Opinion: The Weaponization of “Kush” — When Fighting Drugs Becomes Fighting Dissent

Opinion: The Weaponization of “Kush” — When Fighting Drugs Becomes Fighting Dissent

By Michael Sesay

In Sierra Leone, the word “kush” no longer refers solely to a dangerous synthetic drug that’s destroying the lives of young people. It has also become a political weapon—one used not only to tackle crime but, alarmingly, to discredit, intimidate, and silence opposition voices.

Two recent cases illustrate this chilling trend: Abubakarr “Boxx” Konteh, a vocal opposition figure, and Natasha Beckley, a popular musician turned APC politician, have both found themselves accused of being linked to kush trafficking soon after they made political moves critical of the ruling SLPP government.

In March 2024, Konteh was arrested in Guinea in a joint operation coordinated with Sierra Leone’s authorities. The charges? Alleged ties to the November 2023 coup attempt—and an alleged link to kush distribution. Yet, months later, no substantial evidence has been made public. No fair trial. Just lingering suspicion.

Fast forward to October 2025: Natasha Beckley declares her intent to run for Vice Chair in Port Loko under the APC. Just days later, a warrant is issued for her arrest in connection to a kush factory allegedly housed in a property linked to her. Again—zero public evidence, no court ruling, but headlines loud enough to damage reputations.

Is this coincidence or calculated?

The pattern is impossible to ignore. Opposition figures raise their heads—and accusations swiftly follow. The charges are often vague, and the process opaque. In a democracy, allegations must be followed by transparent investigations and credible evidence—not political noise and smear campaigns.

Let’s be clear: the fight against kush is necessary. This drug is ruining lives, destroying families, and crippling our youth. But weaponizing that fight to persecute political opponents is not only unethical—it’s dangerous. It delegitimizes the drug war, turns justice into politics, and breeds public cynicism.

Today, political activism in Sierra Leone comes with a risk: be too visible, too vocal, too influential—and you may be branded a criminal. It doesn’t matter if you’re a youth leader, a businessperson, a musician, or a returnee from the diaspora. If you challenge the status quo, you’re a threat. And that threat must be neutralized—sometimes with a kush accusation.

This strategy undermines everything we claim to stand for as a democracy. It weakens the rule of law. It silences legitimate dissent. And it tells young Sierra Leoneans watching from the sidelines that politics is a dirty game best avoided. That’s a tragedy in a country that so desperately needs bold, credible, and fresh leadership.

We cannot fight crime by committing injustice. We cannot claim to build democracy by muzzling opposition.

It’s time for civil society, the media, religious leaders, and the international community to speak up. The rule of law must be restored. Opposition voices must be protected. And the government must stop using the fight against kush as a convenient excuse to fight its political rivals.

Because when justice is bent to serve power, we all lose.