Salone News

To the Priceless Politicians of My Land

16 November 2005 at 05:38 | 665 views

By Saidu Kaye Sesay, London, United Kingdom.

The other night I was seated in front of my computer trying to ignore the irritating blasts of fireworks, as British folks celebrated the heroism of another legend. As hard as I tried to mentally shut off these sounds, the more they re-echoed in the chilly November night.

I am getting gutted now, accentuated by the fact that I was not being attracted to the internet. Damn it! I was getting up to my feet, when suddenly COCORIOKO.COM offered me something interesting. There was The Pool’s Chernor Ojuku Sesay reporting about the ailing condition of an ex- firebrand of a politician, Hon. Osman Kamara. Bed-bound? Soliciting attention? I could not believe what I was reading...

I poured myself a glass of Lambrini and toasted to the spirit of truth as upheld by a few good men of Sierra Leone...Who else, but journalists. Now, this is getting serious. Like a laser beam, I allowed my mind to capture images of yesteryears. There was Osman Kamara, immaculately dressed, flawlessly offering solutions to the numerous problems of Sierra Leone. His thunderous voice was enough to command, not beg, attention. And the irony that stood out distinctly in Ojuku’s reportage was Osman summoning journalists- that he helped persecute (remember the Shekito and cars for MPs saga?),to beg President Kabbah to help him. Well, Osman was in a position where he could have begged his parliamentary colleagues not to send Shekito to prison, but did he? How bitter- sweet would it be for one bad turn to deserve another?.


I am not an oracle, but written records would prove that I had predicted a sour ending to Osman’s political career. How could Osman have ever made the mistake of mortgaging the future of the Sorbeh party to arguably the most unreliable alliance in the history of Sierra Leone’s politics? Maybe Osman did not realise that Tejan Kabbah has little time for pampered Sierra Leone politicians.

Ruled by greed and self centredness, Osman threw his weight behind a party whose oral promises are as unreliable as its legally documented obligatons.So, when the whirlwind of the 2002 elections had calmed, Osman’s parliamentary gains read zero, his party phased out and his once elegant and charismatic figure reduced to a mere walking corpse haunting the corridors of power in search of political largesse.And indeed, he had hopeless hope though, in his trusted friend- Kabbah the King Maker. Why not? If Kabbah could make Sama Banya, a political spent force, Minister of the all sensitive Ministry of Foreign Affairs,in the face of stiff opposition even from within his own party, why not Osman, the Wilberforce wheeler-dealer who had some semblance of political life? Poor Osman. Baited, he appeared before the Parliamenatary Committee on Appointments filled with hopes of occupying one of the ever ready compensatory board of directorship.Osman could not believe that his world was crumbling, as he suffered a bloody nose. He looked up to Kabbah for help, but behold the latter was looking the other way. Osman raged and ranted, but no one was listening.


Osman retreated, but for a while. When he reappeared, it was to address a press conference in which he revealed the invasion of his house by thieves who stole his generator, bla bla bla. Whipping up sympathy, Osman made a cross section of the press to believe that the robbery was politically motivated.And soon, the banner headlines were screaming. I could not put up with this hoodwinking any more. I had lost patience with this false prophet who had misled thousands of hopeful youths under the umbrella of Sorbeh, from the road of the promised land to the wilderness. I felt someone neeeded to tell him to shut up. This motivated me to write that ’damn you’ article entitled ’Osman, the big tree falls’. Borrowing lines from a reggae artist, I reminded Osman thus ’When a tree falls/ There shall it lie untill judgement take it course’.

Presented to The Pool Newspaper for publication, the Managing Editor Chernor Ojuku Sesay who is appparently becoming an important source in the infamous transition of Osman’s life, asked me whether I was sure I wanted to publish such an article at a time he referred to Osman as a wounded lion. I simply answered, ’Publish and be damned’. So it was written and published and so it has been done. Till date I am waiting for the bed- bound former honourable’s(?) reaction.

The moral lesson here, is that, the likes of Osman Kamara who follow the gravy train where ever it goes still lurk in Sierra Leone’s politics.Even though they see signs, they greedily would be there. They sheepishly follow the leader even when he is going wrong.They switch alliances every day. They hate the truth, epitomised by the press in the context of Sierra Leone.But when they hit the rock, they come crawling to the Fourth Estate. No wonder Sierra Leone would hardly have formidable policies. Our politicians have no character, no principles, no belief in themselves.Except for a few. Manna Kpaka? Victor Foh? Maybe. They believe in short and not long term gains.Like a pendulum, they keep swinging, swinging and swinging.What a shame.

Photo: Honourable Osman Kamara