Top: Korninga wants the FDA to supervise the review of a logging contract between it and Coveiyala Investment Enterprise. The DayLight/James Giahyue
By Emmanuel Sherman
KORNINGA CHIEFDOM – A Community forest in Gbarpolu County is demanding a review of its contract with a logging company, following five years of stalemate, contrasting with the celebrations that greeted the deal.
Korninga ‘A’ Community Forest and Coveiyala Investment Enterprise signed the 15-year contract in 2019 after the Forestry Development Authority (FDA) certified the community. Korninga leased 48,296 hectares of forest land to Coveiyala for logging purposes. However, the parties have not reviewed the contract as required by law.
“We are seeking renegotiation,” says Emery Ciapha, Korninga’s chief officer. “Up to the present, Coveiyala has failed to come and sit with the people of Korninga Community for the review.”
Legal battle
Coveiyala has had an internal conflict for over three years and counting, which has stalled the Korninga contract. In 2022, Lu Li, a Chinese national with 90 percent shares, and Anthony Urey, his Liberian partner and the company’s president, with the remaining shares, got into a fierce legal battle. It led the Commercial Court in Monrovia to halt the company’s operations.
The court lifted the injunction following an agreement between Messrs. Lu and Urey earlier this year. After that, Coveiyala began to focus on the contract’s renewal, with a series of communication exchanges with locals in May.
In an October letter, Urey suggested that the review be done in early November and the signing on the 15th of that month.
But Ciapha rejected his suggestion because Urey had allegedly singlehandedly made the decision. “It was not signed or attested. It is not an individual that the Korninga Authorized Community Forest is working with. We are working with an entity called Coveiyala, [not with Mr. Urey as an individual],” Ciapha tells The DayLight in a phone interview.
Urey refutes Ciapha’s comments, saying he often writes on behalf of Coveiyala. He also argues that Korninga did not raise any contention with him when he sent the letter.
“If it were so, they should have written me back and informed me and say, ‘Mr. Urey, it should be this way or that way,’” says Urey via phone. “If there was any document, definitely, I was going respond to it. I was going to say, “Ok, I accept it,’ and the three parties could sign it.”
Amid the disagreement, Korninga has asked the FDA to review the contract, Coveiyala’s debts, and the company’s failure to implement contractual projects.
Coveiyala owed the community US$102,304.75 in land rental, US$30,000 in scholarship fees, and unspecified harvesting and other fees, based on the contract, the community and documents.
Regarding projects, Coveiyala did not build health facilities and a wood science college as promised. It built two latrines but Korninga rejected them based on the construction materials.
“None of the promises made were actualized by the company during the five years the company has operated in the community. Based on this, we are calling for an immediate review of the agreement,” Korninga’s letter to the FDA read.
It is unclear how much the Coveiyala owes locals for harvesting. However, before the lawsuit, the company left many logs in the forest and a log yard at Po River outside Monrovia.
Also, in August, Coveiyala sold over 237 cubic meters of logs to Kris Veneer Industries of Buchanan, Grand Bassa County, FDA records show.
Saye Messah, the FDA’s media and communication consultant, did not respond to queries for over a month. However, in a June letter, the FDA urged Korninga to work with the company to find a suitable time to conduct the review.
“Management highly considers your concerns regarding the company’s alleged failure to abide by terms in the contract…. calling for review is by law as stipulated,” the FDA letter reads.
Internal conflicts
Besides the debt and abandoned logs, Korninga’s contract with Coveiyala has been marred by community-based corruption. In early 2022, three members of the community leadership were jailed for allegedly misusing US$76,000. The three men included Johnson Flomo, Austin Kamara, and Dennis Flomo, chief officer, Korninga’s executive committee’s chairman and co-chairman, respectively.
They were immediately suspended after an FDA inquest and the community’s account was frozen. As a result, an interim body was set up to manage the community forest for over two years.
The head of the interim body, Cephas says Coveiyala has to account for the three years it operated the forest.
“Failure to implement those plights would mean termination or cancellation of the agreement.”
This story was a production of the Community of Forest and Environmental Journalists of Liberia (CoFEJ).
Top: Joseph Toe, a Bao Chico worker displays his injured fingers to our reporter. The Daylight /Harry Browne
By Emmanuel Sherman
BARNERSVILLE, Montserrado – Joseph Toe 35, was happy when he started work with Bao Chico in Gbarpolu in February.
Toe was assigned to an iron ore plant, with his job to prevent unwanted rocks from entering the machine.
But on May 4, barely three months at the Bao Chico Resources Liberia Limited, Toe sustained injuries to two fingers in an accident. He had been lecturing and gesturing to a friend while eating when his left hand slipped into an air compressor machine. The air compressor, an automatic machine used in welding, cut portions of his thumb and his ring finger.
After the accident, Toe was first taken to John F. Kennedy Medical Center in Monrovia for two days and later to Emirates Hospital in Bopolu.
Emirates recommended in the presence of county authorities that Toe should continue with full treatment at JFK Hospital due to his condition. But the Bao Chico management took him to another clinic instead.
Toe insisted that he should be treated at JFK in line with the recommendation and not at another clinic.
‘They dashed me’
Bao Chico refused on the ground they were paying the money, so they would carry him anywhere they felt.
“I said no. They dashed me and went about their business. They did not know how I was eating,” Toe told The DayLight at his temporary home in Barnesville.
Toe then called the police. The police invited Jack Wang, Bao Chico’s site manager, but he refused. So, the police came to the Chinese clinic arrested, handcuffed, placed him on a motorcycle taxi and took him to the police depot in the ELWA community.
However, the case was withdrawn and settled outside of the police, according to Jusu Sumo, the labor commissioner of Gbarpolu County, who presided over Toe’s case. He was recalled after the case as part of a routine reshuffle.
“There is a need for the company to come and settle me to help my family,” Toe said. “You can look at my fingers, I am traumatized. I am not normal like again like before.”
Toe has received US$3,000 as injury benefit as required under the Decent Work Act, Sumo said, which Toe confirmed.
“As far as we are concerned, the issue with Toe has been settled,” said George Mitchell, a Bao Chico spokesman.
