Cocoa Changing Lives but Destroying Grand Gedeh’s Largest Forest

April 1, 2026

Top: A partial view of the Konobo Community Forest in Grand Gedeh County. The DayLight/Samuel Jabba

By Esau J. Farr

BOUNDARY TOWN, Grand Gedeh County – Lawrence Koolor woke up one cool morning, his face beaming with a smile and joy pouring out of his heart. Koolor’s dream became a reality late last year when he moved his family into his new house. He had lived in his uncle’s house for decades.

Koolor built his home out of money he received from Burkinabé cocoa farmers he hosts in Konobo. His house—part-mud, part-concrete with metal roofs— stands out among huts with thatched roofs in Boundary, a town on the border between the Konobo and Tchien Districts in Grand Gedeh County.

“I felt so happy that day for me to go and live in my own house at that time,” recalls Koolor. “That was a complete relief for my family to [move from one bedroom] to a whole house.”

Koolor is one of several residents of Konobo, who, along with their Burkinabé guests, have encroached on Grand Gedeh’s largest remaining rainforest. Townspeople in Konobo say the arrival of Burkinabé cocoa farmers in their communities has transformed their lives.

The map of Konobo. File photo/Forestry Development Authority

Konobo has 390,000 hectares of natural forest, according to Global Forest Watch, an application that tracks deforestation. Gbarzon and Tchein Districts are second to Konobo District in Grand Gedeh County, with higher rainforest, 360,000 hectares each.

Burkinabés likely started migrating into Liberia from the neighboring Ivory Coast in 2014 in search of cocoa farmlands. The Liberia Immigration Service (LIS) has profiled 55,000 Burkinabés in southeast Liberia, 48,000 in Grand Gedeh. Burkinabés, also known as “Mossi,” have agreements with locals in which they provide investment and labor, while the locals provide land.

“The cocoa business that came here is helping to take us from zero to hero,” says Alice Doe, who hosts six Burkinabé migrant workers in Boundary Town.

“Before, we could not get a dime to buy a sheet of zinc. But for now, that story has changed, because before the Burkinabés enter your [forest], they give you [money],” adds Doe.

Interviews and reporters’ observations show Konobo District—a low-income community of 26,588 people—is transforming in several ways. People are earning income from cocoa that they have never earned in their lives. New houses are being built, and one resident is sponsoring his son’s studies in Spain.

Cocoa farming might be transforming lives in Konobo, but it is wiping out the district’s forest. To plant cocoa, Burkinabés burn down the forest. Reporters saw trees losing their foliage, gradually morphing into woody skeletons.

Between 2002 and 2024, Konobo lost 9,300 hectares of primary forest. A 2024 study found that 15 percent of Liberia’s deforestation is linked to cocoa cultivation. Then, last November, the London-based Global Witness linked top European chocolate makers to deforestation in Liberia.

‘Under threat’

Satellite imagery confirms that cocoa farmers are encroaching on the Konobo Community Forest, a 49,625-hectare woodland meant for logging. Konobo and the Forestry Development Authority (FDA) signed an agreement in 2020 to co-manage logging activities with the regulator. The agreement outlaws farming in the community forest.

And that is exactly the case. Drone shots show cocoa pods sprouting amid decaying trees and cultivated forests.

“When the Burkinabés enter the forest, they burn all the trees…,” says Beyan Woi, FDA’s regional manager in Grand Gedeh. “Most of [those] community forests that people wanted to do logging and conservation in are under threat by Burkinabés.”

Burkinabé migrants set fire or apply chemicals to the base of trees in clearing the forest for cocoa cultivation. File photo/Forestry Development Authority

Woi says the FDA has made efforts to curtail encroachment on forests in the southeast, including prosecution.

Wulu Gaye, the chief officer of Konobo Community Forest, echoes Woi’s comments. The encroachment is the biggest challenge Gaye, who was recently elected, faces.

“As we speak, the forest is not well protected. There are illegal farmers farming in the forest,” says Gaye.

Burkinabés-hosts in Konobo deny farming in the community forest, claiming the farmland was their private property.

“I have more than 20 Burkinabés working for me on more than a-kilo-hectare of our farmland here in Boundary Town,” said Dennis Jakar, a classroom teacher and a resident of Boundary Town. Jakar claimed he is using ancestral land for his cocoa farm.

The DayLight could not independently verify Jakar’s and other townspeople’s comments due to the distances to the farms and the security of the reporters. Furthermore, the newspaper could not identify the owners of the farms the drone captured.

However, farmers hosting the Burkinabés say people are farming in the community forest because logging has failed them. Their position is a reference to an inactive logging agreement locals have.

In May 2021, Konobo and Horizon Logging Limited, a Monrovia-based firm, signed a contract. Horizon agreed to construct health facilities, handpumps, and latrines in the affected communities in addition to land rental and harvesting fees. The company failed to carry out the projects, leaving behind unpaid debts and abandoned logs. Horizon did not respond to queries for comment on the contract.

The contract’s failure is visible throughout Konobo. Several logs are abandoned in Boundary Town, behind a clinic and at other locations. Locals drink from creeks, and there are no public latrines.

“They (Horizon) lied to us; so, we were left with no other option but to put Burkinabés in the concession area to [farm for us],” says Christian Menyeah, a Konobo resident, who hosts three Burkinabé migrants.

“The money we are now getting from cocoa farming is plenty and quicker than what a logging company would give us,” adds Bill Yallah, a host of dozens of Burkinabés migrants.

Gaye, Konobo’s chief officer, says his leadership is working with county authorities to remove the encroachers from the community forest.

Gaye says, “Well, all the local authorities [bought] the idea that there’s a need that we remove the illegal farmers…”

Samuel T. Jabba contributed to this story.

This story was a production of the Community of Forest and Environmental Journalists of Liberia (CoFEJ).

New, Community-led Conservation Delivering Promises

March 31, 2026

Top: The payment for stewardship enables communities to get direct cash benefits and livelihood programs for keeping their forests standing. The DayLight/Samuel Jabba

By Varney Kamara

MONROVIA – Years ago, women in Wedjah and Jaedae Districts in Sinoe County processed cassava with their bare hands. Their story has changed for the better. They now use motorized mills, locally called garri machines, to grind their cassava before processing it. The grinders significantly reduce their labor inputs while increasing production, enhancing their businesses and improving their livelihoods.

“Since it was introduced, women’s involvement in business activity in the community has increased. We see more provision shops being built,” says Wratee Boyee, a community leader in Jeadea District.

