By Rugiatu Neneh Turay, Head of the Amazonian Initiative Movement (AIM) and Chairperson of the Forum Against Harmful Practices (FAHP)

Sierra Leone has a new Child Rights Act (CRA). Did you hear about it? Probably not. You may not even have noticed. There were no cries of joy in the churches and mosques, no celebrations in the streets, nobody singing “Tenki tenki, Prezzo” to President Bio. For a country that should be proud of protecting its youngest citizens, the silence says everything. Because once again, the people who should be protected have been left behind.

When our President told Parliament in August that a nation’s strength is measured by how it protects its vulnerable, I believed him. But as the ink dries on this new law, those words sound empty. The Act was meant to bring safety and justice to children. Instead, it has brought confusion and disappointment.

After Parliament passed it in July, a statement was quickly released to clarify that female genital mutilation is not criminalized under the new law. That action wasn’t an effort to correct “media misreporting.” It was a message; a declaration of priorities. Politicians wanted to let the soweis know that they will protect tradition and politics before they protect women and girls.

Now, with the President’s signature this month, that hierarchy has been sealed into law. Supporters of the CRA say those in the anti-FGM movement shouldn’t worry, because laws alone would not have stopped the practice. That is just an excuse. The law is the foundation. We need it to exist before we can spread information and put steps in place for its enforcement.

Three years ago, we dared to believe that change was coming. Parliament debated a draft of the Child Rights Act that finally named FGM and included actual penalties for cutting. It was not perfect, but it was progress. This year, that progress was erased. Lawmakers used soft language to hide a hard truth. They replaced real protection with plenty English about “practices that dehumanize children,” as if avoiding the truth would make it easier to stomach. They removed what mattered most, then called it reform. That is not reform. That is retreat.

And the consequences of this cowardice are real people. They have names and faces. Every activist in this movement has looked at girls who bear the scars, both physical and emotional. We have listened to mothers who could do nothing as they watched their daughters bleed to death. We have held the hands of women who still have nightmares from what they endured.

Sierra Leone has already been told what must be done. The regional court has ruled that this practice is torture. It ordered our country to protect its citizens, to compensate survivors and to hold those responsible to account. Months later, nothing has moved. And still, our leaders talk about justice and equality as if words are enough.

Still, our President stands before Parliament and speaks about protecting the vulnerable. Meanwhile, just across the border, a neighboring president has chosen a different path. Does Liberia have more
vision, more resources, or less tradition than we do? Or are they just more committed to protecting their female citizens, even if it means standing up to those who seek to harm in the name of culture.

When will we stop putting up with injustice in the name of culture? What kind of culture demands a girl’s pain as proof of belonging? What kind of tradition celebrates a woman’s suffering as a rite of passage? There is no pride in that. There is only suffering. Doctors and midwives who treat the aftermath know the truth. The infections, the childbirth complications, the infertility, the lifelong trauma. These are not isolated stories. They happen in almost every community in this country. Awareness alone will not end this.

Mr. President, you know the promise you made to protect the vulnerable. This is your moment to prove that those words meant something. Implement the ECOWAS ruling. Call on Parliament to revisit the law and make it clear: cutting a girl’s body is a crime, not a custom. Show our daughters that their safety matters more than political fear. Prove to Sierra Leoneans that you are indeed our “#TalkAndDo” president.