There is perhaps no greater trust that a nation can repose in one of its citizens than the office of its Chief Executive—whether called President, Prime Minister or by any other constitutional title. It is the nearest earthly office to omnipotence, though mercifully without the burden of omniscience. For a brief season in history, one human being becomes the custodian of the hopes, fears, quarrels, ambitions and destiny of millions. That is not merely a political privilege; it is a sacred stewardship.
The paradox of power is that many who attain it spend their tenure pursuing the very things that became theirs the moment they took the oath of office—authority, recognition, applause and the approval of political spectators whose loyalties often change more quickly than football supporters revise their predictions.
Power itself is never the destination. It is merely the instrument by which history tests character.
Politics is inevitable, just as facts are indispensable. Yet whenever politics collides with facts, wisdom requires that facts should prevail. Unfortunately, in much of our world, perception usually reaches the destination long before truth has packed its suitcase. Rumour travels by private jet; facts generally arrive by public transport.
Providence, however, equips every sovereign with one advantage denied to ordinary citizens: the machinery of the State. Properly organised intelligence, professional institutions and independent counsel exist to distinguish fact from fiction, evidence from conspiracy and reality from political theatre. Leadership therefore possesses no luxury of excuses. The first duty of the State is to know the truth before acting upon it.
Leadership is not merely the administration of government. It is the architecture of national values.
The true statesman does more than discover a path; he builds the road upon which generations may safely travel. He does more than heal wounds; he restores confidence. He gives a people permission to hope again. The moral quality of leadership inevitably becomes the moral climate of the nation. Divided leadership seldom produces united societies.
Africa possesses one of the most fascinating political psychologies in the world. We blame our earthly leaders for every drought, blackout, pothole and mosquito bite, yet reserve every success for divine intervention. When things go wrong, it is the President’s fault. When they go well, “God has done it.”
Without intending it, our political theology has converted presidents into convenient lightning conductors while Heaven receives all the compliments.
No wise leader should therefore expect complete fairness while occupying office. Citizens are rarely objective contemporaries. Headlines often pass judgement long before history assembles the evidence.
Fortunately, there exists a higher tribunal.
Conscience convenes its court after retirement. It admits no technical objections, entertains no political lobbying and grants no indefinite adjournments. There every former leader becomes both witness and accused, conducts his own cross-examination and lives thereafter with the only verdict that truly matters—the quiet peace of fulfilment or the recurring unrest of regret.
That is why the safest political investment has never been propaganda, patronage or personality cults.
It is national unity.
No leader has ever diminished his legacy by building bridges instead of barricades. Every mile added to the highway of national cohesion shortens the journey towards prosperity. Every seed of division planted today matures into tomorrow’s forest fire.
Political psychology offers another enduring lesson.
Those nearest to power are often the least grateful for it.
Political aides, relatives, beneficiaries and loyalists possess an astonishing capacity to remember the single favour withheld while forgetting the hundred already received. Entitlement is a peculiar disease: the more it is fed, the healthier it becomes. Political patronage resembles seawater. The more one drinks, the thirstier one becomes.
Almost every leader is surrounded by individuals who view power less as a public trust than as a profitable enterprise. Some seek influence; others seek contracts. Some seek justice; many seek revenge. Others merely recruit the authority of the State to prosecute private quarrels under the respectable banner of public policy.
Escaping that web requires unusual discernment.
The hymns of the inner court may prove more dangerous than the chants of one’s declared opponents. Sycophants rarely require an invitation; they are permanently resident within the palace. Genuine wisdom, by contrast, often lives outside its gates. Wise men seldom gather unless summoned by the sovereign; flatterers require no summons.
The ordinary citizen possesses a longer political memory than politicians often imagine. He complains today, compares tomorrow and judges eventually. Many leaders receive their greatest applause only after leaving office, when their successors unknowingly become their finest campaign managers.
These reflections lead naturally to Sierra Leone.
President Julius Maada Bio has before him an opportunity available to few African leaders: to devote the remainder of his presidency to becoming not merely a successful politician but a remembered statesman.
His recent disposition towards reconciliation with former President Ernest Bai Koroma deserves encouragement rather than suspicion. Nations fractured by prolonged political antagonism require internal moral guarantors as much as they require constitutional institutions. Reconciliation between former rivals does not weaken democracy; properly managed, it deepens it.
Former President Koroma possesses influence over constituencies that no government decree can command. Used wisely, that influence can help convert political competition into national cooperation. It can distribute responsibility for Sierra Leone’s future across the country’s principal political traditions rather than concentrating every burden upon the incumbent alone.
Leadership becomes lighter when national responsibility becomes shared.
There is another reality that experience repeatedly confirms. Every President eventually discovers that the crowds which gather to applaud in daylight are often matched by others who quietly prepare the cliff from which yesterday’s hero may be pushed tomorrow. Popularity is transient. National reconciliation is enduring.
Sierra Leone understands, perhaps better than most nations, both the terrible price of conflict and the immeasurable value of peace. It escaped the precipice not through accident nor miracle alone but through deliberate acts of courage, reconciliation and statesmanship. Such an achievement deserves not merely preservation but continual elevation.
I recently observed President Bio preside over the Summit of the Authority of Heads of State and Government of ECOWAS. The respect accorded to him by fellow leaders and international partners was unmistakable. The remarkable attendance and generous tributes reflected confidence in his regional stewardship and his growing continental stature.
Yet history has a peculiar habit.
International recognition enhances reputation; domestic reconciliation secures legacy.
The greater monument therefore still awaits construction—not in Addis Ababa, Abuja or New York, but in Bo, Makeni, Kenema, Port Loko, Kono and Freetown.
Sierra Leone’s economy is simply too small to finance permanent political warfare. It cannot indefinitely sustain tribal trenches, regional barricades or perpetual partisan mobilisation. The nation has too much ground to recover and too little time to squander. If development could be purchased merely with hours in a day, Sierra Leone would require thirty instead of twenty-four.
One of the country’s greatest untapped assets remains its global diaspora. Properly united by confidence rather than divided by suspicion, Sierra Leoneans abroad possess the knowledge, capital, professional networks and patriotic commitment capable of accelerating national transformation. They may never replicate the emotional foundations of Zionism, but they can certainly become the architects of a new Sierra Leone worthy of their affection and investment.
President Bio still possesses sufficient time to devote the remainder of his tenure to healing divisions, strengthening institutions, restoring confidence and accelerating development. Those accomplishments would long outlive every campaign slogan and every electoral victory.
Permit me one personal reflection.
I still remember the Julius Maada Bio who once drove me through the streets of Freetown, enthusiastically describing his dreams for Sierra Leone. That friend possessed an infectious optimism that required no presidential convoy to magnify it. The Presidency, magnificent though it is, has an unfortunate tendency to build walls around otherwise approachable men.
My hope is that history will remember not merely the President who occupied State House but the statesman who left Sierra Leone more united than he found it.
That is the highest distinction available to any sovereign.
Power eventually expires.
Character does not.
Office passes to another.
Legacy remains.
And when the final court of conscience convenes, no President ever regrets having built too many bridges.
He regrets only the ones he never built.
God bless the Republic of Sierra Leone.
Sam Kargbo, a Senior Advocate of Nigeria, writes form Abuja.
© Abuja, 26 July 2026.
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