The flourishing cassava businesses are some of the results of a trial of a new conservation method known as payment for stewardship. Launched last July, the program enables communities to receive direct cash benefits and livelihood interventions to help keep their forests standing. Experts say the program shows great potential to improve lives in rural communities, though it is too early to measure its full impact.

The program intends to protect between 300,000 and 500,000 hectares of forest, with a total investment of US$3.4 million by 2030. It is jointly implemented by Integrated Development and Learning (IDL), a Margibi-based NGO, and the Forestry Development Authority (FDA).

“FDA strongly believes that this project will lead to the enhancement of sustainable forest management, forest conservation, including legal compliance and enforcement,” said Myers Tweh Jr., assurance and compliance manager at the FDA. “It will lead to the implementation of reward-based mechanisms that would reduce pressure on the forest.”

Under the trial, Wedjah is protecting 7,131 hectares, and Jaedae 43,543 hectares after meeting payment requirements. Both communities have received a combined payment of US$150,622 at the rate of US$1.50 per hectare yearly, according to payment records. Wedjah got US$21,393 for the two years the trial has been running, while Jaedae secured US$129,229 for the same period. Moreover, local forest guards receive training, a monthly compensation, protective gear, and GPS-programmed gadgets for monitoring.

Both Wedjah and Jaedae are on the buffer with the Sapo National Park, Liberia’s largest protected area, and the Proposed Grand-Kru-River-Gee Protected Area. They host wildlife such as chimpanzees and other species typical of Liberia’s rainforest, the largest remaining in West Africa.

In exchange for cash and the other benefits, Wedjah and Jaedae do not mine, farm, log, or build new homes in their forests. They harvest timber and non-timber products for community use only. They signed an agreement last June.

Environmentalists say the payment for stewardship helps reduce local communities’ dependency on the forest resources and contributes to the fight against climate change. Between 2002 and 2024, Liberia lost 390,000 hectares of primary forest, according to the Global Forest Watch. Agriculture, logging, mining, illicit activities and a recent cocoa boom in the southeast are the contributors, undermining conservation efforts.

Game-changer

Payment for stewardship breaks away from the past, when communities were at the margins of conservation efforts. In contrast, the program places communities at the core of conservation efforts. They protect the forest and decide what to do with the resources.

“We ensured that no one was excluded from the process,” recalls Silas Siakor, the executive director of IDL, “because, when you exclude others, there is a natural tendency for a whole community to go against you.”

“We wanted to do something very simple: we wanted communities to be provided direct incentives to protect their community forests,” adds Siakor.

Overall, the stewardship is intended to develop a community-led benefit-sharing mechanism. Currently, that is the duty of the Benefit Sharing Trust Board, which regulates resources for logging concessions. However, the new program recommends a channel that incorporates mining, agriculture, and climate finance.

Similarly, the payment for the stewardship program readies communities for climate financing, environmentalists say. Liberia is developing a carbon policy framework.

An independent assessment reviewed the new program’s activities and payment performances, and found positive behavioral changes among locals.

The most visible success of the scheme comes from the investments in livelihood activities, largely driven by village loan groups that provide savings and low-interest loans to members. IDL works with more than 52 in Sinoe; 20 in Wedjah and Jaedae.

“In 2025 alone, the [village loan scheme] generated more than L$50 million (US$263,000) from their village saving activities, more than what the amount the communities received for keeping their forest standing,” says Silas Siakor.

A section of a farm on the edge of a forest in Jaedae District, Sinoe County, in 2025. The DayLight/Esau Farr

For the cassava processing, four machines have been strategically deployed in Wedjah, replacing the traditional method of grinding the cassava. The investment in livelihood is the primary attraction for women, according to Siakor.

In addition to the machines, Wedjah received three motorbikes to improve women’s access to the market and secure better prices for their garri.

“We see that women are forming more financial clubs in the community, the movement of goods and services has increased, and businesses are also flourishing,” Lasting Kadee, a community leader in Wedjah, said in an interview with The DayLight. “We want to give it out to them 100 percent for this program. It is really helping our people.”

Additional feedback

Despite the success stories, the independent assessment found the payment for stewardship to be “moderately strong” in that it was too early to grade the overall impact. The review took place six months into the program, needing more than to conduct a full-scale assessment. This, too, was compounded by bad weather and terrible road networks.

However, the assessment was conclusive regarding the challenges associated with the payment for stewardship. It found that the youth and elderly townspeople disagreed on how potential land disputes could be settled.

Also, it found that townspeople in Wedjah and Jaedae faced difficulty meeting and agreeing on projects due to long distances between communities. Townsfolk said they did not afford transportation to attend meetings, the assessment revealed.

“We saw that planning for the project was a difficult thing to do because you cannot get everybody in one location at the same time,” says Saah David, an environmentalist who led the assessment. “Nevertheless, based on our interactions with the different actors, I think it is a game-changing initiative with a lot of potential.”

David’s report recommends that youth participation, coordination, and improvement in communication and compliance safeguards would address challenges. It also recommends improvement in performance requirements and governance safeguards to meet the program’s challenges.

To meet these challenges, IDL wants to engage communities and support local forest bodies for long-term success.

“We intend to organize more discussions around these issues,” says Siakor. “The idea is to generate additional feedback from the different stakeholders, so that we can derive effective solutions to those issues that have been identified.”

Neezonnie: The Fall of a Community Forest to ‘Brown Gold’

March 27, 2026

Top: A deforested area in Polar Town, Neezonnie Clan, Grand Gedeh County. The DayLight/Samuel Jabba

By Carlucci Cooper

KUEBO TOWN, Grand Gedeh — Princess Monjolo, the Town Chief of Kuebo, a forest-enveloped town situated within the Neezonnie Community Forest, was there from the formation of Neezonnie in 2011. The community obtained the right to co-manage logging activities alongside the Forestry Development Authority (FDA).

However, in recent years, French-speaking men from the neighboring Ivory Coast have begun arriving there on foot, on motorbikes, and by canoe. They encouraged locals to farm cocoa, assuring them it would improve their lives in no time. Townspeople here, including Monjolo, agreed.

“We used to plant rice and other crops before; our lives didn’t change. Now, seeing how the livelihood of the people in the next town is improving, we don’t want to be left behind,” Monjolo says in an interview in Kuebo. “That’s why we agreed to enter the cocoa business.”

Like Monjolo, local people and Burkinabé migrants they host have encroached on the Neezonnie Community Forest to cultivate cocoa. The people here say low living conditions push them towards illegal cocoa cultivation, citing a failed logging contract as their justification.