This is the third major injury at Bao Chico The DayLight has reported due to the company’s unsafe working environment. Earlier this year, Augustine David, a driver lost his index finger when a steel rod crushed it. Momo Kamara a machine assistant, lost his left, small finger in a machine accident.
There have been other injuries and incidents. Anthony Jackson, a welder, was injured on his left foot because he was not wearing proper footgear. Jedrome Baomah got injured after a hot welding particle passed through the hole of the goggles he was hearing and entered his right eye. Harris Kollie, a driller, sustained injuries on his neck and stomach after being beaten by Mr. Wang.
Perhaps, the most infamous victim is Zoe Freeman, a 50-plus woman who fainted during one of Bao Chico’s explosion exercises.
The DayLight investigation found Bao Chico did not draw up its workplace regulations for approval by the Ministry of Mines and Energy as required by law.
There is no record that Bao Chico reported these injuries to the ministry, another violation of the law. The procedures are intended to secure the safety, health and welfare of employees and other persons at work.
“It is shocking to see a multi-million-dollar company for three years without employing a single safety officer who will teach safety rules to workers, said Sampson Lamah, the spokesperson of the affected communities in Gbarpolu County. Bao Chico only provides a helmet, reflective vest, and light gloves, Lamah said. There are no safety boots or other gear for mineworkers.
Bao Chico, a Chinese-owned steel company, and the Liberian government signed a 25-year agreement to mine iron ore in 2022. The agreement covers 87.4 kilometers, stretching from Bopulu in Gbarpolu to Suehn Mecca in Bomi.
The United States Embassy provided funding for this story. The DayLight maintained editorial independence over the story’s content.
Top: Bao Chico signed a 25-year mining agreement with the Liberian government in 2022 to mine iron ore in Bomi and Gbarpolu County. The DayLight/Derick Snyder
By Esau J. Farr
COMPOUND-SU JUNCTION, GbarpoluCounty – Last August, Augustine David, a driver of Bao Chico, was ordered to separate culverts for bridge construction in the area without protective gears. A steel rod he was using slipped and crushed the right index finger.
David was taken to the JFK Medical Center in Monrovia that day in August last year. He spent some days at JFK and two months to recover at the Bethesda Medical Center on Somalia Drive outside Monrovia.
“I am traumatized because I was [not] born crippled but I am now crippled,” David said as he held up his palm with the severed finger at Compound-Su Junction.
David is one of several workers at Bao Chico Resources Liberia Limited who have sustained lifetime injuries due to the Chinese firm’s unsafe working environment.
Owned by Zhan Zhen, a giant steel company in China, Bao Chico Resources Liberia Limited signed a 25-year agreement with Liberia in 2022 to mine iron ore, covering 87.4 square kilometers in Bopolu and Suehn Mecca Districts of Gbarpolu and Bomi Counties, respectively.
Its legislation was marred by controversy and its activities marred by protests ever since. Even the Liberian Senate has expressed concern over heightening insecurity relating to working conditions at the concession.
‘I felt bad’
David received US$500 for the loss of his finger from Bao Chico, 100 times his daily rate, in line with the Decent Work Act.
But Bao Chico has not employed David, flouting a memorandum of understanding (MoU) they signed. The document, seen by The DayLight, requires the company to employ him for five years after his recovery. However, five months after his full recovery, he remains a contractor.
“I have [repeatedly protested] and complained to the Labor Commissioner but all in vain,” David said. “Now, I am deciding to hire a lawyer [to plead my case].”
Like David, Momo Kromah of Baabu-Ta also got injured in late June last year after a Bao Chico machine cut off his left little finger.
Kromah worked as a machine assistant to a Chinese worker at Bao Chico. He alleges his Chinese workmate, who had earlier made two similar mistakes that week, caused the accident.
But unlike David, Kromah claims he received no injury benefits but, like David, has also not been employed.
“I felt bad at the time. It hurts [for] a family man to be working and get injured on the job,” Kromah said in a January interview. “I want for labor to [plead] for me so that I can go back to the job and be employed, according to my career.”
Jusu Sumo, Gbarpolu’s Labor Commissioner, knows of the injuries at Bao Chico and enforces the payment of workers’ benefits.
“When it comes to Augustine David’s issue, the management of Bao Chico is saying that they have their bosses that need to come so that their official employment letter can be prepared…,” Sumo said.
Sumo refuted Kromah’s allegation that Bao Chico did not pay him his injury benefits. He said the injured man was still a contractor with the company. He, however, attributed problems with workers’ benefits because of Bao Chico’s lack of a human resource officer.
Kromah’s activities appeared to support Sumo’s comments and contradict Kromah’s assertions three months ago. Kromah sat in a pickup truck with Chinese miners headed to a Bao Chico mine near Compound-Su. He evaded several attempts for a second interview.
Anthony Jackson’s injury was not as severe as David’s and Kromah’s but was bad enough to scar his left foot. A welder with Bao Chico, Jackson sustained the injury after a welding fume melted an improper footgear he wore, suffering a burn to his left foot.
Jackson told The DayLight Bao Chico gave him US$20 for almost four days of work lost because of the January 8 injury although he was being paid US$10 daily.
His ex-workmate Jedrome Biomah, sustained an eye injury due to a damaged goggle. A welding particle passed through the hole in the goggles and fell onto his eye, nearly blinding it.
Boimah, a former welder assistant, said he informed the company about his injury but was downplayed for about a month.
“So, when I was called to sign for my pay, I told them that I could not see anything and that’s how I got their attention,” Boimah told The DayLight.
Boimah took treatment at the JFK for six months, according to hospital documents seen by The DayLight. He alleges that he did not complete the full treatment due to Bao Chico’s failure to foot the bill. He was later dismissed over an alleged fuel theft.
Harris Kollie, a 26-year-old driller, sustained an injury to his neck and stomach. However, his aggressor was not a culvert, a machine, or welding particles. Kollie’s aggressor was a Chinese national.
On January 24, he quarreled with the Chinese man, which turned quickly to insults and then blows. Kollie sustained injuries to his neck and stomach in the ordeal.
A doctor at the Emirates Hospital in Bopolu gave Kollie a prescription, from which he bought medicines that were administered at home.
Bao Chico apologized to residents for the incident, according to James Scott, an elder at Compound-Su Junction. However, residents want the Chinese man who beat Kollie out of the community.
