In Sierra Leone, a troubling culture has taken root, one in which every national failure is swiftly and conveniently blamed on the President. It is as though the Head of State is expected to be omnipresent, omnipotent, and omniscient, simultaneously managing every streetlight, drainage system, hospital ward, classroom, and government office. While it is true that leadership must be held accountable, it is also true that as a people, we have weaponized blame and used it to shield ourselves from the mirror of personal and institutional responsibility.

Consider the electricity sector. Cables and transformers meant to power communities are stolen by the very citizens they are supposed to serve. Yet, when there is a blackout, fingers point to the State House. Solar panels installed for public lighting mysteriously vanish within days. Equipment for community electrification ends up in private homes, and when entire neighborhoods are thrown into darkness, we chant in unison: “Blame the President.”

Our roads tell a similar story. Government funds are disbursed for road maintenance and construction, yet some contractors abandon projects halfway. Others deliver poor-quality work, using substandard materials while pocketing the lion’s share of the budget. When potholes cause fatal accidents and entire communities are cut off during the rainy season, we scream, “This government is not working!” forgetting that somewhere along the chain, someone appointed to serve failed to deliver, and often, not because of political pressure, but because of sheer greed and disregard for human life.

Hospitals, our supposed havens of healing, have become tragic reminders of systemic decay. Nurses demand bribes before attending to patients. Those who can’t afford to pay are left to suffer or die in silence. Medical doctors come and go as they please, prioritizing private practice over public duty. Fuel meant for hospital generators is sold on the black market, and essential drugs never make it to the shelves. Yet when the health system collapses, and a mother loses her child due to negligence, she turns on her radio and, through tears, says, “This is all the President’s fault.”

In schools across the country, corruption is institutionalized. Teachers and school authorities demand ‘kola’ before offering services that should be free. Grades are traded for money or favors. Children are taught by demotivated teachers, many of whom have lost their moral compass. Public examination malpractice is rampant. And when our national pass rate hits rock bottom, society nods in agreement: “The President has failed us.”

Waste management is another painful example. Citizens deliberately dump garbage into gutters, canals, and waterways, often at night. When the rains come and floods wreak havoc, displacing families and claiming lives, no one questions the recklessness. Instead, the chant echoes once more: “The government is doing nothing!”

What is worse, even projects with enormous potential for national development are sabotaged from within. Fertilizers meant for farmers are sold to the highest bidder. Agricultural tools are hoarded or distributed based on political loyalty. Government vehicles are abused, maintenance budgets diverted, and in many offices, work does not start until after 10 a.m. and ends long before closing time. Yet when food prices soar or agricultural output drops, we return to our default scapegoat, the President.

Leadership matters, and any president must indeed take full responsibility for the overall direction of a nation. But we must also confront a difficult truth: as Sierra Leoneans, we are often our own worst enemies. Our deep-rooted apathy, lack of patriotism, dishonesty, and indiscipline have become roadblocks to the progress we so desperately crave.

Public property is no longer seen as our property. It is vandalized, misused, and stolen with no shame. Public service has become a means for personal enrichment rather than a platform for national transformation. Accountability is a foreign word. We destroy, loot, extort, cheat, and lie, and then raise our voices in indignation, demanding change from above while ignoring the rot within ourselves.

Until we begin to fix our attitude, our systems, and our values from the bottom up, no president, no matter how visionary, will be able to transform this nation. Sierra Leone’s greatest challenge is not just political leadership; it is the culture of blame, the erosion of integrity, and the collective unwillingness to take responsibility.

Let us not wait for another president to fix what each of us is breaking. If we want real change, we must begin with the most difficult revolution of all: the one within ourselves. Enough with the excuses. Enough with the blame. The mirror is pointing at us.

About the Author:
Alhaji Imam Alusine Mansaray is a public commentator and an advocate for agricultural transformation, youth empowerment, and responsible governance.