It was not a tough decision, though, just as Monjolo, who has a six-hectare cocoa farm and hosts eight Burkinabé migrants, puts it. Neezonnie’s neighbors, Marbo-1 and Marbo-2, had done the same years ago and were benefiting from their cocoa production. Modern houses are mushrooming, and businesses are booming.

The transformation here from logging to cocoa, known as the “brown gold,” is touchable. Young cocoa farms line both sides of the road from Polar Town to Tiah Town, as it was in other communities. In Tiah Town, Burkinabé migrants spread cocoa beans on a platform to dry, with the migrants everywhere, outnumbering their landlords. The Liberia Immigration Service has recorded 55,000 Burkinabe migrants in the country, with 48,000 in Grand Gedeh County alone.

Burkinabé migrants pose for a picture before cocoa beans in B’hai District, Grand Gedeh County. The DayLight/Samuel Jabba

The Burkinabés have an agreement with their Neezonnie hosts: The landlords provide land, while the migrants invest cash and labor. In some cases, locals hire Burkinabé to clear the forest for cocoa.

The people in are hopeful that when their cocoa harvest they will begin to experience a better life, like their neighbors in Marbo-1 and Marbo-2.

“My three boys have graduated from high school, and I’m depending on my cocoa to support my children in the university,” says Amelia Sioseoh, a 10-hectare cocoa farmer in Polar Town, one of the communities that owns Neezonnie.

“I inherited eight hectares of cocoa farmland from my parents. The farm was giving me a hard time, but when the Burkinabes came, they transformed the farm, and I will be harvesting soon,” adds Eddie Gaye, a cocoa farmer in Kuebo Town.

Morris Totaye, a Polar Town resident and, like Sioseoh, has a 10-hectare farm in the community forest, is already benefitting from cocoa. Totaye says he has generated US$22,000 from his cocoa farm. His new house—a two-storey building, part mud, part concrete, with a metal roof—is near completion.

“Without this farm, I am not sure that I would be successful,” Tataye tells The DayLight.

“Those who are saying that the Burkinabes should go back have a point. As for me, I would like to apologize: Let the Burkinabés stay because they are helping,” he adds.

But the forest pays a great price for Neezonnie’s newfound prosperity. Since 2022, Neezonnie has lost most of its 42,424 hectares to cocoa cultivation. It is one of eight community forests, the FDA reports. Burkinabés and their hosts have encroached on Grand Gedeh, in addition to proposed protected areas and large-scale logging concessions.

Gbarzon District—where Neezonnie is located—is the worst-deforested region, accounting for 37,000 hectares of primary forest loss between 2002 and 2024, according to Global Forest Watch, an application that tracks deforestation in real time. Permanent agriculture accounts for over 86 percent of that primary forest loss.

“For now, I cannot tell you there’s any forest left in Neezonnie that the government can utilize. Except the government wants to use the dry logs by doing clear-felling. They are burning trees daily, and community dwellers themselves are involved,” says Beyan Woi, the FDA’s deputy regional management officer in Grand Gedeh and Sinoe.

Drone footage of a dying forest in The Neezonnie Community Forest, where deforestation is at an alarming rate. The DayLight/Carlucci Cooper

‘Cocoa money’

Townspeople might be thrilled with their cocoa prospects; however, their farms violate the agreement they signed with the FDA. Under the agreement, Neezonnie cannot clear-cut a forest for agricultural processes.

People here use the failure of a contract between Neezonnie and a logging company to justify their encroachment on the forest. In 2019, the Liberian Hardwood Corporation deserted the contract, abandoning hundreds of logs to decay and failing to deliver on required projects.

Then Neezonnie filed a lawsuit against the company, winning an initial judgment of US$123,332 for damages at a local court. However, in 2021, the Supreme Court overturned the ruling, ordering Liberian Hardwood to vacate the forest.

“We know the forest is for concession, but they are not working. We can’t be sitting down while other towns are getting rich from their forests.

The FDA is in a daily struggle to save the region’s forests. The agency creates awareness, but those efforts have proved unsuccessful. Last year, it arrested 31 Burkinabés at the border between Marbo-1 for encroachment, one of the single-largest apprehensions of the West African migrants. The group was later charged with criminal trespassing and criminal mischief. They deny any wrongdoing.

Neezonnie’s leadership is aware that planting cocoa in the community forest is illegal, but it struggles to prevent intruders. It is the direct opposite of the Bloquia Community Forest, where Sampson Zammie, its leader, works with townspeople there to keep out intruders.

“Our people’s lives are improving, but it will embarrass us in the future. We will not have anywhere to farm in the next five or six years,” says Albert Mohwen, an advisor to Neezonnie’s community forest leadership.

Monjolo acknowledges the negative impacts of cocoa farming, but does not change her stance.

“When we cut down all the trees in the forest,” Manjolo says, “we will buy planks and cement to build our homes from the cocoa money.”

This story was a production of the Community of Forest and Environmental Journalists of Liberia.

Community Forest’s Bank Account Resumes after Unlawful Freeze

March 17, 2026

Top: Isaac Tuker, Chief Officer, Mavasagueh Community Forest, District #2, Grand Bassa County. The DayLight/Emmanuel Sherman

By Emmanuel Sherman

COMPOUND TWO, Grand Bassa County – A community forest’s account has been unfrozen after a bank, allegedly heeding a lawmaker’s request, froze it nearly a year ago.

Last month, the Mavasagueh Community Forest accessed its account at the Liberia Bank for Development and Investment (LBDI) for the first time since it was frozen last March.

“I feel a little relieved,” Isaac Tuker, Mavasagueh’s chief officer, said in an interview in Compound Two, Grand Bassa County. “I am happy that the community account has been opened, so we can do what we are supposed to do as a community.”

Tuker withdrew US$100 from the forest account, based on a receipt of the transaction, to prove that it was operational. The community has set up committees to begin development initiatives, according to Tuker.

The unfreezing of the account followed a community resolution that threatened to stop logging activities in the 26,003-hectare forest.

Last year, the C&C Corporation signed a logging contract with 39 towns and villages of Mavasagueh. However, a few towns and villages claimed they were sidelined, sparking a protest.

It was unclear who authorized the bank to freeze Mavasagueh’s bank account, though.

Clarence Banks, the representative of Grand Bassa’s District Two, and Superintendent Kadyue Johnson intervened in the matter.

Representative Banks alleged that the Tuker and his team had misapplied US$9,500.

Tuker denies any wrongdoing. He claims that the money was used to purchase a motorbike, pay forest guards, and on health matters.

Banks then wrote C&C, asking it to direct all payments to another account.

“I am asking the C&C Corporations to deposit all financial obligations to the affected communities of the Mavasagueh in the following named account with Account# 001USD42205927202 until the investigation is completed,” read the letter.