‘Relocate us’
Amid workers’ injuries, residents endure Bao Chico’s noise pollution. Everyone The DayLight interviewed had a story from the roaring sound of explosion and rain of rock particles from the nearby mines.
Perhaps, the most infamous victim is Zoe Freeman. A 50-something-year-old woman, Freeman fell off during one of the company’s explosion exercises and was rushed to the Emirates Hospital in Bopolu. Reporters confirmed that information with a healthcare worker who helped care for her.
“I spent two days in the hospital. I didn’t have a sign of hypotension but doctors said it was shock,” Freeman recalled.
But Freeman’s experience has altered the company’s conduct of explosions. Bao Chico now makes announcements for people to evacuate the area before the explosions. The Monrovia-Bopolu and Bomi-Bopolu highways are closed for half an hour under police supervision.
“The surrounding villagers, relevant construction personnel, vehicle and equipment should cooperate to withdraw from the warning range in time,” a January announcement read.
But affected communities say that is not enough. They want to be relocated to prevent any future injuries. They have repeatedly called on Bao Chico to relocate them but the company has not done so.
“We told them to relocate us but they said it can’t be done hurriedly. They have to put some measures into place,” Sampson Lamah, the communities’ spokesman, said.
‘Ministers will be involved’
The injuries at Bao Chico derive from the concessioner’s noncompliance with several levels of workplace safety standards. It lacks a workplace legal framework to secure the safety, health and welfare of employees, a violation of the Decent Work Act of Liberia.
It has violated the law by not establishing a safety and health committee to oversee and address all safety and health needs of workers.
Sumo, the Labor Commissioner, agrees Bao Chico is noncompliant with labor standards.
“It is true that they don’t have [legal framework and established safety and health committee] at all,” Sumo said.
“Workers need to be dressed up properly in protective gear before getting to work to avoid injury,” Sumo added.
“The Labor Ministry will engage Bao Chico on these issues. It has reached to a level now where all of the ministers will be involved and resolve some of these issues”.
Bao Chico’s violation of labor safety standards means it has breached the Minerals and Mining Law of Liberia.
There is no record that Bao Chico drew up its workplace regulations approved by the Ministry of Mines and Energy as required by the law. There is also no record it reported those injuries to the Ministry of Mines, another violation of the law.
Bao Chico did not respond to queries for comments on this story.
The United States Embassy provided funding for this story. The DayLight maintained editorial independence over the story’s content.
Top: A poster showing the illegal logging activities by Michael Feika in Totoquelleh, Gbarpolu County. The DayLight/Rebazar Forte
By James Harding Giahyue
TOTOQUELLEH, Gbarpolu County – “If [it is a] container, I give you my price. You buy it from me in the bush,” Michael Feika, an illegal logger, told his new client.
Feika is a broker of kpokolo, squared, compact timber whose trade the government “banned” just over a year ago but has reemerged, with authorities yet to act.
Feika shared several of his past and present operations with Joemue Wortee when they met in Paynesville on March 8. The pictures were equally revealing as Feika’s verbal pitch to Wortee, the assumed client.
“I will bring [the kpokolo] to town. It is only left with you to pay me because I got the document,” Feika said as he tried to convince Wortee of a deal.
“This thing [is] my business from day one.”
In his late 30s and with a Sierra Leonean accent, Feika sent Wortee to his network in Totoquelleh in the Bopolu District of Gbarpolu County. There, Wortee saw Feika’s setup—production sites, an earthmover, timber and a gang of chainsaw millers and haulers.
But Wortee was no businessman. He was an undercover reporter whose mission was to uncover Feika’s illegal logging activities. The reporter’s mission set off as evidence of fresh kpokolo activities began in the western countryside.
The DayLight used undercover techniques because it appeared impossible that Feika would submit to an open probe, particularly after our previous report on the return of kpokolo. Also, such investigation in a forest best guaranteed the reporter’s safety.
‘Mikelo’
The DayLight’s undercover reporter under his assumed name traveled to Totoquelleh, some 62 miles north of Monrovia.
When the reporter arrived at the destination, Feika had already informed a member of his network about the assumed businessman’s mission. The undercover reporter did not know this so, he went asking the townspeople for the teenage member named only as Morris.
Just as Feika had said, everyone the reporter asked in Totoquelleh said they knew Feika and his operations. The people call him Mikelo, a play on the words “Michael” and “Kpokolo.”
Feika and Morris live in a mud hut from where the former serves as the ringleader for their wood trafficking network of over 20 operators. At times he hosts Sierra Leonean illegal loggers for months in Totoquelleh. Feika claims that he hails from Margibi County but his Facebook account lists Freetown as his home city. Other Feikas listed as his friends on Facebook also come from Sierra Leone. This means Feika is not even qualified to conduct small-scale logging activities in Liberia, set aside for only Liberians.
The undercover reporter went to Feika’s house in search of Morris. That search took him to the home of Abadulai Fofana, another kpokolo producer in the forest-enveloped community. It was here the reporter met Morris.
The short, black teenager, who is also a motorcycle taxi driver, then took the undercover reporter on a guided tour of Feika’s kpokolo world.
As they took a footpath leading to a farm, Morris told the undercover reporter that they produced a lot of kpokolo in 2022. Their production has slowed down in the last two years and they only produce when a customer approaches them.
As they walked deeper, the undercover reporter saw some abandoned kpokolo on the floor of the dried, dim wooded area. Morris disclosed that it was one of the many locations where Feika worked.
Morris’ comments corroborated Feika’s account and that of the picture he shared with the reporter in Paynesville. Feika had said that he harvested the wood in 2022 but backed off after the supposed ban.
Feika’s new worksites in the pictures were too far for the reporter to venture even for a client. The reporter and Morris decided to head back to the town.
Nevertheless, the pictures already took the undercover reporter to Feika’s new locations. They show piles of kpokolo in the forest, felled logs waiting to be milled, targeted trees for harvesting and timber at a portable sawmill. One particular picture showed Feika posing for a picture next to another felled tree.
“The ones standing there, I [cut] one down before I could come to Monrovia,” Feika said back in Paynesville, referring to a gigantic tree. “This one is Iroko the white one,” he added, citing a first-class tree species scientifically known as Milicia excelsa, which kpokolo traffickers prefer.
