“Dry Yai Koba Shame” Syndrome: Defending the Indefensible

Dry Yai Koba Shame Syndrome: Defending the Indefensible

By Joseph Fitzgerald Kamara (JFK)

In Sierra Leone’s vocabulary, few phrases capture a particular brand of moral decadence as vividly as the “Dry Yai Koba Shame Syndrome.” It is the art of shamelessly defending the indefensible. Especially when cocaine trafficking allegations are involved.

This phrase has gained traction because some members, and I repeat, some members of the SLPP led government have developed a peculiar psychological penchant for distorting reality. No matter how damning the evidence. No matter how credible the international reports linking senior figures to drug deals. Party faithfuls within the government rally with brazen, reflexive defense, deaf to logic, blind to ethics, and numb to public health.

“Dry Yai Koba Shame” describes the toxic marriage between power, propaganda, deceit, and impunity. “Dry Yai” is a potent mixture of callousness and lack of empathy. “Koba Shame” is a hardened, unrepentant attitude. Together, they form a defense tool that intoxicates loyalists and poisons the nation’s integrity.

This syndrome manifests itself in different forms.

First, deflection. Instead of answering cocaine allegations, defenders pivot to party loyalty or dig up past grievances. Ask about drugs, and they will talk about “we will deliver”. Ask about evidence, and they will talk about fake journalism.

Second, life is normal. Defenders of the drug trade attempt to paint serious narcotics trafficking as a minor infraction, or a politically motivated lie. A cocaine shipment? They call it palm oil. Another arrest? They label cocaine as cacao. In their world, business is normal. In our world, madness is wearing a suit.

Most striking is the total absence of moral outrage. The more serious the allegation, the louder and more aggressive the defense. As if volume can substitute for virtue. They sound like vuvuzelas, drowning out every whistleblower, every truth teller, and every grieving mother.

For ordinary Sierra Leoneans like my humble self, who have watched cocaine and other drugs ravage our youth, destroy our neighborhoods, and corrupt our future, this syndrome is more than a political embarrassment. It is a betrayal. A slap in the face. A spit on the grave of every young person lost to addiction.

The question is not whether this syndrome exists, but, how long will this menace continue to persist in our society.

Let us learn to be honest with ourselves, love country above party, and speak truth to power.