Deposit slip of US$45,000, to the Mavasagueh Forest Account by C&C, The DayLight/Emmanuel Sherman

As a result, Mavasagueh could not access the US$45,000 C&C Corporation deposited into the account, stalling local development efforts.

Representative Banks did not return interview questions, and LBDI said it could not disclose a customer’s privacy.

“The bank is bound by strict customer confidentiality obligations and, as such, is unable to disclose any information relating to customers’ accounts to a third party,” said Cllr. Regina Elliott, LBDI’s corporate secretary and in-house legal counsel, in reply to a DayLight inquiry.

Regardless, the evidence shows that the account was frozen unlawfully. The Community Rights Regulations, which created community forestry, only empower Tuker to operate the account with the Mavasagueh executive committee’s supervision.

Representative Banks is only a statutory member of the executive committee, which Abraham Sumo, a townsman, chairs.

Lawmakers’ restricted role is a product of forestry reform. It breaks away from the periods before and during the Liberian civil wars, where politicians marginalized local communities and mismanaged forest resources, fueling one of West Africa’s deadliest armed conflicts.

The Man Protecting a Community Forest from Cocoa Deforestation

March 16, 2026

Top: Sampson Zammie, Chief Officer, Bloquia Community Forest, Gbarzon District, Grand Gedeh County. The DayLight/Harry Browne

By Varney Kamara

CHAYEE TOWN, Grand Gedeh –During the Liberian civil war, warring factions fought over forest resources. Sampson Zammie, an ex-combatant, finds himself protecting the very forest he once scrambled for two decades after the conflict ended. However, this time, he has a different foe: cocoa farmers.

Zammie is the leader of the Bloquia Community Forest, who, against all odds, has fought illegal cocoa cultivation. Bloquia measures 43,796 hectares in Grand Gedeh’s Gbarzon District along the Cestos River on the borders with River Gee and Sinoe Counties.

“It’s a bad idea to clear the forest because it is our supermarket, food warehouse, building material and drug store. Whenever our people get sick, we go in there and pick those special traditional leaves and treat them,” says Zammie in an interview with The DayLight in Chayee, his hometown.

“It is our ancestral heritage. We are under an obligation to protect it.”

Thanks to Zammie and local forest guards, Bloquia is the only community forest that has not been cleared for cocoa farms. Burkinabe migrants have encroached upon every forest in Grand Gedeh County. The tally includes eight community forests, several large-scale logging concession areas, and two proposed parks. Backed by their Liberian landlords, the migrants apply chemicals or set fire to the base of trees, gradually transforming virgin woodlands into vast forest graveyards.

Between 2002 and 2024, Liberia lost 390,000 hectares of primary forests, according to the Global Forest Watch, an app that tracks deforestation, utilizing satellite imagery. Grand Gedeh alone lost 59,000 hectares during this time. Last November, London-based Global Witness found a link between the world’s leading chocolate producers and deforestation in Liberia.

The Burkinabes, also known locally as “Mossi,” migrated to the Ivory Coast in the 1930s, becoming a majority of the plantation workforce and boosting that country’s cocoa industry. In search of new cocoa farmland, they began crossing into Liberia in the 2010s by canoe, on foot, and on motorbikes. The Liberia Immigration Service has registered 55,000 Burkinabés in southeastern Liberia, with 48,000 in Grand Gedeh alone.

Locals, including people in the neighboring Neezonnie Community Forest, welcome them with open arms. They see cocoa as an end to years of poverty and underdevelopment. The locals enter agreements with the migrants, wherein they provide the land and the migrants plant and nurture the cocoa.

“I don’t have a problem with the Burkinabés because through them, I have a house today that is worth more than US$17,000,” said Morris Totaye, a Polar Town resident.

“They are very strong, hard-working, and always willing to work. In my mind, they should stay here because they are helping to develop the community.”

Residents of Totaye and Neezonnie cite a failed logging contract as justification for their cocoa activities in their community forest. In 2011, Neezonnie and Bloquia signed a logging contract with A&M Enterprises Inc., owned by Aisha Conneh, the wife of Sekou Conneh, the ex-leader of Liberia United for Reconciliation and Democracy, or LURD. A&M then subcontracted another firm, the Liberia Hardwood Corporation. The contract promised roads, schools and a clinic for residents. However, instead, the contract ended in a fierce legal battle at the Supreme Court in Monrovia.

‘…Never betray my people.’

Zammie and the people in Bloquia are aware of the opportunities that cocoa brings. However, they have chosen legality and heritage over ill-gotten wealth. In forestry, farming in a community forest without the FDA’s authorization is illegal. There are several cases involving the FDA, Burkinabé migrants, and local people.

Zammie has refused several offers to rein him in. In an audio recording of a phone call with Emmanuel Zongo, a spokesperson for the Burkinabé community, Zongo promises Zammie CFA 5 million (US$8,853.13) to plant cocoa in Bloquia. Zammie turned down Zongo’s offer.

“I rejected his offer because it amounted to bribery and corruption,” Zammie says. “I told him that I would be destroying my children’s future if I had accepted his offer, and that would amount to a betrayal of the community’s trust. I can never betray my people.”

Reporters traveled on motorbikes for over five hours, deep into the isolated belly of Grand Gedeh, where the forest thickens, and the road steadily disappears beneath bush and broken earth. A convoy of two motorbikes squealed over fragile wooden bridges and through narrow, mud-slashed paths, tilting dangerously at every bend. There was Zammie.

A soft-spoken, slim, grey-headed man, Zammie joined the Armed Forces of Liberia in 1990 as a private. From 1992 to 2003, he served the disbanded Liberia Peace Council and the Movement for Democracy in Liberia as a battalion commander. After the war, Zammie, now disarmed, returned to Chayee Town, desperate to turn his life around, eager for a fresh start.

Backed by their Liberian landlords, the migrants apply chemicals or set fire to the base of trees, gradually transforming virgin woodlands into vast forest graveyards. The DayLight/Samuel Jabba

His chance came in 2016 when Bloquia, established five years earlier, headed for elections. Zammie contested for the chief officer, the one who runs the daily affairs of a community forest, and won on a white ballot. Liberia had passed the Community Rights Law…, empowering locals to participate in forest governance and share in its benefits.

Zammie uses his wartime experience to organize the community’s forest guards. With Zammie’s oversight, guards regularly deploy across the forest to monitor and remove illegal occupants. His guardianship against encroachment also extends to protecting a 266,910-hectare logging concession adjacent to Bloquia, ravaged by cocoa cultivation.