‘It is easy’
About a 10-minute into their journey back to Totoquelleh, the reporter and Morris saw a score of 12-inch kpokolo that Fofana, Feika’s competitor, harvested.
Not far, lay five others in the middle of a dirt road close to the K.J. Village. The kpokolo appeared to have fallen off the vehicle transferring them from the forest. Tire impressions show clearly in the sunbaked mud.
Fofana had disclosed he kept more kpokolo in their conversation before the undercover reporter met Morris.
“The sizes are 50X50, 40X40 and 30X30,” Fofana said at the time. He meant the timber’s dimensions range from 30 to 50 inches in thickness, up to 25 times the authorized size.
“It was produced last month,” Fofana added.
“When somebody [has a] contract for me, I can do it. That business is a contract. It can come and we discuss it before we do it.” Fofana’s comments had confirmed Feika’s suspicion that other kpokolo operators in Totoquelleh would try to snatch the assumed businessman.
Upon his return to Totoquelleh from his Morris-guided tour, the undercover reporter photographed an excavator parked near a truck in an open field.
“You see that car over there,” Fofana said, pointing to the excavator. “It is the one that can hook [the kpokolo and put them in the container].”
‘Not small money’
Thankfully, the pictures Feika shared with the undercover reporter show the entire container-packaging process. Several pictures show the wood being measured with a tape rule. One shows a crane shoving kpokolo into a container, while another reveals two men sealing it up.
“Some of the containers allow eight, 14, 16 and 20 pieces of wood to go in, depending on the sizes of the wood,” Feika said back in Paynesville. He revealed the kpokolo measuring three inches and four-and-a-half inches were the ones now in demand.
Feika said he had stopped producing larger kpokolo due to the ban but was open to cutting them once he got the right offer. “If you want [them]…, it is not small money you will spend,” he said.
The prices for a container filled with kpokolo are based on the class of the wood. Prices range from US$7,000 to US$12,000, including transportation to Monrovia, according to Feika. Feika’s favorite first-class species apart from Iroko are Afzelia (Afzelia spp), Ekki (Lophira alata), Lovoa (Lovoa trichilioides) and Niangon ( Heritiera utilis). These species are expensive and produce hardwood used for shipbuilding, railroad ties and outdoor construction.
If a client wants just one container, they must pay Feika at least half of their negotiated amount. If the client wants multiple containers, they pay for at least one container upfront. However, the client must pay the FDA US1,200 for an annual export permit, US$1,000 for the paper and the balance for paperwork, Feika said. Those figures are the same as the ones on the kpokolo permit the FDA issued before the so-called ban.
Once the container is filled and sealed, Feika makes phone calls to FDA rangers posted on the Bopolu-Monrovia highway via Klay. Feika would not share the rangers’ contact or say their names.
“When I reach the checkpoint, I will say, ‘Yes, I am the one [who has] the wood. Everybody knows me because I have a document from the FDA with a license number assigned to me. I will give them my container serial number and they check it and we pass.”
But Feika warned against double-crossing him to deal with rangers directly. He recounted the story of two Korean illegal loggers, the police commander and other accomplices who were arrested in Klay, Bomi County.
“If the [authorities arrest] you, you are finished because some FDA [agents] will tell you, ‘Come, I will carry [them] for you.’ If you depend on them, you will lose,” Feika said.
Ironically, Feika did not know he was speaking to a reporter of the newspaper that exposed the syndicate. The DayLight would go on to assist a police investigation that led to the men’s arrest and the dismissal of the police commander and an FDA ranger.
Feika’s contacts and influence do not extend to the Freeport of Monrovia but he offered some valuable information. Smugglers must acquire an export permit and find a customs broker at the Freeport of Monrovia to help export the timber. It costs US$1,200 to obtain the export permit certificate from the FDA—US$1,000 for the permit and the balance to secure the document.
Once they obtain the permit, they will have to pay the container’s owner US$200 per container and US$100 for each truck to transport them.
“Forget the shipment of the wood,” Feika reassured. “Once you get money, it is easy.”
His disclosure was not news to the undercover reporter. After all, The DayLight has published illegal permits, receipts and claims by kpokolo exporters in previous investigations. Those publications also revealed the mode of the illegal trade and its ringleaders.
Faika advised his presumed client to ship the wood to Turkey or Germany. “If it is Germany, I will be happy,” he said, “because I have some of my friends in Germany.”
This was a production of the Community of Forest and Environmental Journalists of Liberia (CoFEJ). Funding for the story was provided by the Kyeema Foundation and Palladium.
Top: New pieces of kpokolo in Gbaryama, Gbarpolu County. The DayLight/Gabriel Parker
By Esau J. Farr and Philip W. Quwebin
GBARYAMA – People in Gbarpolu are secretly harvesting Kpokolo, a boxlike timber the Forestry Development Authority (FDA) said it banned last year.
In late January, The DayLight photographed newly produced kpokolo in Gbaryama, a town in the Gbarma District about 79 miles from Monrovia. Hundreds of fresh kpokolo were placed on an open field just outside the town.
Townspeople revealed smugglers, who reside outside of the town, hired a gang of chainsaw operators to harvest kpokolo. Once harvested, the woods are transferred by a crane to a pickup, which then brings them to a location. Thereafter, they are loaded onto a container truck at night.
“They can hide it and take it away at night so, people can’t easily see them in the day,” Armah Dukuly, the Town Chief of Gbaryama Town. “We don’t get that power to stop them.”
More than three weeks later, The DayLight revisited Gbaryama and found that the kpokolo had been taken away. Journalists photographed tire impressions matching the description of a truck on the now-cleared field. About 14 pieces of the illegal wood remained there. The illegal loggers had transported the rest.
There were other kpokolo in the forest. DayLight journalists took a 15-minute ride from Gbaryama on a motorcycle taxi to a forest footpath leading into the woods.
In the forest, reporters saw short round logs that were meant to produce kpokolo. Timber remnants could be seen on the floor of the forest. Loud vroom noise from at least four chainsaws buzzed at different locations.
