Ask Anyone from my generation who once read The Tablet newspaper, followed the writings of Nkrumah, Amie Cesaire, Senghor, Samir Amin, Fannon, Olu Gordon, and Paul Kamra, or watched the plays of Kolosa Kargbo, Amadu Maddy, and Dele Charlie. Ask those who danced to the beats of Afro National, Muyei, and Sabanoh 75. They would narrate an epic tale of national aspirations—dreams that could have transformed our dystopia into a utopia.
The story of Sierra Leone often begins with the dawn of independence, a promising exposition that quickly entangles itself in the complications of coups, counter-coups, and civil war. It moves toward a cathartic purging before what should be a climax, yet fragments into a subplot instead of reaching a resolution. In this subplot, the narrator emerges as the protagonist, and the entire nation becomes the antagonist—except in moments of self-reflection. This self-exonerating narrative pits the occasional success of individual Sierra Leoneans against the backdrop of collective national failure.
Humans are paradoxical beings, where the best and worst coexist within the same psyche–our better angels side by side with our worst demons. As E.O. Wilson argued in his exploration of genetic predisposition and social behavior, one set of traits favours individual success within a group, while another fosters competition between groups. Sierra Leone has excelled at producing exceptional individuals but has floundered in achieving collective progress. Each time the national narrative shifts toward individual achievement, it signals an implicit acceptance of national failure. We delude ourselves into thinking that patching the holes on our side of the boat will keep us safe, even as the entire vessel is sinking.
At its core, human struggle has always existed on both individual and collective levels. History has shown that groups of altruistic individuals working toward a common good will always triumph over those driven by selfish interests. Yet, our tendency to prioritize insular factions over the broader society weakens the very foundation of national unity.
Many from my generation now focus solely on securing the future of their immediate families, building homes, and making investments with the hope that these will guarantee safety and stability. Yet, these personal fortresses will prove futile if the nation continues its downward trajectory. A nation’s collapse swallows even its most well-insulated citizens. If we do not shift our focus from individual survival to national revival, we risk turning our once-hopeful epic into a tragedy beyond our reckoning.
So take up your pens, raise your voices, and take action—before the angel of death seals your fate and that of a nation in decay. If left to fester, this land will not even be a worthy grave for you. Get up and do your best before they say rest in peace when they know you won’t because a plume of kush smoke awaits your bones.
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