There are times when politics and ritual intersect in a way that feels larger than any campaign speech or manifesto. For Dr. Ibrahim Bangura, the past few months have been filled with such moments — ceremonies and symbols, ancestral affirmation and popular acclaim — all occurring in a sequence his supporters interpret as destiny.
From sacred rites in the capital to coronations in the south and rain-soaked solidarity in the north, ceremony, weather, and the unmistakable presence of his people have all played a role in shaping his rise.
It began in April in Freetown’s Fourah Bay community, where traditional custodians adorned Dr. Bangura’s head with sacred emblems.
That ritual, which was heavy on the language of lineage and community sanction, was perceived by many as the voice of approval from the ancestors. For those who follow such traditions, the act was a formal endorsement, an ancestral imprimatur on a son who has kept his homeland in his heart. Months later, on August 22, another symbolically charged event occurred in Bo, Southern Sierra Leone.
The venue, named Coronation Field, appeared to foreshadow the proceedings. Bangura stood there, amid the solemnity of ritual and the choreography of pageantry, where many believed the ground had already been prepared long before he arrived. For supporters, the setting confirmed what the ritual in Fourah Bay had hinted at: a longer arc of recognition was bending toward him.
Two days after Bo, in Lunsar, the heavens provided their own commentary. As Dr. Bangura took the stage, rain began to fall—not the kind that chases crowds into cars and under canopies, but a sudden, unifying shower that left him and those around him soaked but unbowed. Rather than retreat, he stood shoulder to shoulder with his supporters, sharing their wetness and determination. For many, the rain was a sign of blessing, a natural benediction that connected the political and the spiritual.
Finally, he returned home to Mambolo, the land of his forefathers and where he began. There, political heavyweights joined forces with local custodians to hand him a staff of authority, a tangible transfer of symbolic power backed up by lineage and community trust. As the ceremony neared its conclusion, a rainbow appeared in the sky, an image with religious and poetic resonances that are difficult to ignore. For those who see more than coincidence, the staff and rainbow formed an emphatic punctuation mark: a natural confirmation of a people’s ritual.
However, Bangura has been careful not to base his message solely on such symbolism. In Mambolo, he spoke not only as a ritualist, but also as a son of the soil who remembers his origins. He discussed family and roots, as well as the connection between personal biography and national service. “I love my family and believe in them. “Wherever you are, never forget your family; always stand by them, always with them,” he told the audience, a pledge he said would translate into loyalty to his native Kambia.
He used the occasion to pay tribute to figures whose tenure had an impact on the region. Former President Ernest Bai Koroma, the patriarch of the All People’s Congress, was warmly recognised for his service to both party and nation. Bangura pointed to the smooth road that led his convoy into Mambolo, reminding the audience that it had been built during President Koroma’s administration. He also praised Ambassador Alimamy “Petito” Koroma, who, as Minister of Works and Infrastructure, oversaw that project and others. Bangura spoke of Petito with disarming candour, saying, “One thing about Petito, no matter how strong one thinks they are, no politician in Kambia can beat him. It’s better to cajole and collaborate with him than to challenge him.” The remark was part humour, part recognition of local political realities, and completely respectful of the local heavyweight’s influence.
Perhaps the most telling political gesture of the day was Bangura’s treatment of a rival. Far from disparaging Honourable Bai Mahmoud Bangura, himself a candidate for the APC flagbearer position, Dr. Bangura referred to him as a brother rather than an adversary. “We are competing for the leadership of our party, but that does not make us enemies,” he stated, adding, “He is my brother from Mambolo. I believe that whoever wins will be supported by the others, because Kambia will eventually gain power.” The line was politically astute and personally generous: it portrayed competition as healthy while emphasising unity and collective purpose over animosity. In a political culture where disagreements can become heated, his public embrace of a rival served as an appeal for magnanimity and unity.
Despite its crowns and rainbows, the spectacle ultimately belongs to the people — particularly women. If the symbology of traditional rites and celestial signs added a mythic dimension to the story, the movement that propelled Bangura forward has its roots in everyday Sierra Leonean life, with women serving as its backbone. Women have mobilised, filled the streets, and lifted the songs that transformed convoys into processions of hope, whether they are market traders, mothers, students, professionals, young or old. Bangura supporters argue that when women lead, the nation follows.
From Bo to Lunsar to Mambolo, the momentum remained strong. Convoys drove through towns and countryside, horns blaring and voices rising, as thousands gathered to greet a son of the soil. Many attendees have described these events as communal recommitments rather than campaign stops: pilgrimages where citizens can measure the distance between where they are and where they want to go.
Bangura delivered a clear message to delegates, party members, and fellow aspirants. He suggested that the contest should not be reduced to internal conflict; the true adversary is misrule and the economic struggles that have burdened ordinary people. United behind leadership that combines tradition and popular legitimacy — a leader affirmed by elders, embraced by the grassroots, and celebrated under open skies — his supporters believe victory is not only possible, but inevitable.
Whether the rites and rain are interpreted as prophecy or powerful political theatre, the recent sequence of events in Dr. Ibrahim Bangura’s campaign has been unmistakably symbolic. A crown, a coronation field, blessing showers, an authoritative staff, and a rainbow: these elements combine to form a narrative that his supporters will use in the coming months. For the time being, the drums of victory can be heard in Mambolo and elsewhere, loud and insistent, waiting for the next beat.