Dukuly and other chiefs and elders told The DayLight the four men negotiate with farmers in Gbaryama, enter into a verbal agreement and start the harvesting. They said the operators pay the farmers up to L$550 for a piece of kpokolo, corroborating previous reports of locals’ involvement in the illegal trade.
People said the illegal loggers built tents made of tarpaulins in the forest to conduct their operations.
“Most of the time, they are in the forest.],” said Varsay Sirleaf, one of the oldest persons in Gbaryama Sirleaf.
A recent report by the US-based Forest Trends found that kpokolo threatens local communities, chainsaw millers and Liberia’s revenue. It uses the chainsaw milling subindustry to veil its activities, using the same workforce and timber sources, the report said.
But the difference between them is stark. Chainsaw-milled timber measures two inches and below, while Kpokolo can be up to five times thicker, or more.
The kpokolo in Gbaryama were between two and four times the industry-accepted size of chainsaw-milled timber. The ones on the opened field were about six inches thick, based remaining ones there.
‘I felled few’
Four men conduct the kpokolo activities in Gbaryama, three of which The DayLight had previously investigated. The men are Saah Joseph (not the Montserrado lawmaker), one only identified as Sahyo, James Kelley and Richard Flomo.
Joseph has harvested kpokolo in Gbaryama for over two years, according to elders and chainsaw millers. Dukuly said Joseph recently resumed his kpokolo operations in the town after negotiating with some farmers.
The DayLight gathered evidence of Joseph’s illegal activities in December 2022. Locals said a pile of kpokolo in the middle of the town and the forest belonged to him.
“I think he has some in the bush and he is supposed to come for it,” said Molubah Korlubah, a kpokolo logger, who said he worked for Joseph in 2022.
“The FDA people don’t come here. They focus on the gate,” Korlubah added.
Sahyo is a more conning operator than Korlubah, the evidence suggests. Originally from a town called Supermarket in Bopolu District, Sahyo harvests kpokolo even without the consent of farmers. Dukuly said he had had an encounter with him the night before The DayLight’s third of four visits to the town.
“I asked him how he entered there to [harvest] kpokolo. And he only said, ‘I entered there, I saw kpokolo and myself [harvested] the logs…. I felled few.’
“Then I asked him, ‘Who [did] you ask?’”
“I stopped him,” Dukuly added.
Morris Kamara, a resident farmer, confirmed Dukuly’s account of Sahyo.
“This year, Sahyo [harvested] in my forest and produced kpokolo there and left,” Kamara revealed. “They have already transported it out of the forest to Monrovia.
“He is presently in another person’s forest producing but I don’t know where.”
Efforts to contact Sahyo and Joseph on their kpokolo operations were unsuccessful. Everyone The DayLight interviewed in Gbaryama said they did not have the duo’s contacts. Follow-up phone calls to other townspeople yielded no other results.
‘From one forest to another’
There were indications Kelley and Flomo were bigger operatives and more familiar with Gbaryama than Joseph and Sahyo.
Kelley lodged in a house in the town, where The DayLight interviewed him in December 2022. A middle-aged, light-skinned man, Kelley has been in Gbaryama since September that year, he said at the time.
Dukuly said Kelley asked him recently to harvest kpokolo on his farmland but he disagreed. Kamara and Moses Thompson, another elder, corroborated Dukuly’s account.
“Kelley is here among the [kpokolo operators] but I don’t know whose forest he is working in. They move from one forest to another in search of more woods,” Thompson added.
Kelley’s phone number did not ring when The DayLight tried to contact him. However, in that 2022 interview, he revealed that he had been involved with kpokolo since 2014. He produced kpokolo in Buchanan before coming to Gbaryama.
“Here in Gbaryama, our dimensions were 4X12X9.5 and 4X10X9.5,” Kelley said back in 2022. He meant four inches thick, 10 or 12 inches wide and nine and a half feet long.
But of all the kpokolo operators in Gbaryama, Flomo appeared to be the kingpin. Every farmer or resident The DayLight interviewed said they knew him. Even Kelley said in that 2022 interview Richard was his boss.
Dukuly said he called Flomo recently and informed him to halt the kpokolo operation but his order fell on deaf ears.
“He said, ‘Oh Chief, that one I just want y’all to give us a chance.’
“I said no. If I see it, you will lose it,’” Dukuly said. He added that Flomo tried to convince that it was the kpokolo operators that risked an arrest, not the townspeople.
Korlubah, the chainsaw miller, said he had harvested a container load of kpokolo for Richard in 2022. “There were 250 pieces of Kpokolo, 4X12 and 4X10,” Korlubah said then, confirming Kelley’s story.
“I worked for him in November. He paid me one piece for LD500.”
People said Flomo combed the region in this pickup in search of forest to produce kpokolo. They said it was he who introduced kpokolo to Gbaryama.
Efforts to contact Flomo did not materialize. No one in Gbaryama said they had his contact and Kelley had refused to share it back in 2022.
‘There is no ban’
In February last year, said it had banned kpokolo. The unofficial pronouncement followed months of reports of widespread kpokolo activities involving the regulator.
Edward Kamara, the FDA manager for forest marketing and revenue forecast said kpokolo had become “prone to illegal exportation.”
The FDA has not published the ban or made awareness of it, except to discuss it in a meeting on Liberia’s timber trade agreement with the European Union last June. Forest Trends called on the Joseph Boakai administration to officiate, publicize and enforce the ban on kpokolo.
In Gbaryama, people are aware of the so-called ban but chiefs and elders find it difficult to keep the ban.
“If you ban kpokolo in someone’s forest, the forest owner will get vexed [at] you. That person will feel that you want to stop their family’s income,” said Dukuly.
Morris Kamara, the Gbaryama resident, blames the FDA for the illegal activities. “We are getting that information [about banning kpokolo] as rumors. I believe if the FDA banned kpokolo, they could not allow kpokolo to pass [through] their checkpoints.
The FDA has major checkpoints on Bopolu-Monrovia and Tubmanburg-Monrovia highways. There is one each at Sawmill, not far from Gbaryama, and Klay in Bomi—to name two.
“If the people [are] still passing with kpokolo, then it means that [there is no ban] on kpokolo,” Kamara said.
The FDA did not respond immediately to comments. The DayLight will update this story once it does.
