In many emerging democracies, the line between public service and personal political branding has grown dangerously thin. The recent pledge by a senior government official, Chief Minister David Moinina Sengeh, to distribute laptops and scholarships to party secretaries is not an isolated gesture, it is a symptom of a deeper, systemic problem. It reflects a political culture where public resources, public visibility, and public institutions are routinely leveraged for private political gain.
This pattern is neither new nor accidental. It is part of a long‑standing tradition in which political actors elevate themselves through acts of selective generosity, often framed as benevolence, empowerment, or “support.” Yet beneath the polished language lies a troubling reality: the personalization of state influence, the quiet redirection of resources meant for the many, and the normalization of political patronage disguised as development.
The “I, I, I” syndrome: When public office becomes a personal stage. Political communication in such contexts often centers on the individual rather than the institution. The narrative becomes one of personal heroism, “I pledged,” “I provided,” “I supported.” This rhetorical pattern is not harmless. It reinforces a political ecosystem where public achievements are framed as personal gifts, institutional responsibilities are overshadowed by individual branding, and citizens are conditioned to associate progress with personalities, not systems. This is how political dependency is cultivated. It is how accountability is diluted. And it is how public officials subtly reposition themselves as indispensable benefactors rather than custodians of the public trust.
Whether the resources in question come from state funds, donor programs, or discretionary budgets, the ethical issue remains the same: public office must never be used to advance partisan loyalty or personal political capital. When a politician selectively distributes benefits to party loyalists, especially those in strategic administrative positions, it raises legitimate concerns about misallocation of resources, political favoritism, the erosion of merit‑based opportunities, and the weakening of institutional neutrality. Such actions, even when framed as “support,” risk transforming public service roles into instruments of political indebtedness. They create a hierarchy of beneficiaries based not on national need, but on partisan alignment.
Acts like these may appear small or symbolic, but their cumulative impact is profound. They contribute to weakening institutional accountability. When political loyalty becomes a pathway to material gain, institutions lose their independence. Secretaries, administrators, and regional officers become politically beholden rather than professionally accountable. Funds that could strengthen education systems, improve healthcare, or support national development are instead funneled into politically strategic gestures. Entrenching a Culture of Patronage, citizens begin to expect personal gifts from politicians, and politicians begin to expect political loyalty in return. This cycle suffocates democratic growth. Undermining öublic trust, every act of selective generosity chips away at the belief that public officials act for the common good. Trust, once lost, is difficult to rebuild.
A functioning democracy requires more than elections, it requires vigilance. It requires citizens who can distinguish between genuine public service and political self‑promotion. It requires a public that refuses to be pacified by symbolic gestures while systemic issues remain unaddressed.
The question is not whether a politician can afford to give laptops or scholarships. The question is whether such acts align with the principles of transparency, fairness, and institutional integrity. Citizens deserve policies, not patronage. They deserve systems, not slogans. They deserve development, not political theatrics.
True leadership is not measured by how many gifts a politician distributes, but by how effectively they strengthen the institutions that outlast them. It is measured by how equitably resources are allocated, how transparently decisions are made, and how consistently the public interest is prioritized over personal political ambition.
Selective generosity may win applause in the short term, but it corrodes the foundations of governance in the long term. A nation cannot build a sustainable future on the shifting sands of political self‑promotion.
It is time to demand leadership that is principled, not performative. Leadership that strengthens institutions, not personal brands. And a leadership that serves the nation, not the party.