But like his time as a combatant, leading Bloquia has been a difficult journey for Zammie, who often faces off with encroachers and local authorities.

In 2023, Zammie was removed as chief officer of Bloquia, following a controversial election. However, he was later reinstated after the FDA overturned that election’s outcome, retaining him pending a fresh poll.

Zammie and his guards struggle daily to prevent Burkinabés and their Liberian hosts from illegally occupying the Bloquia forest. At least 30 Burkinabés have been detained and removed from Bloquia by the Zammie-led forest guards, a video shows.

In the video, Zammie can be heard interrogating a group of Burkinabes in Farblor, a village between Bloquia and the large-scale logging concession. Sitting on the ground with folded hands, the men listen to Zammie nervously as he scolds them for encroaching on the community forest.

Zammie also faces threats from Grand Gedeh authorities.

Last April, anti-riot police officers fired at forest guards who had gone to evict illegal occupants. In a video clip of that incident, Zammie is seen presenting ammunition to a local official.

A partial view of Chayee Town in Gbarzon District, Grand Gedeh County. The DayLight/Harry Browne

A partial view of the Bloquia Community Forest, the only community forest in Grand Gedeh without cocoa farms. The DayLight/Harry Browne

Applause

Zammie accuses Alex Grant, the Superintendent of Grand Gedeh County, of masterminding the shooting incident. Now, Zammie travels with dozens of men in a motorbike convoy, as the cocoa crisis in the southeast has resulted in deaths and injuries.

“Grant has always threatened to get rid of me because he said I am standing in his way,” says Zammie. “He wants to take over Bloquia and make it his personal farm.”

Grant did not respond to queries. However, speaking on “Forest Hour” on Okay FM last year, Grant called Zammie “a fugitive.” He called on the police to arrest him “wherever he is found.”

Forestry campaigners have frowned on the constant harassment of Zammie. In a joint press statement last July, they showed solidarity with the Bloquia savior.

“Such threats against a citizen who is acting in the national interest are unacceptable,” says Andrew Zelemen, a forestry campaigner. “We take these allegations seriously and demand a full, impartial investigation. Zammie’s safety must be guaranteed.”

Grant is a major player in Grand Gedeh’s cocoa rush. Last October, Grant signed a 30-year lease agreement with a Burkinabe businessman for 500 acres of ancestral territory in the B’hai District. The deal was later terminated due to several irregularities. Months earlier, Grant had received over CFA 4 million (US$7,111) from B’hai citizens to secure a deed for the same land.

Nevertheless, Zammie’s effort to protect Bloquia Community Forest has been hailed. Beyan Woi, regional management officer for the southeast, is one of his admirers.

“I would like to give it out for the Bloquiah Community Forest. I want to thank Sampson Zammie…,” says Woi. “He is working tirelessly daily and, through him, we don’t have any Burkinabe in that forest.

“Everyone must give him applause for his great work in that area.”

This story was a production of the Community of Forest and Environmental Journalists of Liberia (CoFEJ).

Ex-lawmaker Abandons Land after Illegal Purchase Exposed

March 4, 2026

Top: A portion of ex-Representative Albert Hills’ abandoned 300 acres of farmland in Quikon after a report found he purchased it illegally. The DayLight/Esau J. Farr

By Esau J. Farr

ROCK CRUSHER – A former lawmaker of Bong County has abandoned a rubber farm after an investigation unearthed that he had illegally acquired the land on which it is planted.

Neither Albert Hills Jr., who served as representative of Bong County District #1 from 2018 to 2024, nor his workers have returned to the 300 acres for over three years, according to locals. This reporter observed the farm covered in bush.

“There is no new cutlass mark on that farm as we speak,” said David Kangar, the chairman of Quikon’s customary land leadership. “The guy he put over the farm has left the farm, and nobody comes there [anymore].”

Hill did not reply to questions and failed to answer calls placed to him.

The 2023 investigation had found that Hills paid an elder an undisclosed fee for the customary land in the Quikon Clan of Kokoyah District. The purchase violated the Land Rights Act, which prohibits such a deal until 2068.

The land in question is part of approximately 25,000 hectares for which Quikon is on the verge of getting a customary land deed. The Liberia Land Authority surveyed the land, confirming the clan’s landmass.

Asked what the community would do if Hills came back for the land, Kangar gave a firm response: “The community is going to take the land.”

FDA Seizes and ‘Sells’ Logs without Court Warrant

March 3, 2026

Top: Teak logs that the Forestry Development Authority illegally confiscated ended up at Libfor Forest Corporation, a sawmill involved in alleged illegal timber trafficking. Photo credit: Anonymous

By Esau J. Farr

In 2024, the Forestry Development Authority arrested two truckloads of expensive teak logs in Ganta and Salala that came from Kpaytuo, Nimba County.

The FDA announced it filed a lawsuit against the owner of the logs, providing no further information.

But a DayLight investigation established that the regulator did not obtain a court warrant to seize or auction the logs, as the law requires.

Instead, documents, recordings and interviews paint an intriguing picture of alleged illegal transactions.

The evidence shows that some of the logs ended up in a notorious sawmill, which the FDA sued for alleged timber smuggling.

KPAYTUO, Nimba County – Late 2024, Rose Yancy Adikwu, the manager of Rosemart Inc., a logging company, set off to transport a truckload of teak logs, an expensive and sought-after wood. Little did she know that rangers with the Forestry Development Authority (FDA) at the Salala checkpoint in Bong County would seize the logs.

Before that incident, rangers at the Ganta checkpoint arrested 200 teaks from men linked to Rosemart. That consignment and the one from the Salala checkpoint were taken to the FDA headquarters in Whein Town, Paynesville City. In all, the FDA said it seized about 706 timbers valued at US$20,000.

“FDA’s decision to confiscate the woods is based on the owners of the trucks or companies’ inability to obtain proper documentation for said transactions,” the FDA said in a Facebook post. It said it was processing Rosemart and Amengo to court for violating the forestry law and evading government revenue.

But a yearlong DayLight investigation found that the FDA bypassed the legal process to seize and auction timber. The evidence suggests that the regulator clandestinely transacted with companies that had already traded with Rosemart for the same consignments.

The Eighth Judicial Circuit Court in Nimba, which hears such cases, confirmed it did not issue the FDA any warrant to seize or auction the logs.

In an interview with reporters last December, FDA Managing Director Rudolph Merab admitted to not following the law.

“There was no warrant when I seized [the logs],” Merab said. “I will go to court to get the court’s authorization to sell it.

“I don’t need a warrant to catch a rogue. If you enter my house and I catch you there, you are rogue,” Merab added.