[Additional reporting by Gabriel Parker]
This was a production of the Community of Forest and Environmental Journalists of Liberia (CoFEJ). Funding for the story was provided by the Kyeema Foundation and Palladium.
Top: Men make a dredging machine on the Zormue Creek in Bokomu District, Gbarpolu County after Weedor Gee, the owner, obtained clearance from the local representative of the Ministry of Mines. Picture credit: Korninga A Community Forest
By James Harding Giahyue
ZORMU, Gbarpolu – Illegal miners are set to dredge a sacred creek in a town in the Bopolu District of Gbarpolu County.
The miners who work for Weedor Gee, a businesswoman who hails from the region, built dredge on the Tumu Creek. Gee has no prior history of holding a mining license, records of the Ministry of Mines and Energy show.
Tumu Creek is revered in the Korninga Chiefdom, and it is a sacrilege to even put a canoe over it without a traditional rite, locals say.
Initial videos and photographs obtained by The DayLight show the miners building the machine. Others taken a week later reveal two miners assembling the makeshift machine on the creek, ready to operate.
In 2019, the ministry imposed a moratorium on dredging nationwide. The suspension, which is still in place, was meant to curb the pollution of water bodies across the country and the degradation of the rural environment.
But the dredging and other forms of illicit mining continue to proliferate in remote regions, polluting streams and threatening local traditions.
Samuel Fahn, the mining representative in the region, had issued Gee a clearance late last month. Gee paid Fahn US$400 for the clearance, with both of them confirming the transaction.
Clearance fees for mining agents are not legal but are accepted by authorities. An outgoing official of the ministry, who asked for anonymity, said it was meant to empower mining agents to function.
The leadership of the Korninga A Community Forest, in which the creek is located, raised qualms about the dredge, based on the videos and pictures.
“The document says class C but the materials they are carrying are for dredging,” said Emery Ciapha, the acting chairman of the Korninga A Community Forest.
“I know that the… Ministry of Mines and Energy is not offering a license for dredging in this country,” Ciapha added in an interview in Tawalata Town. He said he would monitor the situation “closely.”
Gee said in a phone interview that dredging would keep illicit miners away. “We want to stop people from invading our farmland, that is the main issue that carried me there,” she said.
“It is just to stop people from [encroaching on] the land because if a person gets a license, you cannot stop them from doing what they want to do.
“If you have the land and get a claim, you can do what you want to do with it,” Gee added.
Gee disclosed that she had thought about farming but changed her mind to mining based on someone’s advice. She decided to dredge because it produced quicker results than mining on the land or the banks of the creek.
A dredge uses a vacuum to suck out mud and debris from the bottom of a water body. Then a water pump removes unwanted sediments and traps gold nuggets on a slanted platform. The process involves less labor but pollutes the water environment and makes it inhabitable for fish, experts say.
Fahn denies authorizing the businesswoman to dredge the creek. “I did not tell them to use dredge. If I come and see anyone mining with dredge, I will close them down,” he told The DayLight. Fahn had made those comments about a week before The DayLight obtained evidence that Gee built the dredge.
Gee refutes Fahn’s claims, though. She counterclaims that he was aware of her intent to dredge the creek from the beginning. She failed to provide any evidence to back that claim.
“Each time he goes there, he asks, ‘Where is the [dredge’s] key?’
“We say, ‘Here is the key. We are not working. “He says, ‘Are you working?’ We say, ‘No, we are working.’” Gee said she did not know dredging was outlawed and Fahn did not inform her.
Fahn did not answer calls for a reply to Gee’s comments and he did not return the call. However, Fahn said in his original interview that the creek was mentioned so that Gee’s mineworkers could work on the banks of Tumu Creek.
The clearance also appears to vindicate him. The document marks class C as the license type. Multiple sources familiar with the industry said Fahn mentioned the creek to locate the claim, not to authorize dredging.
Asked about her relationship with traditional authorities, Gee said she had the support of chiefs and elders as their daughter.
George Ballah Sumo, the Paramount Chief of Korninga Chiefdom, denies that claim.
“Nobody has met up with my office about dredging,” Sumo said. “I will not allow people to dredge on that water because it will destroy the water source.”
Sumo said the community would only accept a medium or large-scale mine there to build its road network.
Mining on a sacred site without the authorization of local chiefs and elders is prohibited under the Minerals and Mining Law.
Funding for this story was provided by the United States Embassy. The DayLight maintained editorial independence over the story’s content.
Top: Coveiyalah’s majority and minority shareholders have been in court for about two years, staling the company’s agreement with Korninga A Community Forest. The DayLight/James Harding Giahyue
By Emmanuel Sherman
GIANKPA, Gbarpolu – Villagers celebrated when Korninga “A” Community Forest signed a logging contract with Coveiyalah Investment Enterprise in March 2019.
“Within the next five years, I am hoping to see the community prospering when it comes to roads, sanitation, education and healthcare,” said Armah Johnson, a member of Korninga A’s leadership, at the time.
In the agreement, Korninga A leased Coveiyalah 48,296 hectares of forest in exchange for development. There is even a provision for a wood science college, which campaigners criticized for being “unrealistic.”
Nearly five years on, Johnson and other villagers find themselves longing for even the realistic projects, common to community forest deals. There are no latrines, concrete bridges, health facilities and—obviously—wood science college.
For the last two years, the shareholders of Coveiyalah have been embroiled in a fierce lawsuit, leaving the community without their benefits.
In 2022, Anthony Urey, Coveiyalah’s 10 percent shareholder, sued Lu Li, the company’s 90 percent shareholder, according to a court document.
The DayLight saw a notice from the Commercial Court in Monrovia at Coveiyalah’s camp in Giankpa, halting its work. The company’s log yard and personnel lodge were all overtaken by bush.
Levi Laban, a former liaison officer with the company said the company left many logs in the bush due to the case.
The court filing posted on an earthmover at the company’s sawmill shows Urey petitioned the court for an indemnity bond and his partner objected. An indemnity bond ensures a remedy against a partner in a contract if that partner fails to uphold their obligations.
Efforts to get the case file did not materialize as the matter is still before the court. Attempts to get it elsewhere proved unsuccessful.
Two years in court has been two years of wait, lack and frustration for Korninga A.
