Sierra Leone view by Diego milito

Diego Milito the Elite Bike Rider – Today at Mountain Cut

They call me Diego Milito, the elite bike rider, because I know every corner of Freetown on two wheels. But today, even elite riders get caught.

This morning at Mountain Cut, traffic was heavy. A police officer had just drawn a white line across the road with a stone. My front tyre crossed it by half a foot while I was dodging a keke. The officer switched off my okada.

“Park! You crossed the line!” he shouted. Before I could explain, he took my keys, jumped on my okada, and told me, “Walk to Central Station if you want your bike.”

I trekked down to the station. My shirt was soaked with sweat by the time I reached the counter.

“Officer, good afternoon. My okada was brought here from Mountain Cut. I’m here to pay my fine,” I said, trying to stay respectful.

The officer behind the desk didn’t even raise his head. He just pointed to the door. “Go outside. Don’t stand here.”

“Sir, but my okada is inside the compound. I came to pay so I can collect it.”

He slammed his hand on the desk. “Last warning. If you don’t go out now, I will arrest you and charge you to court. Outside!”

So I stood at the gate with three other riders, watching people go in and out. One hour later, I saw a sergeant come out, and I explained my problem to him and pleaded with him to help me get my okada. He said, okay I will help you. So the sergeant helped me — whom I didn't know — a few minutes later, I was called to go and take my okada. I went and pushed my bike out of the yard.

*Now my question is: If my okada was not taken to the police station, what did I have to do at the station?*

Absolutely nothing. I wouldn’t have gone there at all.

And that’s the real problem I'm talking about. Nobody wakes up and says “Let me go waste time at the police station today.” We go because our bike is inside, our brother is detained, or we need a police report. Same thing at the hospital — you don’t go to Connaught to sightsee. You go because somebody is sick, or you need to pay for drugs.

If somebody doesn’t have anything to do in that office, he/she will not go there. Full stop.

The “go outside” culture in Salone offices doesn’t make sense. The first thing any worker should ask is, “How can I help you?” If you truly have no business there, then they can tell you to leave. But chasing people away before hearing them just creates more vexation, more delay, and more distrust.

Respect is small, but it matters. I came with money to pay my fine — that should make their job easier, not harder.

*By Diego Milito Elite Bike Rider!!!*

“Two Litres Too Small: A Bike Rider’s Afternoon at the Pump”
A true-life story from Freetown, April 30, 2026

I’m a proud Okada rider. My bike is not just metal and rubber to me — it’s my office, my market stall, my daily bread. If it moves, my family eats. If it stops, everything stops. So when my fuel gauge kissed the red line this afternoon, I knew I had to sort it out fast before my next passenger.

I rolled into the Leonco petrol station at Congo Cross. I had 70, new Leones folded tight in my pocket. That’s enough for two litres at today’s price. Two litres is enough to take me through the evening rush, enough to make the money I need to buy five litres tomorrow. That’s how we survive in this hustle — litre by litre, day by day.

I greeted the pump attendant with a smile. “Aunty, manage me two litres.”

She looked at me, then looked at my bike, then shook her head slowly. “Brother, sorry. Management *“say we no for sell less than five litres. Five litres na the last. If you nor get for five, we nor go sell.”*

I thought I didn’t hear her right. “Aunty, na two litres I want. I get the money for two.”

She sighed like someone who had said the same thing a hundred times today. *“Na the new rule. Since morning. Management say five litres and above. We go lose we job if we sell less.”*

I stood there with my helmet in my hand and 70, New Leones in my pocket. I had the money. I had the need. The station had the fuel. But the rule said my money was too small.

And right there, something cold settled in my chest. I started doing the math that no rider wants to do. If I leave here with no fuel, I’ll have to push this bike. Maybe the next station up the road will sell me two litres. But what if their management also said *“five litres only”?* Then I push again. And again. Until I’m pushing an empty bike all the way home to Central, with zero on the day.

How does that make sense? I’m not begging for credit. I’m not asking for dash. I have cash. But because I don’t have enough cash, I’m told to go away. The station would rather keep fuel in the ground than sell two litres to a man who needs to work.

I looked at the pump. I looked at the long queue of cars behind me — all buying 20, 30, 50 litres. I understood the business. Big sales mean less stress, less counting, faster turnover. But what about us? The keke drivers, the Okada riders, the generator owners who just need a little to get through the night? Are we not customers too?

I didn’t argue. Aunty didn’t make the rule. I just nodded, kicked my bike back to life with the last fumes in the tank, and rolled out. My plan was simple: try the next station. If they say no, I push. If I reach home with no passenger money, my daughter ask why there’s no rice tonight, and I’ll tell her “because two litres was too small.”

Lucky for me, the next station sold me two litres. No speech, no rule, just “70, New Leones? Here’s your fuel.” I rode off, but my mind stayed at that first station.

Here’s what I can’t stop thinking: Who loses when a rule like that is made?
The station lost my 70, New Leones today. They’ll lose another 70, New Leones from the next rider, and the next. Small money is still money. Two litres from ten riders is twenty litres — that’s business too.

And I almost lost my whole day’s work. If I hadn’t found fuel, I would have lost every passenger, every 5, New Leones, every cup of rice that keeps my house standing. All because I was “too small” to buy.

That's why *Dr, Ibrahim Bangura* the next flagbearer of the might A P C party and the next president of the Republic of Sierra leone talk about “Heal, Unite, and Build” in this country. healing also means policies that don’t punish the man with little. Uniting means understanding that the Okada rider’s two litres keeps the city moving just like the SUV’s full tank. Building means making room for everybody’s money, not just the big money.

I’m just a bike rider. I don’t own the station. I don’t make the rules. But today I learned something: Sometimes the person with money in hand can still be sent away empty. And when that happens, it’s not just the bike that gets pushed — it’s the whole idea of fairness.

Tomorrow I’ll go back to work. I’ll buy my two litres where they respect it. But I hope that woman at the pump tells her manager this story. Tell them that the smallest customers are still customers. And that in this Salone we’re trying to build, no one should have to push their hustle home just because their money was “too small.”

Because two litres isn’t just fuel. Two litres is a day’s work. Two litres is a family fed. Two litres is dignity.

And dignity should never have a minimum purchase.

*By Diego Milito the Elite Bike Rider*
*Secretary General DIB National Bike Riders Movement*

🚨TEN REASONS NOT TO SACK TEN HAG:

1. Trophy Triumph: FA Cup victory shows Ten Hag's ability to lead the team to success in high-stakes matches.

2. European Qualification: The FA Cup win secured a spot in the Europa League, showcasing Ten Hag's strategic success.

3. Player Development: Ten Hag has a knack for nurturing young talent, with players like Alejandro Garnacho and Kobbie Mainoo shining in the FA Cup final.

4. Resilience and Belief: The team's character, belief, and resilience were evident in their historic 4-3 win over Liverpool in the FA Cup.

5. Positive Fan Support: Fans have rallied behind Ten Hag, expressing their support and desire for him to remain at the club.

6. Stability in Leadership: Ten Hag provides much-needed stability, allowing for long-term planning and development.

7. Ups and Downs: Despite the ups and downs, Ten Hag has shown a commitment to winning trophies and developing the team.

8. Defiant Spirit: Ten Hag has hit back at criticism, standing firm in the face of adversity.

9. Team Development: Under Ten Hag, the team has reached 3 finals in two seasons, showcasing a clear upward trajectory.

10. Fighting Spirit: The team's performance in the FA Cup final, not allowing the best team in Europe a SNIFF at goal, is a testament to the fighting spirit Ten Hag has instilled in the squad.