How community-based advocacy against sexual and gender-based violence placed one young Sierra Leonean at risk, and what his story tells us about the people who carry this work.
Change in the fight against sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV) rarely starts in conference rooms. It starts in compounds, schoolyards and community centres, through patient conversations with young people, parents, teachers, traditional leaders and survivors. It depends on the people willing to have those conversations.
Abu T. Borbor was one of them.
A Commitment to Safer Communities
A graduate of the University of Makeni with a Bachelor of Science in Finance and Accounting, Abu could have taken a very different career path. Instead, he joined Rainbo Initiative as an Outreach Intern/Officer.
His work took him directly into communities to talk about what many people prefer to avoid: sexual violence, the rights of women and girls, harmful practices, and where survivors can find help. Through his outreach, he reached more than 1,000 people in Kuntorloh, in the east end of Freetown, and in Waterloo, on the outskirts of the capital.
It is work that asks people to question beliefs and practices that may have stood for generations. Resistance comes with that, and effective advocates learn to meet it with respect and persistence. It also means being present when someone quietly approaches afterwards and asks, “Where can I go for help?”
Abu’s work was largely accepted as part of a wider effort to make communities safer. Then the national mood shifted.
August 2022: A Country Under Strain
On 10 August 2022, protests over the rising cost of living turned violent in Freetown and other parts of Sierra Leone. Amnesty International reported that more than 20 protesters and bystanders and six police officers were killed, and documented allegations of excessive use of force by security forces. According to police figures, 515 people were arrested. Fear and suspicion spread.
In such moments, anyone seen as an activist, organiser or critic can find themselves viewed differently, whatever their actual work.
When the Perception Changed
After the events of August 2022, the climate changed, and so did the way some people saw Abu. According to him, elders and some individuals in communities where he had done outreach began to associate advocates like him with voices challenging the established order. He says he was labelled a “troublemaker,” and was later reported to the police, who, he says, then sought to arrest him.
The distinction matters. Advocacy against SGBV challenges harmful norms, but it is not partisan politics. Yet in a tense atmosphere, public education and community mobilisationcan be read through a political lens by those who disagree with the message or feel threatened by it. Work that once opened conversations, Abu says, became for some a reason to distrust him.
Going into Hiding
The threats he and other outspoken advocates received from individuals in communities where they had worked eventually grew serious enough that he feared for his safety. With the threats continuing and the police, he says, seeking to arrest him, he made the decision to go into hiding.
For someone whose identity and sense of purpose are tied to the communities he serves, withdrawing from them was never simple. It was a decision shaped by an increasingly unsafe environment rather than by choice. In hiding, he searched for a safe place where he could be protected.
The contrast is stark. A young professional who once travelled into communities to talk about safety, dignity and the rights of women and girls first had to hide from some of them.
“I was living in social isolation in Waterloo after being chased out by elders and religious leaders. They claimed I was setting a bad example for the children in the community. They alleged that I was allowing lesbian and gay people, and dangerous political activities, to take place in my business centre,” said Abu T. Borbor.
What His Story Tells Us
Abu’s story does not weaken the case for community-based SGBV prevention. It strengthens it. Rainbo Initiative’s approach rests on sustained engagement through awareness sessions, community dialogues, school-based activities and work with local leaders, and Abu was part of that work.
But his experience also points to something the sector does not always say aloud: frontline advocates can carry personal risk. Their impact is measured in the young person who learns that violence is not normal, and in the survivor, who discovers where to seek support. Sometimes it is also measured in the hard decision of an advocate to protect his own life.
A Reflection for the Sector
Abu’s journey raises questions that organisations, donors and partners should keep asking. How do we support and protect community-level advocates, especially young and junior staff? What safety planning, risk assessment and post-employment support exist for people whose visibility rises because of their work?
Those who do this work deserve to be seen not only for what they achieve, but for what they risk.
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