The facts contradict Merab’s comments. The Regulation on Confiscated Logs, Timber and Timber Products provides that the FDA must obtain a warrant from the circuit court where the logs were harvested or stored before the logs are confiscated. The 2017 regulation complements the 1972 Criminal Procedure Law regarding the seizure of contraband and stolen or embezzled property.

‘Lots of money’

Except for the initial arrests and seizures, which were published, the FDA provided no updates on the Ganta and Salala logs in the months that followed. The FDA did not publish any more details as required by law, and ignored detailed questions emailed and hand-delivered six months ago.

So, what happened to the logs in question? Were they sold off? If so, where and when did the sale occur? And who bought them? How much did the individual or company pay the government? How much did Kpaytuo receive?

Documents and interviews The DayLight conducted likely provide the answers to these questions.

In one interview, Adikwu said that Merab told her he had seized the logs because her company was illegally operating. The DayLight obtained a video recording in which Merab corroborates Adikwu’s story. In the video, Merab can be heard saying, “Rose came to my office, and I told her what to do.”

Adikwu alleged that the FDA sold the Salala checkpoint logs for US$1,860 to Bana Liberia, a little-known company. Weeks later, the regulator announced the seizures. There were over 740 logs, not 600 as the FDA announced. It had paid Rosemart US$7,500 for the logs via a Liberia-based executive, a receipt of that transaction, seen by The DayLight, shows.

Interestingly, Bana Liberia stored the logs at Libfor, a sawmill in Caldwell embroiled in at least one lawsuit with the FDA for alleged timber smuggling. Pictures of teaks that The DayLight obtained matched the wood from Kpaytuo, and the environment in the picture fitted Libfor’s yard. A DayLight investigation last January had found that Libfor smuggled timber in and out of Liberia. Trade data shows that it smuggled timber at least 51 times since June 2022.

“Amadu Kabbah, who bought the woods from me, said he took part in the bidding process and won the bid with US$1,800,” said Adikwu. “So, he bought the woods for the second time from the FDA.”

Kabbah confirmed Adikwu’s claim that Bana Liberia bought the wood from the FDA. He revealed that Bana Liberia paid “lots of money to the FDA,” and had still not exported the logs.

FDA’s records suggest it handed the Ganta logs to Fahmah Construction Company, established in 2023. There is no record of that sale, but the FDA reports Fahmah paid US$50 for tags used to track logs.

Some of the controversial logs in Kpaytuo, Nimba County. The DayLight/Carlucci Cooper

The FDA stored Rosemart’s logs at its headquarters in Whein Town, Paynesville. The DayLight/Esau J. Farr

Official records show that Fahmah was registered in LiberTrace—FDA’s log-tracking system—in December 2024, the same month the FDA seized the logs in Ganta. Fahmah had purchased the 143 teak logs from Rosemart for US$3,000 or US$3,500, according to a receipt The DayLight obtained.

Screenshots of WhatsApp chats provide a glimpse into the Rosemart-Fahmah deal. In a WhatsApp chat, a Fahmah representative engaged Rosemart for a deal.

“If you can cut two containers, please let us know. The minimum circumference is 80 centimeters and the minimum length is 2.4 meters,” the representative wrote.

Adikwu replied, “Yes, I have.” It was two days after that conversation when Fahmah was stopped at the Ganta checkpoint.

‘The king of woods’

Last August, Merab visited Kpaytuo to negotiate with townspeople for the remaining teaks there. Referred to as “the king of woods,” teak is used for furniture, outdoor construction and shipbuilding. A cubic meter of teak sells between US$212 and US$805, according to the International Tropical Timber Organization, which sets global prices for wood.

The Kpaytuo teak plantation was established before the First and Second Liberian Civil Wars as part of an afforestation initiative. However, during the conflicts and the decades that followed, illicit occupants destroyed the plantation.

In 2015, Rosemart acquired the right to harvest a prewar teak plantation in Kpaytuo, spanning three FDA administrations. Two years later, Rosemart signed an MoU with townspeople and began exploiting the remnants of the plantation, ravaged by the Liberian civil wars.

Since then, the company has shipped teak logs on several occasions, with the FDA’s approval. One of its last-known shipments occurred in 2020. A 2022 DayLight investigation found that those exports occurred outside the legal system despite the FDA approving them.

Now, while in Kpaytuo, townspeople reminded Merab about their MoU with Rosemart and the company’s legal status, but he dismissed it. The FDA boss does not recognize Rosemart’s legality.

In a video recording of their meeting, Merab can be heard calling Adikwu a “rogue,” threatening to jail anyone who worked with her.

A townsman can be heard asking Merab, “‘Why don’t you take Rose [Adikwu] to court?’”

Merab then replies, “No. I won’t take her to court. She will take me to court.”

The Forestry Development Authority announces the seizure of logs belonging to Rosemart Inc., which operates the Kpaytuo teak plantation in Nimba. Facebook/Forestry Development Authority

Merab’s comments in the video contradicted the FDA’s initial comments during its press conference. The FDA had claimed that it was “awaiting further court proceedings” to confiscate the logs.

In the end, the FDA paid Kpaytuo US$400 for each consignment, twice the amount Rosemart was paying, according to Socrates Kpeah, Kpaytuo’s Commissioner.

Kpeah pitied Rosemart but said Kpaytuo could not fight the FDA.

“The FDA is a big arm. The FDA is the government,” he said, as rangers supervised the transfer of teak logs from the bush to the road. “If the government can come to say, ‘Rosemart is no longer here,’ what power do we have to stop it?”

The FDA published no details of the teak logs it removed from Kpaytuo. Townsmen, who helped transfer the wood, however, said they counted 738 logs. Francis Wile, a Rosemart representative, corroborated that information.

The FDA had contacted Oyaleke Ademola, a Nigerian businessman, who had pulled out of the deal upon learning of the logs’ history, according to Adikwu. The Nigerian did not respond to queries for comments on the matter.

CORRECTION: This version of the story corrects a previous version, which stated that Merab paid the community L$40,000. The actual amount is US$400.

It also corrects Salayea in the highlights of the story for Salala, where the arrest took place.

This story was a Community of Forest and Environmental Journalists (CoFEJ) production.

FDA Seizes Illegal Logs Investigations Exposed

February 16, 2026

Top: Some of the logs Westwood illegally harvested in the Gba Community Forest. Picture credit: Anonymous

By Emmanuel Sherman

MONROVIA – A Nimba court issued the Forestry Development Authority (FDA) a warrant to seize logs that a company illegally harvested last year.

