The underlying message being pushed is a narrow, conservative ideology: Be, heterosexual, traditional. Reject feminism. Reject LGBTQ rights. Photo: Antonio Bronic/Reuters
On 26 and 27 June, the Bintumani International Conference Centre in Freetown hosted a gathering under the banner of “strengthening families”. Organised by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS) and the office of the first lady of Sierra Leone, it featured politicians, religious leaders, traditional authorities and civil society organisations. There were gospel choirs, video montages and heartfelt speeches celebrating African values and national resilience.
On the surface, it was a celebration of unity. Beneath it, though, lay a strategic campaign by a US-based religious organisation to embed a specific brand of conservative American theology into African cultural narratives. The soft language of empowerment masked an ideological demand.
This isn’t new. In 2024, LDS held a similar conference in Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire. Earlier events in Ghana and Nigeria from 2019 to 2023 were followed by increased anti-LGBTQ sentiment and backlash against comprehensive sexual education.
Preaching power through local mouthpieces
What made the Freetown event especially effective was its reliance on local voices to legitimise its message. From the opening to to the closing prayer, the conference amplified a Mormon worldview through African public figures
On day 1, LDS Elder Kenneth Pambu opened with inclusive-sounding language: “Every child deserves to grow up in a safe and caring home.” But his definition of the ideal family quickly narrowed: a heterosexual, nuclear unit rooted in divine order, guided by strict gender roles.
Later, a speaker warned, “The digital world is teaching our children values we do not agree with.” The message was clear. Modernity equals danger. Tradition, as defined by the Mormons, equals safety.
Catholic Archbishop Edward Tamba Charles echoed rhetoric from the 2019 Ghana conference, warning of a curriculum that “sexualises” students and condemning foreign aid tied to LGBTQ rights. The crowd cheered.
An Islamic leader added, “Family is a combination between a male and a female. There is no he, she or she-he.” Cloaked in cultural pride, this rhetoric erased all Sierra Leoneans outside the sexual or gender binary.
It’s a recurring pattern. One group of wealthy white outsiders empowers local conservatives to criticise another group of white outsiders for allegedly corrupting African values. The irony is met not with resistance but with applause.
First lady Fatima Maada Bio, a popular figure praised for her advocacy for women and girls, framed the event as a national imperative. “This partnership is not just about religion. It’s about restoring hope, dignity and values.” Her announcement of a new safe house for survivors of gender-based violence, an LDS–first lady collaboration, was met with thunderous applause.
Such a resource is vital. Yet its framing raised questions. Will women have to accept Mormon doctrine to access lifesaving services? Will only certain women — married, respectable, God-fearing — be welcomed?
A digital Trojan horse
The LDS church is strategic in Africa. It does not lead with doctrine. It leads with scholarships, media, partnerships and food drives. From glossy brochures to high-definition testimonials, it appears tech-savvy and community-minded.
But beneath the polish is a clear ideology. Be faithful, obedient, heterosexual, traditional. Reject feminism. Reject LGBTQ rights. Reject sex education and intellectual inquiry. Focus on your family and stay quiet about policy shifts and corruption.
The LDS church doesn’t attack activism outright. It elevates modesty, family and tradition as cultural revival. To question this is framed as rejecting your roots.
This is not overt coercion. It is something more insidious — a foreign ideology dressed in local attire. An imported theology, marketed as a return to African values.
The conference didn’t just celebrate families. It defined them. And, in doing so, it excluded structures and identities that don’t fit LDS or conservative norms.
The real cost of moral policing
Let’s be clear. This is not an argument against faith. Religion remains a cornerstone of African life. It can uplift, protect and unify. But when faith becomes a vessel for narrow definitions of womanhood, family and morality, it ceases to be spiritual. It becomes political. And when it defines who is worthy of protection, who is moral and who is “truly African”, it becomes a neocolonial tool of division.
This should concern all of us. The danger of what we saw at the Freetown conference lies not only in what’s said but in what’s omitted: the single mother, the blended family, the outspoken or non-conformist child. When these realities are erased, the LDS church isn’t just shaping culture. It is scripting the future.
Who suffers when the future being built in our name doesn’t reflect us at all?
The next “strengthening families” conference is scheduled for Liberia in June 2026. If Freetown was any indication, our Liberian colleagues must luk insai dis tin ya so (examine something closely). Ask who is speaking to us. Who is speaking for us? And what harm will be caused by what is left unsaid?
Mina Bilkis is a feminist storyteller and digital rights researcher in Freetown, Sierra Leone. Famia Nkansa is a writer, editor and communications consultant.