Fellow Sierra Leoneans,
I hope you are all well despite whatever personal or collective challenges you may be facing. May those burdens be eased.
Please bear with me because this will be longer than my usual Facebook posts. I’m speaking to you today to clarify certain issues concerning me – not to defend myself – and I do so out of respect for you and the regard you have shown for my journalism. Although I know that no amount of the truth or explaining can persuade some people.
I can withstand the professional pressure I’ve been under — and more. After 30 years of practice, I’m fully aware of my impact. With all modesty, it is difficult to match my contribution: my dominance in news and current affairs, the intense scrutiny I have faced, and the calm manner in which I’ve carried myself through it all. No quarrels. No insults. No arrogance.
Permit me, however, a brief moment of conceit: For an entire generation, my written reports have been read religiously, my audio reports listened to with headphones, and my TV reports watched with keen attention. Combining excellence in print and audiovisual reporting is rare, and it has earned me trust, respect, impact — and an expectation of infallibility. If I report it, it’s taken as gospel truth. If I don’t, many assume it hasn’t happened, or that I have hidden it for all sorts of bizarre reasons. That perception, naturally, invites extreme scrutiny — sometimes ill‑informed, insolent, and verbally aggressive. But I have never allowed myself to be intimidated or to react out of character.
Recently, some opposition politicians and their supporters have accused me of being “silent” on the BBC regarding national issues. Some know the real reasons and are simply being mischievous. Others genuinely do not understand the situation — which is why I am explaining it here.
A few years ago, the BBC underwent a major financial restructuring that nearly crippled the African Service and drastically reduced its coverage of the continent. Several language services were shut down entirely.
This is why a programme like Focus on Africa, once the flagship live show for breaking African news, is no longer on air in the same form. Today it exists only as a pre‑recorded podcast, covering two or three issues with analysis. Naturally, many familiar voices — and even more producers behind the scenes — resigned as a result.
A foreign correspondent anywhere in the world must pitch stories. A Planning Editor then decides which ones are relevant, timely, and financially feasible. Stories must also appeal to audiences outside the correspondent’s country. For freelancers, global media houses carefully weigh every expense.
For any assignment outside Freetown, my travel, lodging and feeding are paid for by the media house that I go to cover a story for. In recent years, I’ve disagreed with some foreign outlets (not the BBC) over pay for out‑of‑town coverage. On one occasion, I declined an assignment entirely because we couldn’t agree on rates and conditions.
In 2014, I resigned as a BBC staff reporter after internal disagreements I won’t elaborate on. I chose the freelance path, which meant I could finally work for many other outlets — but also meant I was paid per story. No story, no pay. No paid holidays. If a pitch isn’t approved, I don’t cover it, and I bear the cost alone. Why would I willingly “stay silent” when reporting is how I earn my living?
You may have noticed me facilitating conferences more often in recent years. That is simply to ensure financial stability — to keep working. So what incentive would I have to be quiet?
Some argue that I reported regularly when their party was in power as if all my reports were negative. But back then, I was a staff reporter. Whether I produced two stories or twenty, my salary didn’t change. With my nose for news and my productivity, I was regularly on air. That environment no longer exists — neither within the BBC nor in my freelance situation.
In the past six weeks alone, I have pitched nearly a dozen stories that would easily have met the threshold for international coverage if the old Focus on Africa setup still existed.
Today, Sierra Leone stories must compete with the entire world — Ukraine, Gaza, Trump’s political resurgence, the Israel–US–Iran tensions, Sudan’s collapse, and even emerging security challenges in Nigeria that could potentially impact the whole of West Africa. Given all this, what exactly is happening in Sierra Leone which, some imagine, must automatically dominate global news — to the point that they accuse me of “silence”?
Someone even suggested I report national issues on Facebook. That amused me. I was the first to bring real-time news reporting to social media in Sierra Leone — likely before many other countries. When others were posting photos of their meals, I was reporting news. Many who do it today learned by watching me. Now that the space is crowded with bloggers and V-loggers, why should I compete with them?
When I reported news on social media back then, it was usually extended coverage of what I had already done for the BBC, Reuters, or Al Jazeera. My calls, travel, and expenses were covered. That is not the case today. So are those ordering me around expecting me to spend my own money gathering news without earning a cent? That is deeply unfair.
I appreciate the trust you have in my journalism, and I understand why you want to read or hear more from me. But I have a family to support and a charity that educates 22 children and young people — even though I prefer not to publicize this. I must therefore find legitimate ways to sustain myself without going out of pocket.
So I advise: fear God before you spread lies or hurl unearned insults — even though I believe no one deserves insults in any circumstance. The liars may be few, but their lies are dangerous in a society where people often accept what suits their bias and not necessarily what is right. All of us will meet our Maker one day. And I will not sit quietly while anyone deliberately lies about me or endangers me. God will judge them at His own time.
I am not a politician. But if I ever chose to enter politics, even the sky wouldn’t be my limit — I would aim for the stars, and I would reach them. Everyone who is honest knows this.
So please, allow me to remain the independent journalist I have been for thirty years.
God bless you.