“There have been no payments done, land rental, [harvesting], or scholarships,” said Emery Ciapha, the head of the community leadership of Korninga A.
Coveiyalah constructed two toilets but the community rejected them. Our reporter who visited Giankpa said grasses overran the facilities due to abandonment.
“That is not what we want,” Ciapha said. “They are not the modern toilets we agreed upon.”
Urey told the community leadership that they would make the payment after the case, according to Ciapha.
It was unclear how much Coveiyalah owes the villagers as Ciapha said he did not have the information. However, an analysis of the company’s previous payments, the agreement, and records of the Forestry Development Authority (FDA) places the amount to at least US$66,407 in land rental fees, US$55,058 in harvesting fees and US$30,000 in scholarships. That is US$151,465 in total.
Urey did not respond to The DayLight’s inquiries on Korninga A and the case with his partners.
The case is the latest of Korninga A’s nightmares. In 2022, the leaders of the forest misused US$76,000 and were jailed for it.
With the case still not being finalized, the FDA and civil society conducted an election in which Ciapha was elected head of an interim committee in September last year. It has a six-month mandate.
The community must review the agreement with Coveiyalah in May. In forestry, the community has the right to sign a 15-year agreement with the FDA to comanage its forest. Thereafter, villagers can sign a third-party agreement with a logging company of their choice with the FDA’s approval. Then every five years, they are required to review the third-party agreement.
Ciapha said Korninga would push to cancel the contract with Coveiyalah.
“Time is about to elapse for the revision of the document, which is May 25,” Ciapha said. “We are not thinking about the renewal of their contract after review because implementation is poor.”
Top: Korninga B Community Forest covers 31,318 hectares in the Bokomu District of Gbarpolu County. The DayLight/James Harding Giahyue
By Esau J. Farr
MANOWALLAH, Gbarpolu County – A community forest has canceled its contract with a logging company after denying locals their benefits and development.
Korninga B Community Forest in Bokomu District, Gbarpolu County had sued Indo Africa Plantation Limited for a breach of the agreement, according to court documents. The company reneged on the terms of the agreement and denied it several benefits and undermined development which led to a lawsuit.
“The third-party forest management agreement is hereby declared canceled as though same has never existed among and between the parties…,” said Judge Zubullah Kizeku of the 16th Judicial Circuit Court in Bopolu in its summary judgment ruling. A summary judgment is a final decision made by a court based on the statements and evidence without going to trial.
Aaron Mulbah, the chief officer of Korninga B, said he was happy the community has gotten back their forest.
“It didn’t come to me as a surprise, because of the proper documentation of our issues with Indo Africa and records shown [in] court,” Mulbah said.
Indo Africa did not respond to queries.
Korninga B signed a 14-year agreement with Indo Africa, a firm owned by a Singaporean family, the Guptas. Korninga B leased its 31,318-hectare forest to Indo Africa for a forest contract.
The company agreed to pay Korninga B US$46,977 as a land rental fee, US$30,000 for scholarships and US$25,000 for medical each year.
The company further promised to construct two handpumps in each town, a youth centre and a paramount chief’s office for affected communities.
But up to four years later, the company failed to harvest a single log to make the payments. That failure violated a clause in its contract and a provision in the Community Rights Law, prompting the lawsuit. The law requires companies to begin harvest within 18 months after the signing of the agreement.
In all, Korninga B received US$65,000 in land rental fees from Indo Africa, according to Mulbah.
The community used the fund to begin the construction of a guesthouse in Henry Town, the region’s most populated place.
Mambutu Dukuly, another community leader, said that based on their experience with Indo-Africa they would conduct background checks on companies before awarding any future contracts.
“We will be looking at their financial strength, records of work, relationship with communities and… payment…,” Dukuly said.
The cancellation of the deal, however, means affected communities still do not have a school or a clinic. Schoolchildren have to walk a long distance to Henry Town as Bopolu is even farther.
Patience Kumakeh, one of the decision-makers for Korninga B, said that will feature high in their next agreement.
“The community will be looking up to any company that will be willing to provide road reconditioning, the construction of clinics, school handpumps and educational support.”
Korninga B is not Indo Africa’s only failure. The company also abandoned a contract with Bondi Mandingo in Gbarpolu in the Bopolu District. It and Sing Africa, another company owned by the Guptas, are listed in a recent forestry review and are dormant.
Funding for this story was provided by the Kyeema Foundation and Palladium. The DayLight maintained editorial independence over the story’s content.
Top: Korninga B Authorized Forest Community has sued Bea Mountain Mining Corporation for US$4.3 million in damages for alleged illegal entry and destruction of its woodland. The DayLight/James Harding Giahyue
By Esau J. Farr
TUBMANBURG, Bomi County – A community forest in Gbarpolu County has rejected Bea Mountain Mining Corporation’s proposal for a settlement in a US$6.3 million lawsuit against the company.
Bea Mountain proposes to pay the Korninga B Community Forest US$100,000, a US$65,000 mobile sawmill and a pair of chainsaws, according to the proposed settlement document seen by The DayLight.
Korninga B and Bea Mountain had agreed to the settlement in 2022 but the company pulled out of the arrangement, prompting the community to go to court. Locals filed for US$6.3 million action of damages over Bea Mountain’s alleged unauthorized entry and destruction of the forest.
Under the settlement agreement, seen by The DayLight, Bea Mountain offers to pay Korninga in two installments. The company agrees to deploy five staff to train the same number of townspeople to operate the sawmill, according to the document.
The settlement proposal also prohibits Bea Mountain from working in the forest and gives Korninga possession of the trees that Bea Mountain cleared.
Aaron Mulbah, the chief officer of Korninga, said they rejected the proposal because they had incurred expenses as a result of their lawsuit. “They have to go above that,” Mulbah told The DayLight.
Cllr. Kunkunyon Wleh Teh, Bea Mountain’s lead lawyer, declined an interview with The DayLight.
Verdict and Retrial
Korninga B’s lawsuit accuses Bea Mountain of felling over 2,800 logs to make a passage through the 78,624-acre forest in the Bokomu District to its mining sites, according to court documents. Bea Mountain is also accused of harvesting logs from the area to construct bridges, throwing some in valleys while burying others.
