On Sierra Leone’s 60th Independence: Musings of a Young Sierra Leonean
On the 27th of April 2021, The Republic of Sierra Leone commemorates 60 years of Independence from Great Britain. In the past, Independence Day has been celebrated with some sort of fanfare. Let me set the scene. Growing up in Sierra Leone, it was one of those holidays I’d looked forward to. For one, I get to take a day-off from school. Everyone loves a day-off. Leading up to the big day was the famous lantern parade. In the capital city, Freetownians will line the streets to watch various youth and cultural groups on parade, displaying creative work that gave off comic artistry vibes. The latest or classic Salone songs blasted off from speakers on moving vehicles. Freetown’s youth towing behind, heads swinging, waists swaying, feet shuffling, and whistles sounding to the beat. The lantern displays and their rowdy supporters kick-off from the West-End and the East-End of Freetown. All roads will lead to the famous Cotton Tree, at the heart of the city; a stone’s throw from the Law Court, the Office of the President, and the National Museum. At the later (very later) part of the night, the President of the Republic will stand at the steps of the Law Court to speak to the crowd and judge the best lantern display. On Independence Day itself, many Freetownians would spend the day at home with family. Many more will head to jam-packed beaches along Freetown’s peninsula, celebrating the taste of freedom in the sun. These were truly glorious sights to witness, I am filled with a profound longing.
Longing. As a young Sierra Leonean, a yearning desire tugs at my heart whilst reflecting on the past sixty years. I yearn for the past, a once glorious past of Sierra Leone’s history, one that did not last long post-independence. That part of history where the city I grew up in was a beacon of educational excellence in the sub-region; wielding a mandate of educating most of former British West Africa’s civil servants. An era where young Sierra Leoneans need not have skeltered to other countries in search of quality learning opportunities. I long for that part of history when things worked. The ferry service from Freetown to Lungi was efficiently running on schedule; the train from Bo could bring with it produce, making it easier for the market women at Dove Cot to unload and restock their wares. I long for that part of history when we were an appeal to the world. One need not fear a visit to our paradise. Tourists flocked from other parts of the globe to witness the beauty that is Sierra Leone, signaling it as the preferred destination in West Africa. Even Bounty (yes, the famed chocolate) once came to shoot a commercial at our much loved Tokeh beach. I also long for that part of our history when Sierra Leonean music was a force to be reckoned with, the likes of our very own Afro National band crisscrossing the borders of Africa and Europe performing highlife music. The glory days gave Sierra Leone respect in faraway lands, and may have even conjured envy from nearby nations. But what is the point of me desiring a long gone era, when it does not exactly mirror the realities of Sierra Leone today?
Reality. Most of us are quick to point out that Sierra Leone has regressed since it gained Independence in 1961. We ask: what have we to celebrate for our 60 years as an independent nation? Well, it is important for us to note that the effects of years of colonialism did not do much for Sierra Leone. Whilst Freetown flourished, there wasn’t much to write home about for most of rural Sierra Leone (formerly known as the protectorate). This was the primary reason for protectorate elites coming together to form a political party of national unity — to chart the way forward for our independent Sierra Leone. However, anyone with bare knowledge of Sierra Leone’s history, would know that things did not go exactly as planned for this ‘unity party’. Even the very day of Sierra Leone’s independence was marred with controversy. All of this set the scene for what was to come. Many Sierra Leoneans would tell you that the ship began to sink with the ill-timed death of our lauded Independence leader — Sir Milton Margai. Things did not immediately go to smitterings when Sir Milton died, but years of several missteps eventually led us to some of the lowest points in our history. All of which have culminated in our current reality. In many ways, Sierra Leone today is a shadow of its former past. You cannot take the train to Bo anymore. When flying out of Sierra Leone, you are most likely to avoid the unreliable ferries connecting Freetown to Lungi Airport, if you can afford the $40 water taxis. Lest your flight take to the skies, whilst you’re stuck in the middle of the Sierra Leone river.
Once upon a time, the Freetown peninsula was the go-to place for Europeans, notably French celebrities and politicians. Most tourists no longer have Sierra Leone as their preferred destination. Ghana, The Gambia or Senegal seem to be the more attractive destinations in West Africa. Following independence, the reality of the majority of Sierra Leoneans was grim. The British colonial administration did not always serve our interests, and they left us with an imperfect system. Some of the realities of that time persist to this day, others have manifested by means of our own devising. Today, healthcare is tragically poor — our maternal and infant mortality rate is one of the highest globally; quality education is lacking — with unequal access to learning; corruption is rife in every facet of our society; politics is divisive along ethno-regional lines; and some of the basic infrastructure needed to spur socio-economic growth is amiss. More worryingly, the scars of conflict (lowest point in our history) still linger. It is no secret that many of our compatriots are yet to recover from the effects of our brutal civil war, in addition to several other traumatic encounters we’ve dealt with as a nation. For the longest time, I did not pay attention to this, until I read ‘The Memory of Love’ by British-Sierra Leonean writer — Aminatta Forna. It was an epiphany for me. Amidst the myriad issues we navigate daily, have we taken time to heal from our past missteps and the atrocities we barely escaped? We tend to term ourselves resilient, perhaps we are more traumatised. Little wonder why experiencing life on the ground or keeping up to speed with news from the diaspora, leaves way too many Sierra Leoneans frustrated.
