Opinion: The Old Boys and Girls Have Taken Over the March Pass—And We’re Loving It

In Sierra Leone, march passes have always been more than just uniformed parades and synchronised steps. They’re cultural landmarks, ceremonies of pride, and for many schools, the annual moment to remind the country who they are. But lately, the spectacle has shifted in an exciting, almost theatrical way. The spotlight, it seems, now belongs to the old boys and girls—and they’ve shown up not just with spirit, but with swagger.

What was once a student affair has evolved into a vibrant, often hilarious, and profoundly emotional expression of school pride among alumni, who are transforming school celebrations into full-blown cultural festivals. And they are not just marching—they are staging comebacks, reclaiming traditions, and even rewriting what it means to be a part of something.

Let’s start with this weekend’s Prince of Wales affair. It was hard to miss the bold parade led by an ‘aha’- the Lion buttons in place of the allegedly promised live lion. Alumnus dressed in full costume, roaring through the streets with an energy that instantly set the school apart. What could have been dismissed as pageantry was, in fact, powerful symbolism: the Lion was awake, and old boys were back to reclaim their roar.

At Albert Academy, things took a more comedic turn in their recent march. When students showed up with their trademark red dye uniforms a little too dyed up, it sparked a viral moment. But it wasn’t shame—it was solidarity. Old boys turned it into a running joke and a rallying cry. “Paint us red if you want—but you can’t paint over our legacy,” one alumnus quipped online. In the same vein, St. Edward’s brought their flair with an iconic throwback—the “Old Coat”—which sparked cheeky jabs and light-hearted rivalry among schools. Sierra Leoneans love a good banter, and the alumni delivered.

The Bo School versus Christ the King rivalry also added some unexpected fashion flair last year. Not to be outdone by the marching students, the wives of some old boys boldly joined in the parade, donning their husbands’ school blazers with elegance and confidence. “Bo School wives don’t march, they glide,” someone joked on social media. CKC women responded in kind. It was playful, yes, but also a beautiful reminder of how school pride can transcend generations and even extend into family.

And then there’s Annie Walsh—the old girls pulled off something genuinely extraordinary. They raised a whopping amount of funds in 2024 to support the school’s development, setting a record and a new bar for alumni involvement. But what warmed hearts even more? Their husbands and male allies showed up to the march pass in custom vests boldly emblazoned: “We Are the Annie Walsh Boys.” If that’s not solidarity, what is?

Not to be left behind, the Conventonians (St. Joseph’s Convent) also built a whole new school block. That’s not just marching with pride, that’s investing with purpose. These alumni aren’t just waving flags, they’re laying foundations—literally.

So what’s really going on here?

We are witnessing a shift in how legacy schools in Sierra Leone connect with their past. The old boys and girls are no longer passive cheerleaders. They’re active custodians of their schools’ futures. They’re donating, designing costumes, organising logistics, telling stories, and in some cases, out-marching the students themselves. The march pass has become a national stage where history, humor, rivalry, and hope come alive.

Some may see this as nostalgia on steroids. But it’s more than that. In a time when public institutions are struggling, when the country’s youth need mentorship and direction, these alumni are proving that school loyalty can be a fundamental driver of community strength, innovation, and even national pride.

Yes, we still need them to do more—support scholarships, invest in science labs, champion digital access—but the momentum is there. And if you’ve seen the level of energy, creativity, and fundraising happening around these school events, you’ll know that this isn’t a passing trend. It’s a movement.

The march pass is no longer just for the students. It’s a cross-generational call to march, to give, to laugh, to remember, and, most of all, to belong. And in Sierra Leone, the old boys and girls? They’re marching like they never left.

Let’s March! Left Right – Forward March!

The Author

Lolo Yeama Sarah Thompson-Oguamah is a veteran Sierra Leonean journalist with over 25 years of experience. She is renowned for her contributions to media development and gender equality. She is the founder and publisher of Sierra Leone’s first fact-checking platform, Salone Fact Checker (www.salonefactchecker.com), which promotes transparency and evidence-based journalism, and the founder and Chief Executive Officer of Initiatives for Media Development (www.imdevsl.com). Lolo strongly advocates for women’s rights and media literacy, empowering women and girls through media and challenging harmful stereotypes. As the Managing Director and Editor-in-Chief of the Sierra Leone News Agency (www.slena.gov.sl ), she continues to drive media integrity, gender inclusivity, and the advancement of women’s rights in Sierra Leone.