Tonko Limba & Bramaia Residents Shocked to Discover That “Roads” Are Still a Thing in 2024

By Ibrahim S. Bangura

KAMBIA DISTRICT, Tonko Limba – In a stunning revelation that has left residents in utter disbelief, locals from the Tonko Limba and Bramaia chiefdoms have come to the shocking conclusion that roads still exist – at least in theory. Yes, those ancient ribbons of infrastructure once used to transport goods, people, and, occasionally, hope, are allegedly still part of the government’s blueprint for the region. However, in their current state, they are more suitable for an obstacle course than an actual route of travel.

Leading the charge in this discovery was Alhaji Samura, a local hero from Madina, who, with the determination of a man trying to salvage his car from a swamp for the fifth time, expressed profound astonishment that roads were ever promised in the first place. “The government discussed our roads in parliament! Parliament!” Samura shouted, visibly shaken as if he had just discovered that unicorns once roamed the land. “We were so hopeful. They built roads in other chiefdoms—beautiful, drivable roads. But here we are, holding onto the memory of that parliamentary promise like it’s a fairy tale.”

Rainy Season or Amateur Kayaking Event? Samura went on to explain that, during the rainy season, the roads morph into something resembling a national mud wrestling competition. “Forget driving. It’s more like trying to navigate a small boat through quicksand. Vehicles are getting stuck, people are abandoning their cars, and drivers avoid the place like it’s cursed. We’ve seen more accidents than potholes… wait, that’s actually impossible because the entire road is one big pothole!”

Residents say that these natural disaster-esque roads have been responsible for severe food shortages, but apparently, food scarcity is just a minor inconvenience compared to the carnival ride that is “Kambia Road Travel.” Perishable goods? Spoiling like yesterday’s news! But hey, at least everyone gets a free workout pushing vehicles out of the mud.

For a Limited Time Only: Pay 5 Times the Fare!
Sento Bangura, a local trader, gave her testimony in a voice laden with bitterness. “Drivers either refuse to transport our goods or demand fares so high you’d think they were chauffeuring the president. It used to cost NLe35 to go to Freetown. Now? NLe150!* Just for the privilege of bouncing around like you’re on a carnival ride where the seatbelt’s broken. Even the motorbike taxis are in on the action, charging NLe200 like they’re offering a luxury airlift.”

Bangura then described the five-month vehicular blockade to Kukuna. Apparently, the road has been so bad that food shortages in the area have skyrocketed. Locals now ponder whether “exorbitant food prices” could soon be their new tourist attraction, as the local economy dries up faster than the promises of infrastructure reform.

Farming Meets Extreme Sports
The farming community, famous for growing things in places where nothing else thrives, has become part of an unintended survival reality show. Farmers must now participate in an endurance challenge, transporting goods through what appears to be the rough terrain of a post-apocalyptic wasteland. And you thought farming was all hard work and no drama! Try selling cassava after a three-day trek over what could only be described as a motocross track designed by sadists.

Kamara’s Odyssey
Mohamed Kamara, a driver who has seen more drama on Kambia’s roads than in a soap opera, recounted his harrowing experiences: “I’ve been stuck on this road for two days. Two days! My passengers have been alternating between napping and existential crises.” Kamara’s sense of existential dread was echoed by other drivers, who have long accepted that Kambia’s roads are more of a conceptual challenge than a functional path. Kamara and his fellow drivers are hoping the government will eventually notice that the roads exist—and might, in fact, need some work.

Disaster Risk Reduction Team Does All It Can—Which Is Mostly Waiting
Umar Mustapha Sillah, the local disaster risk reduction expert, confirmed that, yes, things are indeed disastrous. He recounted tales of runaway trucks and road collapses with a grim tone, as though describing scenes from an action movie. “We’ve raised the alarm for years, but apparently, roads aren’t as important as they once were. People used to believe in them like they believed in gravity.”

In Conclusion: Hope Travels Slower Than a Bike on These Roads
Despite the growing frustration and deteriorating conditions, residents still cling to the idea that maybe, just maybe, the government, NGOs, or a benevolent cosmic force might one day fulfill their promise to fix the roads. Or, who knows? Maybe they’ll just wait for someone to invent teleportation.

Until then, residents will continue their daily commute—either by foot, boat, or sheer willpower—because hope, like the roads, remains an uneven and bumpy journey.