Frustrating. Sierra Leone can be painfully frustrating. Oftentimes, when I engage in discourse regarding Sierra Leonean affairs, I end up with a literal headache. It is that bad. For every passing day, there would be something to hit a nerve. The system works not in favour of the masses, not even for those who vote religiously along ethno-regional lines. Most Sierra Leoneans are left to wallow in misery. If our leaders need reminding, this was the same recipe for the disaster that was our civil war. But it is not only how Sierra Leoneans are led that conjures frustration. It is also how we have somewhat chosen to live. In more ways than one, we enable the system that ran our country aground. What else explains our choosing loyalty to political parties or ethnic groups, over the nation? There are countless things that unite us as a people, but somehow we lack nationhood. How can a nation develop, when its people are not united behind a singular vision? Older Sierra Leoneans talk fondly about their growing up in Sierra Leone, of how things were much better for them. They share nostalgic feels. But my generation wonders how they could have messed up our country under their watch. They were born into a peaceful Sierra Leone, a nation still drunk on the freedom juice, raring to go. The average young Sierra Leonean today, was born during the civil war, or immediately after it. By the end of our civil war, we were the poorest country in the world. So we grew up in a country that had to start from scratch, with weakened institutions, broken infrastructure, and fragile security. Amidst the chaos we were born into, and the struggles of growing up in a rehabilitating country, some of us still choose to look to the future with great optimism.
The future. In my longing for our once-glorious past, and in my frustration about the sobering events, I still believe that we can build a better future for Sierra Leone. It is much easier for us to dwell on the negatives, to look at our current state and despair. However, it is not all doom and gloom in Sierra Leone. There has in fact been some marked progress, especially since the end of our civil war. Perhaps we aren’t moving as fast as we ought to, but we are moving forward still. Sometimes progress is slow to achieve, and it really could be worse. We may have once been a champion for excellence in education, but it was elitist in nature, with access made difficult in rural areas. We may have had the first secondary school for girls in the sub-region, but for many years after The Annie Walsh school was founded, girls were still kept out of school. However, in Sierra Leone today, more children in rural areas have access to education, and much more girls are going to school. Significant gains have been made towards school enrollment at all levels. The Government of Sierra Leone has rolled out a free primary and basic education program, improving access. Since the end of the civil war, we have also successfully held four democratic elections. There may have been sporadic incidence of violence in such periods, but we have managed to oversee peaceful transfers of power. Having emerged from fragility, we have consistently been a highly-ranked African country in the global peace index within the past decade. However small, these wins are worth celebrating, remember we started from scratch. Think for a while, of how your life was like in 2002 or 2007, think of how life was like for Sierra Leoneans collectively, and compare it to today. Surely, you’ve been able to identify several areas of progress in your personal and our collective state.
Personal state. I am often confused about what I feel for my country, because the emotions are a mix of all the aforementioned. I get the occasional longing for our rich history and cultural heritage, and often reminisce about the community that raised me and the memories of my Sierra Leonean youth. Then there is the frustration over past failures and what seems to be an unbearable status quo. Yet still there is the hope for a brighter future, a firm optimism that we will regain glory, one that will be shared by all Sierra Leoneans. Every so often when I drift into this frustration over the grim realities of Sierra Leone today, I check myself. I remind myself that ours is a young nation. Sixty years may not be sixty days, but in building a nation, we definitely are still nascent. Yes, other countries may have made significant turnarounds in a decade, or two, or less, but their story is not our story. However, if they could do it, so can we. It is therefore my hope that the people of Sierra Leone are led to unite behind a singular vision for progress. Well who can better effect this change, than the ones who make up the majority of our nation — the young Sierra Leonean.
The young Sierra Leonean. I believe in the young Sierra Leonean. I believe in our potential to effect change. I am often wary that we could get sucked up into the “system” we so vehemently detest. Some of our comrades have already fallen, if truth be told. But it is the small but mighty actions of young people at home, and in the diaspora, that renew my confidence in things changing under our watch. When my dearest Charmaine expresses her love for writing, and her desire to take authentic Sierra Leonean stories to the world, it renews my confidence. Here is someone who could make Sierra Leone famous in the literary world. When Mohamed Tunis expresses his passion for aeronautics, also carefully explaining to me what key operations the Sierra Leonean aviation industry is lacking, it renews my confidence. Here is someone who could help relaunch a national carrier of excellence. When Abu Yillah and ‘the Young Sierra Leonean’ curate events aimed at connecting young Britons to Sierra Leone, it renews my confidence. Here is someone who could one day help the Government of Sierra Leone tap into its diaspora’s huge potential. When Mario Mackay expresses his interests in technology development and digital law, it renews my confidence. Here is someone who would play a valuable role in unleashing Sierra Leone’s tech generation, the ones who would calibrate technology for our nation’s development. When the Junior Doctors of Sierra Leone speak truth to power and demand that their conditions of service are met, my confidence is renewed. They are a heroic bunch already on the verge of changing the status quo for our people.
People. It is because of the patriotic Sierra Leoneans of the past that I choose to celebrate Sierra Leone on this day. It is because of those brilliant Sierra Leoneans that left invaluable footprints and made a name for themselves in faraway lands, that I choose to celebrate Sierra Leone on this day.
I celebrate, because of the army of young Sierra Leoneans at home and in the diaspora, eager to put Sierra Leone on the map. It is for the average Sierra Leonean, that has survived several traumatic episodes, yet still raring to go, that I choose to celebrate on this day. I love Sierra Leone, in all its imperfections. I adore Sierra Leoneans, in spite of our imperfections. I celebrate our freedom, with the hope that true unity will soon be found, and that true justice will prevail for all.
In fine, re-echoing the words of Martin Michael on #SaloneTwitter — Happy 60th Independence Day to the patriots, non-patriots, and all those with hidden agendas.