The Eighth Judicial Circuit Court in Sanniquillie ordered the FDA to take charge of the 5,694.33 cubic meters of logs Westwood Corporation felled outside a designated area in the Gba Community Forest, Sanniquillie-Mahn District.

“You are hereby commanded to immediately proceed to confiscate all logs harvested by West Wood Corporation outside of the 450-acre area…,” read the court warrant.

Samuel Cooper, Westwood’s manager, declined to be interviewed.

An FDA investigation had found evidence that the company harvested 4 kilometers outside the 450-acre area, near the East Nimba Nature Reserve, home to endangered species.

The Investigation confirmed an earlier DayLight publication that utilized satellite imagery to pinpoint the illegal felling. The newspaper had established that Westwood made two shipments of the illegal logs to Italy, violating Liberia’s timber-trade agreement with the European Union. Moreover, the company’s shareholders are unknown.

Having seized the logs, the FDA is required to seek a warrant for a public auction.

FDA’s Managing Director Rudolph Merab said the regulator had already auctioned the logs. “Kris Veneer [Industries] won the bid for the auction, Merab told The DayLight. (Kris operates a plywood factory in Buchanan, Grand Bassa County.)

This is the first time the FDA has auctioned illegal logs since the Regulation on Confiscated Logs, Timber and Timber Products was formulated in 2017.

Contract ‘End’ Exposes Corruption Inside a Forestry Watchdog

February 16, 2026

Top: A poster showing Roberto Kollie (left), St. Solomon Peters (center) and Edward Teah, the main characters in this investigation of the Benefit Sharing Trust Board. Illustration by Michael Harijgens for The DayLight

By Varney Kamara

Roberto Kollie joined the National Benefit Sharing Trust Board in 2021, with a vision to help reform it. Accordingly, Kollie scrutinized the activities of the board’s executives without fear or favor.

Last year, one executive alleged that he paid Kollie a bribe for certain payment; Kollie was subsequently suspended.

The Forestry Development Authority investigated the matter and exonerated Kollie of the accusation. The FDA praised him for championing transparency and accountability.

Nevertheless, the Board terminated Kollie’s contract, leading to a case now before the Ministry of Labor.

The case, the FDA investigation, documents, recordings, and interviews The DayLight conducted shed light on corruption in the board and impunity in forestry.

MONROVIA – In January 2021, Roberto Kollie was recruited as head of the secretariat of the National Benefit Sharing Trust Board, which regulates communities’ shares of logging resources. Kollie had just left his job as a human resource officer at a bank, and before that, an auditor with the Ministry of Finance and Development Planning.

The 41-year-old dreamed of guiding the board to uphold its core values of transparency and accountability and driving major reforms to benefit communities. Just months on the job, Kollie helped draft the board’s first budget, saving it from bankruptcy, according to a 2021 report.

“I had a vision to ensure that during my time at the board, we would make sure there was value for money, where funds delivered for projects would be properly accounted for,” Kollie said in an interview with The DayLight. “In that way, the board would be living up to its objectives, and that communities would benefit from a fair share of their natural resources.”

But his story was too good to be true. Last July, months before his fifth anniversary as head of secretariat, Kollie received shocking news: His contract had been terminated. It was the grand finale of an internal struggle that would shed light on corruption inside the board and the culture of impunity in forestry.

It all started on November 25, 2024, when Edward Teah, a local forest leader in Grand Gedeh County, requested L$702,494.61 (US$3,753 today) check from the board for his community leadership’s share of land rental that the International Consultant Capital (ICC) had paid the Liberian government.

In 2009, ICC signed a logging concession with the Liberian government, covering 266,910 hectares across River Cess, Nimba, and Grand Gedeh. Thirty percent of the land rental fees companies pay to the government goes to affected communities under the National Forestry Reform Law. Of that amount, community leaders are entitled to a tenth of land rental fees. It was that money that Teah had requested.

Kollie denied the request, based on an issue he discovered with Teah’s previous report. Kollie had noticed that Federick Soloe, a Sinoe County community leader, did not attend an event in Grand Gedeh for which he had received US$240.

A day after that encounter, Teah filed a complaint against Kollie with the board. He alleged that Kollie had not denied his request because of Soloe’s failure to attend the Grand Gedeh event. Instead, Kollie was demanding a bribe before issuing his check.

“I write to officially inform the board that Roberto Kollie is in the constant [habit] of holding my documents without turning [them] over to the rightful committee that has the authority to review [them],” Teah said in his complaint letter. “My… document was kept for more than one month because I didn’t promise him a share of the project cost.”

Kollie was suspended in January last year, two months after the complaint, and the board immediately asked the Forestry Development Authority (FDA) to investigate.

Teah told investigators that he allegedly gave Kollie US$600 as a kickback, which Kollie denies. Then Teah said Soloe had attended the dedication of a town hall in Dougee Town, Grand Gedeh County, refuting Kollie’s claim.

Soloe corroborated Teah’s testimony, claiming he had attended the event but arrived late. However, he told the FDA investigators that he only received US$150, corroborating Kollie’s claim.

Based on the evidence, the FDA cleared Kollie of all allegations, concluding a four-month investigation. The regulator instructed the board to reinstate Kollie. It found no evidence that he solicited US$600 or any kickbacks. There was no evidence of delayed check payments, and Soloe’s testimony justified Kollie’s doubt in questioning Teah.

The National Benefit Sharing Trust Board collects funding from the government that logging concessioners pay, disburses the money to affected communities, and oversees its expenditure. Picture credit: James Harding Giahyue

“The committee determined that the query operates to enhance the integrity of the board as opposed to disrespecting its authorities,” the investigation report said. “The nature of evidence presented was mostly speculative.”

The investigators recommended that Kollie be reinstated. They further recommended that the board hold a retreat to review its roles and responsibilities and conduct an audit within three months.

Now exonerated, Kollie thought that his nightmare had ended. He could push forward with his reform agenda.

“I felt relieved that I was exonerated from allegations that had the propensity to damage my professional career and negative image on my family,” Kollie said. “I had hope that my return to work could pave the way for massive reform at the [board], given that many of the accountability issues that I flagged were captured in the investigation report.”

But Kollie’s nightmare was far from over. Instead of reinstating him, the board terminated his contract, saying that it had expired.

Conspiracy

Kollie suspected that Teah’s allegation against him was only a smokescreen because he had been a pain in the buttocks. In September 2024, Kollie and other officials of the board found out that the Dougee town hall project was incomplete, despite a report from the CFDC that the project was finished. Subsequently, the monitoring team compelled Teah, his accuser, to sign a commitment to complete the unfinished town hall within a specified period.

