By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
Sierra Leone’s national anthem is not just a song played before events or at school assemblies. It is a solemn pledge, a moral compass, a blueprint for national identity and collective character. But are we, from the highest echelons of power to the ordinary citizen, truly living up to its words? The anthem is clear in its aspirations: “High we exalt thee, realm of the free/Great is the love we have for thee.” Yet how many Sierra Leoneans today, in their actions and attitudes, exalt the nation or even understand what it means to do so?
Our anthem begins by describing our nation as a land of liberty. But what is freedom when citizens live in fear, fear of poverty, of lawlessness, of institutional injustice, of unemployment, of medical neglect, and even of those in power? What is freedom when journalists are muzzled, when the youth are manipulated for political violence, and when dissent is often met with intimidation? The lyrics proclaim liberty, but the reality of many Sierra Leoneans is hardship, helplessness, and humiliation.
The anthem continues: “Firmly united ever we stand/Singing thy praise, O native land.” But where is that unity? Our politics are deeply divisive, tribalism festers in every corner of governance, and nepotism is the ladder many must climb to survive or succeed. From the president to the local chief, allegiance is demanded not to the constitution or to national values, but to political parties, ethnic groups, or personal networks. Instead of praising the native land, we praise individuals. Instead of unity, we are entangled in factionalism and backdoor schemes that betray the very foundation of our republic.
And what about the youth? The anthem offers this prayer: “Blessing and peace be ever thine.” But the average Sierra Leonean youth is far from blessed. Their peace is often interrupted by economic instability, social neglect, and a future full of unanswered questions. In a land so rich in minerals, fertile land, and youthful energy, how has it become so easy to fail those who are meant to inherit the country?
Schools across Sierra Leone open each day with the singing of this anthem. Yet, many of these schools have no chairs, no books, and no chalk. Some even lack teachers. The children recite noble lines while sitting in broken classrooms or under trees. They are taught to sing of their duty to the nation, even when the nation has not lived up to its duty to them.
To be Sierra Leonean today is to live a contradiction between what we sing and what we see. The anthem calls on us to “Serve with heart and might” but our service is often coerced, uninspired, or exploited. Civil servants are underpaid and undervalued. Soldiers and police are politicized. Even in civil society, service is often monetized rather than moralized. The national call to duty has been replaced by a scramble for survival, where integrity is sacrificed for income and patriotism is mocked as naïveté.
This is not an attack on the anthem itself. Its words are beautiful, stirring, and full of hope. It is a mirror we must hold up to ourselves. It is a question we must ask: Are we worthy of these lyrics?
We must look at our leaders. When they sing the anthem at state functions, do they reflect on its meaning or merely perform a ritual? How can a president, a minister, or a parliamentarian stand with a hand on heart and sing of justice while condoning corruption? How can they sing of liberty when political opponents are silenced? How can they sing of unity while presiding over a system that prioritizes loyalty to party over loyalty to country?
But it is not just about them. The failure to live by our anthem is national. Parents teach their children to cheat the system because “that’s the way it works.” Business owners overprice goods without conscience. Citizens bribe police to escape consequences. Students pass exams through connections or copied scripts. Clergy exploit their flocks for profit. From high to low, we have normalized behavior that contradicts every line of our anthem.
If we are to reclaim our anthem as a true expression of who we are, then a national awakening is required, not just of the body politic but of the soul of the people. We must restore the link between our ideals and our actions. We must demand more from our leaders, but also from ourselves.
That means instilling the anthem in our governance, not just in ceremonies. Laws must reflect fairness and must be applied equally. Political appointments must be based on competence, not convenience. Public funds must be used for the public good. Leaders must live modestly and serve transparently, knowing they are stewards, not masters.
In our schools, the anthem must be more than a melody. It must be unpacked, taught, and reflected upon. Let the words be taught as values, not just verses. Let children understand what “O land that we love, our Sierra Leone” means in daily life, being honest, working hard, loving your country, protecting the environment, helping one another.
In our homes, we must preach integrity. Parents must stop glorifying shortcuts and instead emphasize character. Our conversations must change from “how to get by” to “how to stand tall.” From “what can I gain” to “what can I give.” From “it’s not my business” to “I am part of the solution.”
We are at a crossroads. If we continue to treat the anthem as a formality, we risk becoming a nation of empty pride and broken promises. But if we choose to live by its call, if we internalize its plea for justice, unity, freedom, and service, then Sierra Leone can rise from its stumbles, not just in word but in deed.
Let us conclude by remembering the anthem’s final line
“Land that we love, our Sierra Leone.”
That line is not a prediction. It is a prayer and a responsibility. Whether Sierra Leone will live evermore depends not on the beauty of our anthem, but on the behavior of its people. And until the day comes when the values in our anthem are the values in our lives, we must keep asking: Are we really living to the standards of our National Anthem?
Let us not just sing it. Let us become it.