By Isaac Massaquoi
Sierra Leone has been hit by high profile deaths in recent times and I am tempted to ask the whole nation to pray for God’s mercy on us. It started with SLPP majority leader Momoh Pujeh, then came the president’s mother, Madam Alice Koroma. On the day she was being laid to rest the congregation at the Wesleyan church in Makeni was stunned to hear that Deputy Speaker of Parliament Chukuma Johnson had died of some kind of a sudden attack.
From where I stood outside the church I could see people moving quietly to each other and I could tell that they were sharing the message of Johnson’s death. At least three text messages came through on my phone announcing the death of a man I interviewed many times in my early years in journalism while he was at the Freetown City Council. Technology was at work and it’s amazing that even without official confirmation, text messages were spreading fast. I received a few calls too asking for confirmation since some friends knew I was in Makeni. I could only give back what people who came from the scene had told me.
While Johnson’s burial plans were being finalised news spread once again that Labour Minister Hindolo Trye was dead. Let’s be honest, every Sierra Leonean would be concerned that our leaders were dying with such rapidity. I am probably opening myself up to charges that I am saying all this because “big people” have died. Many ordinary Sierra Leoneans are dying daily, are they not important? Someone may want to ask. I think it’s a valid point and I can only say that by the very nature of the beast called journalism, there is no way we can allow deaths like these to go without writing about them on the pages of our papers. The others are very important, I admit, but that’s just the way it is.
The first time I set eyes on Hindolo Trye was in 1992 just after the NPRC coup – it’s almost as if I was having my own transfiguration on Mount Aureol. Here was this guy about whom I had heard so much in my primary school days. He was the leader of the students of that powerful institution of learning where we all hope to be someday; he was the guy who had led his colleagues to challenge the authority of the mighty Papa Sheki in the “No School No College Campaign”. He was the guy who for a time at the height of the campaign was like the president of Sierra Leone. We heard a lot more about Hindolo and his friends. Many years later I was in the second year of my course at the same FBC and here was Hindolo Trye addressing the student body including me about what would easily be called a political earthquake.
The APC that had ruled Sierra Leone for more than twenty years with something of an iron fist looked on the verge of being removed from power by a group of young army officers. I say on the verge because even at that moment, less than a week after the coup, doubts lingered that Momoh’s government would fall without a struggle. In fact many people went about quietly thinking that the whole coup would be reversed by the APC deploying just one of its much talked-about 99 tactics.
The Amphitheatre was packed and Trye was on familiar terrain. He called on us not to be carried away by all the talk about revolution and the prosperity for all that the soldiers promised. He said as students we must be ready to keep the new rulers on their toes once they gave a clear picture of their intentions and how long they wanted to be in power.
I cannot quote his exact words now but he said something to the effect that if the soldiers tried to hold on to power indefinitely, he was ready to give students a crash training in military manoeuvres so that “we can take on these guys”. Then the whole assembly shouted “pour, pour.” At Fourah Bay College, then as now, it meant continue speaking. He rambled on for about half an hour and by the time he left many students were beginning to ask serious questions about the new government.
A few days earlier, our student leader at the time Gibril Samura had organised a march to Freetown in support of the NPRC. The march which went through the main streets of Freetown terminating at the National Stadium, was, according to many in the crowd that day, the most important action that helped the wobbling NPRC complete its capture of power.
At the end of the event at the stadium where the junta leaders drove round the field in their commandeered jeeps, we were disappointed that Charles Mbayo, the football-loving coup maker failed to deliver the buses he promised to lay on for students to be ferried back to campus after the march. He was to later bring two buses donated to the Sierra Leone Parliament by the Iranian government to campus. He handed them over to the students union as property of students of Fourah Bay College. We were happy once more but the stadium incident was one sign that convinced people like me that things would change soon. My friend Sheka Tarawalli, Shekito, perhaps in the same mood published an article with the headline Strasser, Redeemer or Villain? It was a brave thing to do as even some colleagues felt Shekito’s scepticism went too far.
Hindolo Trye picked up a job with the junta as Minister of Information and his immediate task was to restore the epileptic national broadcaster to life. Radio services had to be improved and extended all over the country and television which died in 1985 was to be brought back from the grave like Lazarus. Under Trye, with an accomplished broadcaster Babatunde Roland May in charge at Broadcasting House, the SLBS – radio and TV – came back to life and that was the beginning of 24-hour broadcasting in Sierra Leone. May was to preside over the best period in the life of the SLBS with the active support of Trye.
On completion of my course, I returned to my job in the newsroom of SLBS and hence had a lot of contacts with a much mellowed down Summanguru. He was a regular visitor at the place and I honestly can’t remember any instance when Summanguru attempted to interfere with our work. He probably did it in a much more sophisticated way than his recent predecessors. He was a real friend. Trye never behaved like Pallo Conteh who drives around Freetown under heavy military escort, siren blaring. I find it hard to believe that just because someone is a minister of defence, they will deploy almost a dozen soldiers with Kalashnikov rifles behaving like the average NPRC or AFRC minister. Many people are well and truly fed up with this unnecessary display of power and influence.
The death of Summanguru speaks loudly about life itself. Shekito is now a politician and until a few days ago was serving in the same government with Summanguru Trye. Here I am teaching at Fourah Bay College and still working as a journalist.
The last time I saw Summanguru was at the funeral at Mathoir of another minister who was also a journalist, Mohamed Daudis Koroma. He looked a little frail but was still witty and friendly. He pulled over and spoke with me for about three minutes, basically asking about my work since leaving the SLBS and my family. He asked me to come over to the office for a chat. I promised to do so the next day. I never did. In fact after the funeral I proceeded to Bo on my way to a programme in Monrovia.
At the amphitheatre on that day, Trye told students that they should never allow the APC to return to power. He said something to the effect that if the APC attempted to return to power by force, we must resist until there was nothing left to govern. The APC is of course a very resilient party. They are back in power despite all the battering and Trye died serving them as Minister of Labour. Former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher says “it’s a funny old world”. Isn’t it? I believe her.
