For years, Mariama Kamara, a mother of three from Kamaranka Chiefdom in Bombali District, lived with a quiet burden familiar to thousands of Sierra Leoneans outside Freetown; justice was something distant, geographically, financially, and emotionally.
When a simmering land dispute in her family spiraled beyond the reach of the local magistrate court, her only option was to appeal in Freetown. The idea alone felt heavier than the case itself.
It meant leaving her children behind, closing her small stall in the market, borrowing money for transport, and embarking on a grueling 200-kilometer journey with no assurance that her case would even be heard.
She remembers the long, bone-shaking bus rides, the endless hours in cramped terminals, the nights spent on the cold floors of distant relatives’ homes, and the helplessness that came from waiting; waiting on the system, waiting for her name to be called, waiting for someone in authority to acknowledge that her life mattered.
Many of her neighbours simply gave up along the way. They chose peace over justice, fatigue over truth.
Then, on 27 November 2025, something extraordinary happened; something that would alter the way Mariama, and an entire region, understood justice.
Sierra Leone’s Chief Justice, Hon. Komba Kamanda, launched the first-ever Court of Appeal sitting outside the capital.
In a historic ceremony in Makeni City, a full panel of appellate judges took their seats in the heart of the Northern Province.
For the first time in the country’s history, people living in Bombali, Tonkolili, Kambia, and surrounding districts could seek appellate justice without travelling to Freetown.
Makeni, long considered a regional hub, suddenly became a beacon of judicial accessibility.
Local leaders, judges, lawyers, and ordinary residents filled the courtroom that day, their voices rising in a rare chorus of optimism.
Supreme Court Judge, Justice Alusine Sesay, spoke with a clarity that resonated deeply.
This new provincial court, he said, was not just an administrative convenience, it was the practical expression of Chief Justice Kamanda’s vision; justice that is accessible, equitable, and rooted in the everyday lives of Sierra Leoneans.
“People should not have to travel hundreds of kilometers to have their voices heard. Justice must come closer to the people,” he declared.
For communities that had long been on the margins of the judicial system, his words felt like an embrace.
Paramount Chief Kandeh Bangura Gbetgbo III of Kamaranka Chiefdom described the move as a liberation for rural families who had suffered silently for years.
For Mariama, the shift was deeply personal. When she walked into the Makeni Court of Appeal for the first time, it felt as though a weight she had carried for years had finally slipped from her shoulders.
“I can now follow my case myself. I no longer have to choose between my family and my rights. Justice has finally come home,” she said softly.
Legal scholars were quick to underscore the broader implications.
University lecture Sallieu Kamara Esq noted that when people can access courts without suffering financial ruin or social disruption, it strengthens communities from within.
“It cultivates trust, encourages lawful dispute resolution, and reinforces the belief that institutions exist to serve the people, not the privileged few.”
Lawyers practicing in the north echoed this, observing that clients now come prepared, attend hearings on time, and participate fully, knowing the system is finally within reach.
Makeni’s new Court of Appeal did not emerge in isolation. It is the latest milestone in an ambitious wave of reforms under Chief Justice Kamanda.
Yet, even as the celebrations echoed across Bombali District, the path forward remained layered with challenges.
Court infrastructure in the provinces is still uneven. Staffing gaps persist. Legal aid remains thin, especially for women, the elderly, and other vulnerable groups who often lack resources to navigate formal systems.
Social barriers – fear, stigma, and the weight of tradition – continue to hold many back. Development partners such as UNDP and UNICEF have played pivotal roles, funding infrastructure upgrades, training personnel, and supporting community legal education programs that help bridge these gaps. But the work is ongoing.
Still, no one can deny the profound human impact of the reforms. People who once felt invisible now see themselves reflected in the architecture of justice.
Women like Mariama no longer hover on the periphery of their own cases. Men who once gave up on their appeals now sit in courtrooms in their own districts, hearing their names called without needing to cross provinces.
For Mariama, the journey to Makeni is now a simple one, often completed within an hour. She attends hearings without missing a day’s work. She returns home in time to cook for her children. She no longer worries about sleeping in unfamiliar places or borrowing money for transport.
For the first time in generations, ordinary Sierra Leoneans in the Northern Province can say with confidence that the law is not a distant idea. It lives beside them, speaks to them, and stands ready to hear their grievances.
In that profound shift lies the quiet triumph of a nation determined to bring justice home.
