Day of the African Child:
A Celebration of Lies and Betrayal
By Alpha Amadu Jalloh,
Author of Monopoly of Happiness: Unveiling Sierra Leone’s Social Imbalance,
Recipient of the 2025 Africa Renaissance Leadership Award,
Human rights advocate, peacebuilder and youth advocate.
Every year on June 16th we gather with fanfare and empty rhetoric to mark what we so proudly call The Day of the African Child. We organize parades, give speeches and dress our children in vibrant colors. We fill the air with songs of hope, praising the potential of our youth and proclaiming our love for the African child. But as we dance and clap, I cannot help but reflect on the painful hypocrisy that defines this day. There has never been a greater betrayal of our children than this annual ritual of lies wrapped in celebration.
On this day we tell our children that they are the future lawyers, doctors, engineers, presidents and leaders of tomorrow. We paint for them a picture of a bright, limitless future. But let me ask every parent, every leader, every so-called advocate of children’s rights, what have you done to make these dreams possible? What foundation have we laid to turn these promises into reality? Where are the mechanisms, the systems, the policies that will guide these children to the future we claim to envision for them?
The painful truth is that beyond the speeches and promises we have done nothing. We have created no meaningful path for our children to dream, let alone achieve those dreams. In Sierra Leone and in many parts of Africa the child is to be seen and not heard. Our children have no voice. They have no choice. They have no space to imagine or hope. The system is designed in such a way that a child who dares to dream is quickly reminded of their place. Powerless, invisible and burdened.
In our country children are often seen as income generating machines. Even their parents, out of desperation or greed, use them for survival. And what of those who are not their biological parents? They go into villages and poor communities with false promises. They promise education, safety and a better life in the cities. But once these children are brought into their homes they are turned into slaves. They serve as domestic workers, deprived of education, proper nutrition, healthcare and worst of all, dignity. These children are denied everything that makes childhood sacred and meaningful. Yet come June 16th we dress them up and deceive them with grand words that mean nothing.
Look into the eyes of these children. They bear the pain of adult burdens long before they are ready. We heap on them responsibilities that even grown men and women would crumble under. We rob them of the right to play, to learn, to laugh and to grow. But every year on the Day of the African Child we tell them they are cherished. We tell them their future is bright. How cruel we are.
Our girls suffer the most in this charade. In a society that sees girls as commodities their vulnerability is exploited from the moment they are old enough to walk. Many become mothers while still children themselves. They are forced into early marriages or lured into prostitution in the name of helping the family survive. Even in homes where they are supposed to be safe they are used as tools of survival, pushed into situations that rob them of their innocence and future. These are the children we claim to celebrate every June 16th. These are the children we continue to fail.
If we are honest we will admit that the Day of the African Child is not a celebration of our youth. It is a day of deceit. A day when we hide our guilt behind empty promises and speeches. A day when we cover up our collective failure with colorful ceremonies. A day when we momentarily silence the cries of the abandoned, the abused, the neglected and the exploited.
But it does not have to be this way. The Day of the African Child should be a day of reckoning. A day when we reflect deeply on our actions and inactions. A day when we ask ourselves hard questions and commit to real change. What laws have we enacted and enforced to protect our children? What schools have we built and equipped? What policies have we put in place to end child labor, early marriage and exploitation? What systems have we established to give every child a voice, a choice and a dream?
The African child does not need our empty praise. They do not need our songs and speeches. They need our action. They need schools, safe homes and equal opportunities. They need protection from those who would harm them, including those within their own families. They need a society that truly sees them as the future, not as tools, burdens or commodities.
As we mark this day let us stop fooling our children and ourselves. Let us stop turning June 16th into a festival of lies. Let us make it a day of truth and commitment. A day when we pledge, not with words but with deeds, to build a society where every child can dream and have the chance to make that dream a reality. Until then the Day of the African Child will remain what it has sadly become. A celebration of betrayal