Why would I be so concerned, worried, and confused? A Sierra Leonean, I was born, but our politicians, our chiefs, our leaders, and even our religious moral guarantors have taught me nothing but to see myself as a Fula, a Mende, a Limba, a Loko, a Temne, a Susu, a Koranko, a Yalunka, a Gizzi, a Krio or a Sherbro. They did not stop there, but they also told me that I came from the North, the Southeast, or some other region, not from Sierra Leone itself. How did I find myself in such confusion?

I am hungry, sick, uneducated, dirty, and tired of this argument. Sierra Leone, the only home I call home, has placed me in a never-ending discourse that not even the nation itself can fully explain to me. Whenever I find myself in other worlds, in lands others call home, I cherish the opportunities they provide. But here in Sierra Leone, I am subjected to an identity crisis and an argument that never ceases.

My parents toiled to make me what I am, but their hard work was in vain because the provisions to reward their sacrifices were absent. My teachers taught me so much, yet there is nothing to show for it. The education I received has been rendered obsolete, as it is far removed from the speed of the world. My leaders have made no effort to bring me to par with the current realities of life.

I am confused. Why us? Why are we the ones who must always lose? Are we cursed? Are we really Sierra Leoneans? Are we not second-class citizens in our own land? We are like zombies, having everything yet having nothing to show for it. We have no functional education system, no healthcare, and no infrastructure that can make our lives better. What do we have? Arguments.

Arguments fill our days and nights. Arguments about tribalism. Arguments about politics. Arguments about corruption. Arguments about development. Every discussion in Sierra Leone is an argument. Everything we do as Sierra Leoneans revolves around arguments. We are living in the era of the Sierra Leonean argument.

For decades, our politicians have thrived on the fragmentation of our identity. They have systematically divided us by region, tribe, and political allegiance. The very people entrusted with uniting us have, instead, ensured that we remain divided. Their rhetoric stokes the flames of mistrust and hatred among us. Elections are not won by ideas or policies but by tribal affiliations and regional biases.

In the Sierra Leonean argument, the North is pitted against the South, the Mende against the Temne, the elite against the masses. The contest is not about who can build roads, provide water, improve schools, or create jobs. Instead, it is about which tribe will rule next, which party will dominate, and which region will claim supremacy.

The result? A stagnated nation where progress is sacrificed on the altar of political bickering. Policies that should bring development are abandoned because they were introduced by the previous administration. Governments operate not as institutions of service but as vehicles of personal enrichment and tribal empowerment.

Beyond politics, the Sierra Leonean argument extends to the social fabric of our nation. Our education system is a battleground of inefficiency. Schools are underfunded, teachers are underpaid, and students are taught outdated curricula that do not prepare them for the realities of the modern world.

Healthcare is a privilege, not a right. The poor die from preventable diseases while the rich fly abroad for treatment. Hospitals lack basic equipment, medicine is scarce, and doctors struggle with inadequate resources. Our leaders, rather than fixing these problems, continue to seek medical care in foreign lands, leaving ordinary citizens to suffer.

Meanwhile, the youth, the supposed future of our nation, are left without hope. They graduate into joblessness, trapped in an economy that offers them nothing but frustration. Many turn to crime, drugs, or illegal migration in a desperate attempt to escape a country that has failed them. Yet, rather than address these issues, our leaders engage in endless arguments over who is to blame.

The Sierra Leonean argument thrives on a lack of accountability. Corruption is the order of the day. Funds meant for development vanish into private accounts. Government officials build mansions while the people they serve struggle to afford a meal. The Anti-Corruption Commission, meant to fight this menace, often appears selective in its prosecutions, targeting the powerless while shielding the powerful.

We argue about corruption, but we do nothing about it. We argue about justice, yet the legal system remains skewed in favor of those with money and influence. We argue about democracy, yet elections are marred by fraud, intimidation, and violence.

How long will we continue to argue while our nation crumbles? How long will we allow politicians to manipulate us into fighting their battles while they enrich themselves at our expense? The Sierra Leonean argument must come to an end.

We must reclaim our identity, not as tribes or regions, but as Sierra Leoneans. Our future depends on unity, not division. We must demand better from our leaders and hold them accountable for their failures.

Education must be reformed to meet the needs of the modern world. Healthcare must be accessible to all, not just the privileged few. Our economy must be transformed to provide opportunities for our youth. Most importantly, corruption must no longer be tolerated.

The change we seek will not come from those in power, it must come from us, the people. We must reject the politics of division and embrace the politics of progress. We must replace arguments with action, tribalism with nationalism, and hopelessness with determination.

We are Sierra Leoneans. We are not just an argument. It is time we start acting like it.

By Alpha Amadu Jalloh

Author: Monopoly of Happiness; Unveiling Sierra Leone's Social Imbalance.