Brima D Hina

No grave marker exists. No statue stands in his honor in the center of Freetown. In a city with a "Cotton Tree" that symbolizes the arrival of black settlers, there is no plaque for the man who taught those settlers how to speak to their neighbors. Brima D Hina is more than a keyword; it is a challenge. It asks us: How many architects of our reality have we forgotten because they worked not with swords or pens, but with ears and tongues?

If you visit Freetown today, ask a local elder, "We bin de tɔk bɔt Brima D Hina?" (Did we speak about Brima D Hina?). If they are quiet, listen. Because as Hina once said: "Na dat we no se, na dat de kil wi" (That which we do not know is what kills us). Do you have family records or oral stories about Brima D Hina? Archivists at the Sierra Leone National Railway Museum are currently compiling a biographical index. Contact them to help preserve this critical piece of Krio heritage. brima d hina

While not a household name like Sengbe Pieh (Joseph Cinqué) or Sir Samuel Lewis, Brima D Hina represents a critical archetype: the indigenous intellectual who bridged the gap between the liberated African communities, the Temne and Mende hinterlands, and the colonial administration. This article explores the historical context, linguistic legacy, and enduring mystery of Brima D Hina—a figure synonymous with the preservation of Krio identity. To understand Brima D Hina, we must first understand the world that created him. After the Abolition of the Slave Trade Act of 1807, the British Royal Navy established the West Africa Squadron, intercepting slaving vessels and depositing "recaptured" or "liberated" Africans in Sierra Leone. These individuals came from over 50 different ethnic groups, from Yoruba (Aku) to Igbo, from Ashanti to Hausa. No grave marker exists