The company denies any wrongdoing, saying it only mined in areas covering its licenses, and that the community should instead pay it damages for allegedly obstructing its operations.
Following more than five months of legal battle, a six-man jury found Bea Mountain liable for wrongdoing.
But the court granted Bea Mountain’s petition for a retrial on grounds that jurors failed to take witnesses’ testimonies into account and ignored inconsistencies in testimonies, calling the US$5 million damages “grossly disproportionate.”
In early March 2022, Bea Mountain Mining Corporation allegedly illegally entered the Korninga B Community Forest in Bokomu District and felled several trees.
Under the Community Rights Law…, locals own and comanage forests adjacent to their communities alongside the Forestry Development Authority (FDA). The law is a breakaway from the past, where only the government and companies had a say in forestry. It guarantees locals’ right to forestland and prohibits unauthorized entry and use of forest resources.
Before going to court, Korninga informed Bea Mountain of its ownership of the forest and Bea Mounting’s alleged illegal actions. The two parties agreed that the company would pay the community US$165,000 for the damages and other things.
Ruth Varney, a representative of the Forestry Development Authority (FDA) in the western region, had compiled a report on the alleged damages with the company’s funds, court documents show.
But Bea Mountain pulled out of the arrangement, which also included Keyah Saah, the Superintendent of Gbarpolu County. Angered by that, Korninga filed a US$4.3 million lawsuit against the company at the 16th Judicial Circuit Court in Bopolu, Gbarpolu County.
Bea Mountain’s defense team asked the court to dismiss the case. Its lawyers argued that locals did not have the right to sue the company and that it had legal mining licenses to operate in that area.
The three medium-scale mines in question are located in the same region as the Korninga B Community Forest. The licenses of two of the mines are held by MNG Gold, a company owned by Mehmet Nazif Günal, the Turkish billionaire who also owns Bea Mountain. The license for the other is held by Gbarpolu Mining Corporation, a Liberian-owned firm.
Prosecution lawyers led by Atty. Alston Armah asked the court not to grant the defense lawyers’ petition. Prosecution lawyers argued that Korninga had the authority to file the lawsuit. They added that the mining licenses were not owned by Bea Mountain.
The court in Bopolu agreed with Korninga and denied Bea Mountain’s petition, and the case proceeded. However, it was transferred to the 11th Judicial Circuit Court in Tubmanburg, Bomi County after another petition by defense lawyers.
There, prosecution lawyers told the court Bea Mountain broke the Community Rights Law… “The destruction of the forest with no knowledge of the legal community forest is causing [the community] pain, suffering, mental anguish and distress,” one court filing read.
Lawyers of Bea Mountain counterargued that the company and a partner legally obtained the three mining licenses it operates in that region. They said the Korninga forest leadership did not have the authority to sue the company, only its ancestral land leadership had. They said the investigation conducted by Varney was not legal or binding because she was not authorized to do so.
The court heard testimony from Yanquoi Dolo, the head of the FDA’s legal department. “The FDA did not communicate any official assessment report involving Korninga B Community Forest,” Dolo told the jurors.
Following final arguments, the six-man jury handed down a unanimous verdict against Bea Mountain in October last year. The jurors held Bea Mountain liable for US$1,311,401.21 in special damages and US$3 million in general damages.
Three days after the ruling, the company filed a petition for a new trial, citing inconsistencies in witnesses’ testimonies and that the jurors ignored some of their evidence.
Prosecution lawyers argued that documentary evidence and testimonials were sufficient to have the company liable for the damages. They said the jurors’ guilty verdict matched the evidence produced during the trial.
But, this time, the court ruled in favor of Bea Mounting, ordering a retrial. Judge Ciapha Carey said the inconsistencies favored the company as well as the fact not all the trees in question were scaled.
Unsatisfied with the ruling, lawyers representing Korninga B petitioned the Supreme Court for a review of the case. The high court affirmed Carey’s ruling for a new trial.
Mulbah said Korninga was awaiting a retrial.
“We are asking international partners, NGOs to help the community people in our case with Bea Mountain,” Mulbah said. “Bea Mountain feel that they have money… but the law is there.
Top: A townsman looks at the body of Prince Hali, a 20-something-year-old artisanal mineworker who drowned in a mining pit in Belle Yalla over the weekend. The DayLight/James Harding Giahyue
By Esau J. Farr and Charles Gbayor
BELLE YALLA – A man believed to be in his 20s has drowned in a huge mining water in Gbarpolu County.
Prince Hali, an artisanal mineworker, drowned in a mining pit in Belle Yalla over the weekend. A 15-townsman jury found no foul play in Hali’s death.
“We are told that he went to wash himself and drowned,” Vincent Abban, Gbarpolu County’s chief investigator, told The DayLight. “From what I have seen, there was no foul play and the body is intact.”
Eyewitnesses said Hali and other miners had gone to bathe in the mine pit water late afternoon last Friday. The other miners watched in horror as their colleague disappeared into the water.
“We saw the other man running coming and told us that since [Hali] fell into the water he hadn’t been seen,” said Samuel Cole, a friend of Hali.
A search party comprising the police, townsmen and members of Belle Yalla’s community watch team took a day to find Hali’s body. Volunteers had to pump out water from the pit to find his body at the bottom of the pit water.
One of Hali’s relatives wept a river as the search party discovered her brother’s corpse and was helped away from the scene. “I came to visit you and this is how you welcome me,” the woman could be heard crying as she was led away.
The mining pit in which he drowned was left behind by the Randell and Oretha Doe Multipurpose Company, a firm operating in that region. The company had diverted the Manneh Creek, the major source of water for Belle Yalla’s 3,600 people, for a medium-scale mine.
The company’s operations have changed the way of life here, with water scarce most of the year, Peter Flomo, the commissioner of the township. As a result, people have turned to the pit to wash and bath, he added.
Randell Doe, an executive of the company, did not immediately respond to queries. The DayLight will update this story once he does.
Pallbearers carried Hali’s body high on a platform to his grave following a brief funeral ritual. He was buried Saturday, just a stone’s throw from the ill-fated mine pit by the local tradition.
Funding for this story was provided by the United States Embassy in Monrovia. The DayLight maintained editorial independence over the story’s content.