By Juma Mubarak (Mr. Solution)
It was Wednesday, July 23rd, a day that began like any other in Freetown. But by afternoon, the skies darkened, the winds picked up, and the rain began to fall fast, furious, and unrelenting.
It was not an ordinary storm. It was a disaster in motion. Within hours, from the mountaintops to the mainland, from the hillside neighborhoods to the low-lying seaside communities, water swallowed everything in its path. Streets disappeared. Homes collapsed. Families scattered.
Though several areas across the city were badly affected, New England Ville, high in the hills overlooking the capital, suffered one of the worst blows. Floodwaters surged through the community with terrifying force. Entire homes were submerged.
Some residents never made it out alive. The lucky ones stood in soaked silence, clinging to what little remained. Parents called for missing children. Elderly survivors were carried through debris. And as the water receded, it left behind not only destruction but despair.
In moments like these, many stand back. Some offer sympathy from a distance. But one man chose to move. Hon. Chernor Ramadan Maju Bah, Chericoco, arrived not with a speech, not for a photo op, but with compassion in his heart and solidarity in his hands.
He walked the broken paths of New England Ville, greeted grieving families, and surveyed the damage with heavy eyes. He brought more than relief supplies. He brought humanity. Food, clean water, essential materials. Yes. But he also offered what so many needed most: presence. Reassurance. A listening ear. A steady hand. He held the hands of survivors, bowed his head in prayer, and whispered softly, you are not alone.
After the visit, a close aide to Hon. Chericoco confided that the experience left him devastated. Cherie is still visibly shaken, the aide said. He hasn’t been himself since. He’s sad, disturbed. The stories he heard, the faces he saw, have not left him. He told me the scene felt like something out of a film, only it was heart breakingly real.
For those who know Chericoco, this is nothing new. His compassion has never been reserved for cameras or campaign seasons. In November 2021, when a fuel tanker exploded in Wellington and turned a quiet community into an inferno, he was among the very first senior leaders to arrive. Not for attention. Not for optics. But because service is his instinct. And even when circumstances don’t permit his physical presence, he never leaves a community unsupported. He channels his help through party structures, local leaders, or trusted community representatives to ensure those in need are reached swiftly and with dignity.
This is not a time for blame. It is not a moment for politics. It is a moment to reflect, to respond, to rebuild. And Chericoco has called on all Sierra Leoneans to rise with empathy. Let us not ignore the cries from the hills, the coastline, or the mainland, he said. Let us rally in prayer, in kindness, and in action. No one should suffer alone. Not now. Not ever.
In a country often struck by disaster and slow to heal, Hon. Chericoco continues to stand out, not for grand speeches or hollow promises, but for quiet acts of service, deep emotional connection, and consistent loyalty to the people he serves. To the families of New England Ville and all communities affected by the July floods, your suffering has been seen. Your courage is acknowledged. And in the face of the storm, a true friend showed up, not with noise but with heart.
When the flood came, it drowned many things. Belongings. Memories. Lives. But it did not drown empathy. It did not drown resilience. And it could not drown the unwavering spirit of a man who continues to prove that in times of crisis, real leadership doesn’t shout. It shows up.
His name is Chericoco. And when Sierra Leone weeps, he walks toward the tears, not away from them.
