By Mackie M. Jalloh
Fourah Bay, once a beacon of community pride on the football stage, now finds its football legacy teetering on the brink of collapse — not because of a lack of talent or community support, but due to the reckless, selfish, and secretive behaviour of its own executive members. The team that once brought joy and unity through its COFA triumph is now a fractured, unstable mess — all owing to a group of executives who have abandoned accountability, dismissed transparency, and insulted the very community they claim to serve.
After the community’s brilliant victory in the last COFA competition, one would expect that the players — the real warriors on the pitch — would be celebrated with honour and dignity. But instead of celebration, what followed was betrayal. There was no guard of honour, no community-wide appreciation, and worse, the players were compensated with petty, insulting tokens, far below what they expected or deserved. No dignity. No gratitude. No leadership.
Is this how we reward those who made us proud? Is this how we treat our own sons who defended the Fourah Bay name?
The damage caused by this executive rot is not just emotional — it’s now tearing the team apart. Many of the players who brought us glory have vowed never to wear the Fourah Bay jersey again. And who can blame them?
Other communities, recognizing our players’ worth, have wasted no time. They are signing our stars — our very own players — while the Fourah Bay executive sits idle in arrogant silence. Even our head coach, a pillar of our tactical strength, has now been signed by another community. This is the shameful result of leadership that would rather hoard control than nurture success.
Since the trophy was won, the executive — particularly the team manager — has remained silent, evasive, and dismissive. Community members have made repeated calls for transparency, demanding answers on:
- How much money was earned from the trophy?
- How was the victory celebration budgeted and spent?
- What is the plan for defending the title in the next COFA tournament?
Even worse, threats and insults have reportedly been issued to community members asking questions. One executive member is even quoted as saying they “owe no one an explanation” and that “nothing will be handed back to the community” — not even jerseys and other materials that clearly belong to the people.
Let us be clear: this is not a private football team. This is a community team, bearing the name Fourah Bay, formed by and for the people, and registered through the endorsement of the community Alikalie. No single executive member or group owns this team — the community does.
A Community at War with its Own Executives
Today, Fourah Bay football is a house divided. Community members are outraged, openly confronting the executive, while the leadership doubles down on silence and contempt. Negative feedback dominates every forum, with citizens demanding answers and a clear plan for the future.
How can we defend a title when we can’t even defend unity within our camp? How can we claim to represent Fourah Bay when the very people are being ignored, insulted, and robbed of their rights?
If the executive continues down this road, Fourah Bay will not just lose its title — it will lose its team, its pride, and the respect of every football-loving community in Sierra Leone.
We demand:
- An immediate public account of the COFA prize money and celebration funds.
- A breakdown of expenses and allocations, including player compensation.
- A public meeting between the community and the executive before the next competition begins.
- The return of all materials, equipment, and property belonging to the Fourah Bay community.
- A clear plan for the next COFA tournament: team structure, leadership, and goals.
If the current executive cannot meet these basic responsibilities, then they must step aside. We cannot and will not allow a group of self-serving individuals to continue operating in secrecy while the community bleeds its talent and pride.
Fourah Bay belongs to all of us — not a few. And if the executive won’t protect its legacy, the people will.
This is not just a warning. It is a wake-up call.