By Alpha Amadu Jalloh
There comes a time when silence becomes a crime, when the complacency of those sworn to protect us turns into betrayal, and when the state itself becomes an accomplice to wrongdoing. Sierra Leone has reached that point. The Sierra Leone Police (SLP), led by Inspector General William Fayia Sellu and his communications head, Inspector Brima Kamara, have turned justice into theatre and truth into treason. What is unfolding before our eyes is not just incompetence but deep dishonesty, and the case of Jos Leijdekjers and the kidnapping of Alan Jalloh exposes that rot in its rawest form.
For months, the name Jos Leijdekjers has echoed across Sierra Leonean homes, media, and international platforms. This man is no ghost. He is a Dutch national wanted in Europe for major crimes, including drug trafficking and organized criminal activity. Yet, in the circus of Sierra Leonean governance, our police behave as if his existence is gossip, not fact.
It began when the first videos of Jos Leijdekjers and the President’s daughter surfaced online, in a church, on a farm, and in close proximity with the First Family. What should have prompted an urgent and impartial investigation instead triggered a national embarrassment. The revelation did not lead to scrutiny; it led to silence. Since then, the police have treated the matter with contempt, as if investigating a man tied to the President’s household would be too costly to their careers.
The daughter of the President is not just a bystander in this unfolding drama. She is the mother of Jos Leijdekjers’ child, a fact that ties the country’s most wanted associate of international drug trafficking directly to the President’s family. The connection has made the Sierra Leonean people question not only the integrity of the presidency but the very soul of the nation.
Even more alarming is the involvement of other members of the First Family. The President’s niece, Admire Bio, has been allegedly involved in drug trafficking activities, while his nephew, Yankuba Bio, serves as the head of the Sierra Leone Harbour and Ports Authority, an institution now under scrutiny for being one of the country’s main transit points for narcotics. The entanglement of the First Family with individuals and institutions linked to the drug trade has reduced Sierra Leone to a nation at the mercy of criminal networks masquerading as public servants.
Inspector General William Fayia Sellu himself claimed that the man in question is known as Umar Sheriff, not Jos Leijdekjers. This deliberate distortion of the truth shocked the public and insulted the nation’s intelligence. The Dutch authorities have since confirmed that Umar Sheriff and Jos Leijdekjers are the same person, a man moving freely in Sierra Leone’s elite circles while being wanted abroad. Yet the Sierra Leone Police have failed to detain him or even acknowledge his presence in the country.
What is most shameful is the total lack of credible investigation from Inspector General Sellu and his team. No public statement, no briefing, no evidence of pursuit. Just official silence wrapped in arrogance. Meanwhile, the presidential spokesman, Alhaji Alpha Kanu, claims ignorance of the man’s existence, and the Minister of Information calls it a family matter. Since when did national security and organized crime become family affairs?
This dishonesty has peeled back the mask of governance and revealed a network of criminal collaboration operating under the cloak of official power. Jos Leijdekjers, alias Umar Sheriff, has long had ties with two former immigration officials, including one who now heads the National Drug Enforcement Agency. The same agency that should be cracking down on the drug trade has its roots entangled with the very figures enabling it.
Is it any wonder Sierra Leone has now been blacklisted internationally for drug trafficking? The government makes noise about fighting drug dealers but never utters the word cocaine. The reason is simple: the real traffickers allegedly dine with some of those in the corridors of power. Our ports, airports, and police appear to have been compromised, and the lines between enforcement and criminality seem to have vanished.
The abduction of Alan Jalloh brings this crisis to its most painful and human level. His disappearance on 28th October has shaken the conscience of the nation. Alan’s only crime, it seems, was crossing paths with the wrong people, people connected to Jos Leijdekjers. Yet the Sierra Leone Police, instead of investigating the perpetrators or recovering the victim, chose to raid Alan’s own home, searching for evidence. Evidence of what? His own abduction? What could be more absurd, more cruel, and more telling of a corrupt system?
Alan Jalloh’s case is not an isolated tragedy; it is a symptom of a deeper disease. The police no longer work for the people. They work for those in power and their associates. Every time a case touches someone close to the political elite, the officers retreat, mutter about orders from above, and disappear into silence. The force has been reduced to a shield for the corrupt and a weapon against the weak.
Even within the police ranks, many officers privately confess their frustration. They know what is happening. They know who is being protected. But they also know the price of speaking the truth in Sierra Leone, demotion, transfer, or silence.
Meanwhile, the international community watches in disbelief. The Dutch government has been clear about Jos Leijdekjers’ identity and the need for cooperation, yet our government pretends ignorance. Sierra Leone, once praised for its democratic promise, is now whispered of being a narco-satellite state, a country hijacked by networks of traffickers, politicians, and their enforcers in uniform.
How ridiculous can a nation become when the President’s own family is linked to a wanted criminal, yet the police find it more convenient to deny his existence than confront him?
The Sierra Leone Police, the Ministry of Information, and the Office of the President have all failed the nation. They have traded the moral duty of service for loyalty to individuals. They have turned law enforcement into a stage play, where the actors wear badges but perform for their masters.
It is no longer about politics; it is about the survival of truth. When those entrusted with the safety of citizens become protectors of criminals, the nation ceases to function as a state. The question must now be asked: who truly governs Sierra Leone, the elected officials or the shadowy figures behind them?
The people of Sierra Leone cannot afford to stay silent. Civil Society, journalists, religious leaders, and international partners must demand transparency. The kidnapping of Alan Jalloh must be fully investigated, and the connection between Jos Leijdekjers and Sierra Leone’s power structures must be exposed.
Sierra Leone deserves better. The people deserve a government that values truth over deception and safety over silence. The police must remember that their oath was to protect the citizens, not the powerful.
The Sierra Leone Police under Inspector General William Fayia Sellu and his spokesman Inspector Brima Kamara have reduced the nation to a spectacle of mockery. They forget that power is temporary, that truth never dies, and that no government that is built on deceit can stand forever.
Our nation’s name has been dragged through the mud, our institutions weakened, and our citizens betrayed. Yet, even in this darkness, hope must live. Because one day, truth will rise again, and the Sierra Leone Police will have no choice but to serve the people, not their masters.