John Baimba Sesay: Sierra Leone Telegraph: 10 February 2026:
Today, I reflect on the life of the late Chernor Ojuku Sesay, a former colleague now resting in the world beyond, whose memory remains vivid among us.
Chernor who passed away six years ago, was one of the five of us who returned home after being recalled from diplomatic service in 2018. He had been based in Brussels, covering the Vatican as Press Attaché, while I served in China.
We enjoyed close and productive working ties as diplomats, but our bond deepened even more after our return home especially when he emerged as our lead voice in the collective struggle to secure our end-of-service benefits from government.
In that difficult period, Ojuku demonstrated one of his defining qualities: his commitment to fighting for the common good. It was an appalling and exhausting experience. I provided operational support; collating, printing, and submitting documents for most, if not all, of the recalled diplomats whenever government, through the Ministries of Foreign Affairs and Finance, requested them.
Ojuku, on the other hand, played the far more delicate diplomatic role: engaging relevant institutions, pushing persistently for our payments, smiling when restraint was required, even when anger would have been justified.
His journalistic instincts proved invaluable to us as attachés. I witnessed this firsthand. Together, we worked tirelessly to secure documentation for over 95 percent of the recalled diplomats. It demanded enormous time, energy, and personal resources.
Eventually, all that remained was to wait for confirmation that payments had been effected. Like the rest of us, Ojuku sought updates, but unlike most, he had trusted friends and reliable sources.
It was through one such source at the Ministry of Finance that he learned a shocking truth: attachés had been excluded. Payments were being processed for other diplomats, but not for us.
There was, astonishingly, no documentation for attachés including Ojuku and myself, who had served as the unofficial coordinators on the ground. It was deeply frustrating, and entirely unexpected, given the months of work we had invested. Once again, we returned to the drawing board and resumed the struggle, later joined by two other committed colleagues.
Ojuku was a fighter. At one point, he bluntly warned a Finance Ministry official that if our monies were not paid, “we go die lef den money ya with una.”
As fate would have it, only 50 percent of the payment was eventually made and then, he died, never to receive the balance in person.
That prolonged struggle brought my wife closer to Ojuku. We often gathered at my wife’s business place, heads bowed in frustration, discussing our plight. Our “formal meetings” took place in the shop, while my wife, from a small corner, would provoke us with pointed remarks.
At one critical moment, Ojuku personally called the country’s Financial Secretary to protest, firmly stating that what we were pursuing were our legitimate dues, not a favour from government.
Ojuku believed deeply in collective struggle and team results. He received suggestions from three individuals; two in government and one businessman we had approached for help, proposing that payments be made only to attachés present in Freetown. Ojuku rejected this outright. To him, accepting such a solution would amount to betraying colleagues stranded abroad. And so, we waited month after month.
Despite everything, Ojuku remained good-humoured, always finding ways to reduce tension and lift spirits. He constantly urged us to “remain optimistic.” He was a writer par excellence, much like our late senior colleague Sorie Sudan Sesay of blessed memory, who served as Press Attaché in the UK.
Ojuku excelled in Brussels, and within a few short years of dedicated service, he fully embraced and embodied the persona of a true diplomat.
His trip to Ghana marked the beginning of a long, painful journey of no return. Brussels was his first option, but fate led him instead to Accra according to God’s own plan.
As colleagues, we: Alusco, Mariama, and I gathered endlessly at his home, praying fervently and encouraging him to remain strong. By faith, we believed he would be healed. He, too, remained hopeful and assured us he would return home in good health. But God works in His own way.
Death is inescapable. To the faithful, it is an adventure; yet to mankind, it remains our vilest adversary even as it serves as a passage to our Maker. It is the final outcome of a long journey toward eternity. Still, one beautiful lesson remains: life is lived once, but when well lived, once is enough.
Our colleague lived his life well. Through his journalistic craft, he impacted society and stood firmly for justice and fairness. His passing left a profound void.
Continue to rest well and know that we will not forget how your journalistic instinct brought us collective strength and joy as colleagues. May that memory never fade.
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