Janet Mumgbay Zizer
Freetown, 4th June, 2026—In 2014, Sierra Leone was thrust into one of the darkest chapters of its public health history: Ebola. The Ebola virus entered through Kailahun District, a border region linked to Guinea and Liberia. The Virus escalated into a national trauma.
By the time the outbreak was declared over on 7th November 2015, according to WHO, the country had recorded 8,704 infections and 3,589 deaths, including 221 healthcare workers who lost their lives in the line of duty.
Across West Africa, a report made by NIH›National Library of Medicine National Center for Biotechnology Information recorded that more than 28,600 people were infected and 11,325 deaths, making it the deadliest Ebola outbreak ever documented.
Behind every statistic lies a human story. Yussuf Kabba, an Ebola survivor from Allentown, Eastern part of Freetown, recalls the harrowing journey that began on 6th October, 2014. His relative, a medical doctor, unknowingly contracted the virus after repeated misdiagnoses, Kabba says. When the doctor died, the community was shaken, he says, stating that then he began to feel the telltale symptoms: severe headaches, joint pain and vomiting.
“I looked at the ambulance like a death trap,” Yussuf remembers. “It had taken away family members and friends who never returned.”
At the Waterloo Newton Holding Center, he reveals that: “I was vomiting blood and stooling at the same time. I was hopeless.” He recalls a teenage girl begging him for help, but he was too weak to respond. Yet, amid despair, he found hope when he saw other patients were preparing for discharge.
Yisufu said on 29th November, 2014, he was released as one of the few who survived while six of his family members perished.
Survival did not mean peace. Yussuf faced stigma in his community, even in places of worship. “At the mosque, I turned and realized no one was around me,” he recounts. Friends stopped answering his calls and whispers of fear followed him. For him, Ebola was not just a disease; it was a social wound that lingered long after recovery.
The scars of 2014–2016 remain deeply etched in Sierra Leone’s collective memory. Health authorities acknowledge that the country’s current Ebola readiness score is 51%, below the World Health Organization’s recommended benchmark of 80%.
The Minister of Health Dr. Austin Demby, however, has made it clear what has been increased and the National Public Health Agency (NPHA) has reassured citizens that Sierra Leone remains Ebola-free, stating that preparedness is being strengthened in light of recent outbreaks in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) and Uganda.
The DRC’s latest outbreak reported in May, 2026 involves the Bundibugyo strain, with hundreds of suspected cases in Ituri Province.
For survivors like Yussuf, the news from the DRC is unsettling. “I don’t want to experience this again,” he says. “I lost six family members. I saw people die in front of me. We must learn from the past and be prepared.”
Ebola is not just a disease of the past. It is a warning about the cost of weak health systems, delayed responses, and misinformation. But it is also a testament to resilience that even in the midst of death, survival is possible, and those stories must never be forgotten.