Kollie suspected the board was conspiring against him, too. In January last year, Solomon Peters, its chairman, presented a US$3,294 budget to celebrate the Ziadue and Teekpeh clans’ customary deed acquisition in River Cess. He advised the board against reviewing Peters’ budget for three reasons: One, Peters had not completed certain projects in River Cess, a requirement for him to get further payment. Two, the board’s window for budget submission had closed. And Ziadue and Teekpeh clans’ deed celebration was a land matter, not a forestry project.

Here: St. Solomon Peters, the chairman of the board. Above: Roberto Kollie, embattled head of the secretariat of the National Benefit Sharing Trust Board. The DayLight/James Giahyue and Esau J. Farr

The board ignored Kollie’s advice and approved Peters’ budget, though Kollie abstained from the process.

An email, seen by The DayLight, confirmed Kollie’s suspicion of the board’s plot to remove him. In the communication, Andrew Zelemen, a community forest union leader, with the highest representation on the board, discussed the conspiracy.

“I… realized that there is a plan to remove Mr. Kollie from the board due to his critical stance on some decisions that have been made by the chairperson of the board, who is also a [community forest] official,” the email read.

“These decisions, it is believed, often favored the communities, but sometimes did not align with best practices, and the secretariat, headed by Roberto, is always critical of these decisions.”

If Zelemen’s email was revealing, then text messages and WhatsApp conversations between Kollie and Peters in July and August were explosive.

On an evening last March, Peters met Kollie at a bar in 72^nd, Paynesville, while the FDA investigation proceeded. In an audio recording obtained by The DayLight, Peters can be heard trying to reach a compromise with Kollie.

“If it is left with me, these issues that are going around will not come out among us anymore. I don’t like for it to come to my mind. That is the reason why I sent the texts that you, Andrew [Zelemen], and myself meet and discussed, so we can find means to solve it,” Peters suggested.

Kollie rejected the chairman of the board’s proposal and urged him to hold on until the investigation was completed. The allegations were too grave to be swept under the carpet, as they concerned his reputation. National and International partners had heard of the matter, and it would be good to see it finalized.

Teah, Kollie’s accuser, walked in and sat near Peters without saying anything. Shortly after that, Kollie left the bar, fearing incrimination. Teah did not respond to The DayLight’s queries.

But that was not the only Kollie-Peters encounter. On Thursday, July 31, at 11:50 pm last year, Peters engaged Kollie for a “friendly” conversation, according to a Facebook chat between the pair, obtained by The DayLight.

“What would be your top priority on a list of many with regard to the foregoing? What would you wish I could initiate in favor of your top priority?” Peters began.

“I’m saying this because I have had a series of discussions with many interested parties, finding an alternative approach to an amicable resolution, but I sometimes get quenched by certain actions and information,” Peters said. He appeared to reference the board’s refusal to reinstate Kollie, defying the FDA, a decision that forestry actors had criticized.

The controversial town hall in Dougee Town, Grand Gedeh County. The DayLight/James Giahyue

“I am not sure a fight can better address our situation,” Peters added.

Kollie replied, starting with pay and benefits.

“The first thing I would appreciate from you is if you consider that I am entitled to my May and June salary, including communication allowances for February to July.

“That is a very good beginning for a very good dialogue,” Kollie added.

“Rest assured,” Peters replied, ending that day’s chat.

The negotiation, it turns out, did not hold. Kollie filed a complaint with the Ministry of Labor for “unfair labor practice.” He seeks reinstatement and settlement of unpaid wages.

Kollie argues that his contract was continued, as the board paid him several months after January last year, when his contract was supposed to have expired.

Peters did not respond to detailed queries for his side of the story, citing the case before the ministry.

The story was a Community of Forest and Environmental Journalists of Liberia (CoFEJ) production.

Illegal Sand Miners Leave Beach after Investigation

February 5, 2026

Top: Drone picture showing deserted sand deposits, mangroves, and grass growing on the abandoned mining site. The DayLight/Samuel Jabba

By Harry Browne and Samuel Jabba

SEAVIEW – Illegal miners, who ravaged a beachfront in the Robertsfield Highway community of Gbengbar Town for over a decade, have left the area, following residents’ persistence, authorities’ actions, and a DayLight investigation.

Last December, The DayLight reported that the miners allegedly threatened to kill residents of the Seaview community for opposing their illegal activities. The community involved the police, the Environmental Protection Agency, and the Ministry of Mines and Energy, which shut down the illegal operations.

“On behalf of the community, I want to say a big thank you to the government of Liberia for intervening,” said Victor Sumo, a Seaview resident and lecturer at the University of Liberia.

“We also appreciate The DayLight for helping us to expose every illegal activity. The drone that was flown and key photos taken exposed them clearly.”

After a DayLight investigation, the Ministry of Mines arrested and jailed Jacob Dolo, the illegal miners’ ringleader.

Upon his release days later, Dolo signed a commitment not to mine in the Seaview area again, according to Agatius Cooker, Inspector General, Ministry of Mines. Dolo confirmed the information.

It is not the first time that the illegal miners have stopped operating—only to later return. Last May, soldiers of the Armed Forces of Liberia removed them from the beach, seizing their tools.

However, they returned five months later and intensified their activities. The illicit miners had operated in the area since 2014, two years after the government banned beach sand mining.

To prevent the recurrence of that situation, residents have set up a task force to monitor beach activities. Samuel G. Ford, the director of Community Policing at the Liberia National Police, created awareness in the area.

Above and here: Views of the abandoned illegal sand mining site after the jailing of Jacob Dolo, the illegal miners’ ringleader. The DayLight/Samuel Jabba

‘Thank God for The DayLight’

Reporters visited the infamous ‘Block-40’ mining site, located between the beach and a swamp. Back in October, miners uploaded sand in pickup trucks, while others transferred sand from the beach. This time around, the site was a ghost town.

Reporters observed nature reclaiming the illegal sand mine and its environment. Sand deposits lay deserted, the ocean was refilling a gigantic canal the miners dug to transfer sand from the beach. Makeshift shelters were demolished. Grass grew everywhere. At least one squirrel appeared to have observed the noticeable absence of activities, running across the site.

While the illegal miners expressed grievances over the situation, residents were full of praise for The DayLight.

“When they came in, I was really overlooking them to admit the fact. I thought that they could not make,” said Garwool Baysah, a resident. “I tell God thank you for the DayLight. They did extremely well for us.”

This story is produced by The DayLight, with support from the Embassy of Ireland through Integrity Watch Liberia. The DayLight maintained editorial independence over its content, which does not reflect the position of the Embassy of Ireland or Integrity Watch Liberia.

Tag: Liberia

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