Eight Years of Broken Promises:
How the “New Direction” Became a Dead End
By Ibrahim Alusine Kamara (Kamalo)
When Julius Maada Bio and the Sierra Leone People’s Party swept into State House in 2018, they carried more than votes. They carried a nation’s hope. “New Direction” and “Paopa Salone for Betteh” were not just slogans but they were promises that after decades of stagnation, corruption, and missed opportunities, Sierra Leone would turn a corner. Ordinary people across the country welcomed the change with open arms, expecting jobs, accountability, and a government that would finally put citizens first.
Eight years later, that hope lies in ruins.
For many Sierra Leoneans, the Bio era has delivered a socio-economic reality that is not just disappointing, but historically bad. Critics across the political spectrum argue that the country’s condition today is worse than at any point since independence. Some even claim it rivals, and in certain respects exceeds, the misery of the 11-year civil war. The evidence they point to is stark: jobs lost at scale, businesses collapsed, and lives cut short by violence, neglect, and despair. Trust in public institutions has collapsed. Social mobility has stalled. Human dignity, once a rallying cry of the SLPP campaign, has been battered by inflation, unemployment, and a sense that the state no longer serves its people.
The tragedy is not just in what has been lost, but in what was squandered. The administration inherited goodwill, international support, and a public eager for reform. Instead of consolidating that momentum, it has presided over a period where expectations have been replaced by cynicism, and optimism by survivalism.
Now, as 2028 approaches, the mood within the ruling establishment has changed. The confidence that defined the early years has given way to visible unease. The Paopa operatives who once dismissed opposition as irrelevant now see a public that is angry, organized, and unwilling to be placated by slogans. The response has not been course correction, it has been calculation.
The political playbook has shifted toward institutional engineering. The push for a Proportional Representation electoral system is framed as inclusivity, but critics see it as a mechanism to dilute accountability and fragment opposition votes. Talk of a power-sharing executive arrangement sounds like unity on the surface, but in practice looks like a contingency plan for a party that fears losing outright. The indefinite delay of the national census, the packing of supposedly independent democratic institutions with loyalists, and the refusal to implement agreed electoral reforms all point in the same direction of preserving control by any means necessary.
These moves are not happening in a vacuum. They are happening against the backdrop of the State Protection Service, a new entity created under the National Security and Central Intelligence Act. On paper, the SPS is presented as a modernization of national security architecture. In reality, legal scholars and civil society groups argue it is a constitutional time bomb.
The Act establishes an intelligence coordination body that sidelines the National Security Council, concentrating power in the hands of the executive. More troubling is the creation of an armed presidential guard that operates outside the command structure of the Defence Council. This directly contravenes Sections 165(2) and 167 of the Armed Forces Act and Defence Council Act, which vest all armed command authority in the Defence Council. The implication is clear: Sierra Leone is moving toward a paramilitary unit answerable only to the presidency and its intelligence director. For a country with a history of military intervention in politics, the symbolism and risk are hard to ignore.
Alongside this, rumors persist that the government is preparing legislation to prohibit the establishment of any commission of inquiry into the stewardship of outgoing officials. If true, it would close the door on accountability at the exact moment when public demand for it is peaking. It is the move of a government that fears its own record more than it fears the opposition.
International pressure has not gone unnoticed. The UN Secretary-General has publicly urged President Bio to implement the Agreement for National Unity and the 80 recommendations of the Tripartite Committee. Those recommendations were the product of national dialogue, intended to rebuild trust and set the country on a path of democratic consolidation. Instead of acting on them, the administration appears to be doubling down on strategies that prioritize short-term political survival over long-term stability.
This is where the term “jitteriness” comes in. A government confident in its record does not need to rewrite the rules mid-game. It does not need parallel security structures. It does not need to block investigations into its own conduct. These are the actions of a political force that senses the ground shifting beneath it, and is scrambling for a lifeline.
The deeper issue is one of political philosophy. When the SLPP believed it had the unwavering support of the majority, it governed without the need for structural safeguards against itself. Now that belief has eroded, the philosophy has changed. The focus is no longer on expanding democratic space, but on narrowing it to prevent loss. That is not democratic deepening but it’s democratic hedging.
For Sierra Leoneans, the stakes are personal. This is not an abstract debate about electoral systems or security laws. It is about whether the next election will be free and fair. It is about whether institutions can hold power to account. It is about whether a country that has already endured civil war will be forced to test its democratic resilience again.
The international community is watching closely. So are ordinary citizens in Freetown, Bo, Kenema, and Makeni. They remember the promises of 2018. They measure those promises against the reality of 2026. The gap is wide, and it is growing.
History rarely forgets how power behaves when it senses it is slipping. The next two years will determine whether the SLPP is remembered as the party that delivered a “New Direction,” or as the party that tried to rig the compass when the people turned away.
As 2028 approaches, one thing is clear: Sierra Leone deserves better than managed decline and constitutional brinkmanship. The country needs governance that restores trust, respects the rule of law, and puts national interest above party survival. No amount of legal maneuvering or paramilitary posturing can substitute for that.
Karma, as critics say, may be in the offing. But elections come first. And the people will decide.