14th January 2026

BY: MR. SAMUEL KARIM, AND CHIEF ABDUL BERO KAMARA

(Academics, Consultants, Researchers, and Socio-Political Analysts)

In Sierra Leone today, justice appears to wear two uniforms: one made of iron for the poor, and another woven with velvet for the powerful.

Last week, on 7th January 2026, the Anti-Corruption Commission (ACC) reportedly arrested three senior management staff of the ASYCUDA Department of the National Revenue Authority (NRA) for the alleged theft of three billion old Leones a sum large enough to build schools, equip hospitals, or cushion struggling households battered by economic hardship. Yet, in a curious display of institutional tenderness, these suspects were not paraded through the streets of Freetown. Their faces were shielded, their identities protected, and their dignity preserved. No viral videos. No social media circus. No public shaming.

Contrast this with the fate of a staff of the Sierra Leone Broadcasting Corporation (SLBC), caught on CCTV allegedly stealing cameras and other equipment belonging to the state broadcaster. Within hours, his face became public property. He was splashed across social media platforms, televised nationwide, and subjected to a digital lynching long before any competent court could determine guilt or innocence. His right to confidentiality? Buried. His right to a fair trial? Sacrificed on the altar of public spectacle.

The question must be asked are there two justice systems in Sierra Leone?

One for those who steal in billions behind air-conditioned offices and official titles, and another for those who steal in desperation or opportunity without political insulation?

Under the Julius Maada Bio–led administration, the rhetoric of “no sacred cows” has been repeated often. Yet, reality stubbornly tells a different story. Sacred cows may not graze in the villages, but they appear well-fed and heavily guarded in government institutions.

If stealing a camera earns you national disgrace, but allegedly stealing billions earns you privacy and procedural caution, then the problem is not crime it is class. It is power. It is proximity to the state.

This selective application of justice sends a dangerous message:

Steal small, and you will be humiliated.

Steal big, and you will be handled with gloves.

Such a system does not deter corruption; it institutionalizes it.

Justice must not be performative. It must not be weaponized against the weak and suspended for the strong. The law must not tremble before titles, nor bow before offices. Whether one works at SLBC, NRA, State House, or any ministry, the law must remain blind not blindfolded selectively.

Sierra Leone does not need symbolic arrests or media-friendly prosecutions. It needs consistency, fairness, and courage. The dignity of a suspect should not depend on the size of the theft or the rank of the accused. Either confidentiality applies to all, or it applies to none.

Until then, citizens are justified to ask:

Is this a fight against corruption or merely a performance for the poor?

In a nation crying for justice, selective justice is not just hypocrisy, it is corruption wearing a robe.