In Sierra Leone, the interplay between Muslims and Christians is something truly remarkable. It’s woven into the daily rhythms of life, something you notice even more when you live and work here. Unlike in many parts of the world where religion can be a source of division, Sierra Leone offers a different narrative—a story of harmony and mutual respect.

One of the most beautiful and telling practices here is how meetings begin. No matter the context—whether it’s a casual gathering, a work meeting, or even an official event—the same pattern unfolds. First, a Christian prayer is said, followed by a Muslim prayer. It’s not forced or obligatory; it’s just the way things are done. Both prayers are offered with reverence, and the beauty lies in the fact that everyone, no matter their faith, stands quietly in respect for both.

I’ve seen this time and time again, and each time, it strikes me. There is no rush to finish the “other” prayer, no discomfort, no division—just a natural, gracious acceptance that both traditions are welcome. It’s a small, daily gesture that speaks volumes about the unity that exists here.

In a country where the scars of a brutal civil war are still healing, this peaceful coexistence is something to be admired. Sierra Leone’s people, both Muslim and Christian, have chosen unity over division, respect over intolerance. The shared struggles and shared joys of rebuilding a nation have forged bonds that transcend religious differences.

This harmony doesn’t mean that every belief is the same or that differences don’t exist. But what it does mean is that those differences are not seen as obstacles to peace. Instead, they are embraced as part of the diverse fabric that makes up this country. The faiths coexist not just in public spaces or meetings but in friendships, families, and communities.

Sierra Leone reminds me of the power of respect. That harmony isn’t about agreeing on everything; it’s about making space for one another, for different ways of worshiping, believing, and living. Each prayer, each pause in meetings, is a testament to the unity found in diversity—a lesson I think the rest of the world could learn from.

If you ever visit, you’ll see it too—the way faith can be a bridge, not a barrier, when people choose to live in understanding.