By Jarrah Kawusu-Konte
It was not just the rhythm of drums or the sea of red and white that marked the day in Fourah Bay. It was a sense of homecoming. A powerful return to the cradle both of Dr. Ibrahim Bangura’s personal journey, and of the intellectual and political heritage of Sierra Leone itself.
Fourah Bay, long revered as the bastion of Islamic scholarship and the birthplace of Fourah Bay College, the first institution of higher learning in West Africa, stood tall and proud as its sons and daughters gathered to witness a historic moment. On that sun-soaked day, amidst ululations and ancestral blessings, the community performed the traditional crowning of Dr. Ibrahim Bangura. This was no ordinary endorsement, it was, essentially, an ancestral affirmation.
With a heart heavy in reflection and filled with reverence, Dr. Bangura paid tribute to the towering legacies of Fourah Bay: the scholars, statesmen, sheikhs, and sons of the soil who served Sierra Leone with dignity and devotion. He spoke of Muslim leaders striving, against all odds, to hold the community together in an age of confusion. And with solemnity, he led the gathering in observing a minute of silence for those who had gone before—men and women whose footsteps laid the path we now tread.
“This is sacred ground,” he said, his voice steady, eyes searching the crowd. “To lead Sierra Leone tomorrow, one must first honor those who built her yesterday.”
But Dr. Bangura was not only looking back. He was looking ahead, with fierce clarity.
He assured the APC family that their votes in 2028 and beyond will not only be counted, they will be defended. No one, he vowed, will be allowed to steal the people’s voice. And in a moment of statesmanlike grace, he cautioned his supporters never to speak ill of other APC leaders or aspirants.
“No one should insult a comrade on my account,” he declared. “If we are serious about unity, we must lead with respect. Every APC supporter is my brother or sister. We must not tear what we intend to build.”
His message was not one of division, it was of healing. He promised that even his rivals today will find a seat at the table tomorrow, should he emerge as the APC flagbearer after the 2026 National Delegates Conference. “True leadership is not about exclusion, it is about harnessing every strength,” he said.
And amid the thundering applause and spiritual fervor, there came a pause, an ache in his voice as he lamented the silent suffering across the nation.
“Pregnant women in labour are still being hauled on the backs of motorcycles, risking death to give life. This is not the Sierra Leone our ancestors fought for,” he said, as the crowd grew still. “We must build a country where our women are delivered in dignity not despair.”
He spoke of the crippling state of transportation, where students walk long distances just to attend lectures, and young girls abandon tertiary education because of poverty, distance, and danger. And of mothers, noble women with frying pans and dreams—harassed and humiliated for failing to repay micro-credit loans with interest rates designed for failure, not success.
He was clear that for a nation to grow, it must lift its women, not punish them for daring to dream because a nation that burdens its mothers has already lost its soul.
And as the sun dipped behind the sun-roasted roofs and minarets of old Fourah, Dr. Bangura’s words lingered like prophecy.
From the ashes of neglect, hope is rising.
From the wisdom of tradition, a new future beckons.
From Fourah Bay, a crown was placed on a man on a mission.
