand boys. They are community guardians. And international partners are not saviors. They must be allies, not apologists.

 

This country cannot breathe under the weight of bureaucracy, bad governance, and broken trust. We need a radical shift in mindset. We need to reward honesty, not loyalty. We need to recognize competence, not connections. We need to value public service, not public spectacle.

 

We are tired of receiving letters filled with lies. We are exhausted from opening envelopes only to find disappointment. Sierra Leone deserves better than this theatre of excuses. We are not props. We are not statistics. We are a nation with dreams, talents, and the right to a dignified life.

 

It is time to clean the dust off our dreams. To replace staged governance with sincere leadership. To move from envelope politics to open truth. To demand more than token appointments and surface-level reforms. We must demand functionality. We must demand justice. We must demand a government that works for its people, not against them.

 

Until then, we remain the recipients of empty letters. We are living in the shadow of false promises, flipping through the pages of policies that were never meant to be implemented. But we are not powerless. We can reject this performance. We can rewrite the script. And we must.

 

Because this country is not a discarded envelope. It is a living letter. And it is time the world read it aloud.

 

About The Author

 

Alpha Amadu Jalloh is a Sierra Leonean writer, Human Rights Advocate, and Africa Renaissance Leadership Award Laureate 2025.