By Sulaiman Aruna Sesay
December in Sierra Leone has always carried a special rhythm. It was the season when streets filled with music, families reunited from far and near, and communities shared food, laughter, and stories late into the night. For many, December was not just the end of the year—it was a celebration of survival, gratitude, and togetherness.
Today, that familiar glow has dimmed. Rising hardship has reshaped how December is experienced across the country. The high cost of living, limited job opportunities, and daily economic pressures have forced many families to scale back or completely abandon the celebrations that once defined the season. New clothes are postponed, travel plans cancelled, and festive meals reduced to what is simply available. The joy that once overflowed into public spaces now feels quieter, more cautious.
This loss is not just about entertainment or tradition—it reflects deeper challenges. When people struggle to meet basic needs, celebration becomes a luxury. The December that once symbolized reward after a hard year now mirrors the same uncertainty faced in January, February, and beyond. For young people especially, the absence of festive opportunities has turned what used to be a season of excitement into a reminder of unmet hopes.
Yet, even in this changed December, something enduring remains. Across churches, mosques, and homes, many Sierra Leoneans continue to lean on faith. Those who trust in God—often referred to simply as “God’s people”—have not allowed hardship to extinguish hope. Instead of loud celebrations, faith has taken quieter forms: prayers for provision, gratitude for life itself, and trust that better days will come. In sermons and conversations, the message is consistent—circumstances may change, but faith must remain steady.
This resilience is worth recognizing. Faith has become a coping tool, a source of emotional strength, and a reminder that hardship does not have the final word. While December may have lost some of its outward sparkle, for many believers it has gained deeper meaning—one rooted not in what is owned, but in what is believed.
Faith alone should not silence honest conversations. A constructive reflection on December’s transformation must also challenge leaders, institutions, and communities to address the realities behind the hardship. Hope thrives best when paired with action—policies that support livelihoods, opportunities for young people, and systems that protect the most vulnerable.
December in Sierra Leone may no longer look the way it once did, but it still tells an important story. It is a story of struggle, yes—but also of endurance. In the absence of extravagant celebration, the quiet strength of faith and resilience continues to light the season. And perhaps, in that quiet light, lies the foundation for a brighter December yet to come.
