Sierra Leone’s vampire politicians , empty promises and a people left bleeding

DRACULA: DEM DEY SUCK WE BLOOD

Sierra Leone’s Political Vampires, Empty Promises and a People Left Bleeding

By Melvyn Thomas

Lucky Dube’s “Dracula” is not really about a vampire hiding in some dark castle. It is about the kind of predator that walks among ordinary people, smiles in their faces, shakes their hands and speaks sweet words—while quietly feeding on them.

In Sierra Leone, Dracula does not need fangs.

He needs political power.

He needs access to the treasury, government contracts, public resources and the machinery of the state.

Then the feeding begins.

Dube’s Dracula appears friendly in daylight but reveals his true nature in darkness. That image cuts deep into Sierra Leonean politics. During elections, politicians suddenly become men and women of the people. They enter markets. They shake hands. They embrace children. They eat with ordinary citizens. They make promises that sound like salvation.
Jobs.
Electricity.
Water.
Roads.
Healthcare.
Development.
A better life.

Then the election is over.
The crowds disappear.
The promises disappear.

And the people are left waiting.
Waiting for jobs.
Waiting for development.
Waiting for relief.
Waiting for the next election.

Meanwhile, those who have gained power begin feeding from the very people they promised to serve.

That is Sierra Leone’s Dracula.

The blood in Dube’s song does not have to be literal. It can be the lifeblood of a nation—public money, natural resources, land, opportunities, taxes and the sweat of ordinary workers.

The people wake up early.
The people struggle.
The people pay taxes.
The people survive without adequate services.
The people send their children to school.
The people endure rising costs and unemployment.
Yet too often, the benefits of national wealth remain concentrated among those with political access.

The people produce.
The people sacrifice.
The people pay.
The connected feed.
And then they have the audacity to tell the people to be patient.

Dube’s Dracula is especially frightening because he does not arrive announcing, “I have come to destroy you.” He arrives with sweet words. He talks like a new president. He presents himself as the solution to problems he may ultimately help perpetuate.

That is the trick.

The vampire smiles before he bites.

The Sierra Leonean political vampire does not wear a black cape. He wears an expensive suit. He travels in a convoy. He stands behind microphones. He talks about patriotism and sacrifice. He tells the poor that their suffering is temporary.

But look beyond the speeches.
Look at the communities without adequate services.
Look at young people struggling to find meaningful opportunities.
Look at public institutions starved of resources.
Look at ordinary citizens hustling every day simply to survive.

Then ask the uncomfortable question:
Who is really benefiting from the system?

But the problem is bigger than politicians.

Dracula survives because there are people willing to protect him.

Political loyalists defend corruption when it comes from their side. Beneficiaries remain silent because they are eating from the system. People condemn patronage until they need a favour for themselves. Someone who screams about corruption today may be looking for a “connection” tomorrow.

Everybody knows the vampire is feeding.

But too many people are waiting for their turn at the table.

That is what makes Dube’s message so dangerous.
It forces society to look in the mirror.

The vampire is not only the corrupt politician. The vampire is also the system that allows corruption to become normal. It is the culture of silence, loyalty, patronage and selective outrage that keeps the machine alive.

And this is why “Dracula” hits so hard in Sierra Leone.

The most dangerous politician is not necessarily the one who openly hates the people.

It is the one who smiles at them while feeding on them.

The one who calls them “the people” during campaign season and forgets them once the votes are counted.

The one who tells citizens to tighten their belts while those around him live comfortably.

The one who talks about transformation while another generation of young people grows frustrated.

Dracula does not need fangs.

He needs access.

Give him the treasury.
Give him power.
Give him impunity.
And he will keep feeding.

Until the people finally realise that the blood being drained is theirs.