By: Dr. Abdulaye Dukule
The Trump administration’s decision to shut down USAID and halt all international aid has sent shockwaves across the world. For Liberia, the impact is particularly severe due to the country’s deep dependency on foreign assistance since the end of the civil war.
In Monrovia, the reaction has been one of panic. Both the Legislature and the Executive have scrambled to respond, but their actions expose a troubling reality: the Liberian government has built an unsustainable system that benefits the few at the expense of the nation.
The House of Representatives proposed cutting their salaries in half, while the Senate formed a committee to assess how ministries would adjust to the new financial constraints. The Executive, for its part, announced salary and benefits cuts of 7 to 10 percent.
At first glance, these moves appear responsible. A deeper look, however, reveals them to be largely symbolic.
Cosmetic Fixes, Deep-Rooted Problems
In the Executive branch, the announced salary reductions are superficial. Government officials continue to receive free scratch cards and gasoline—perks that originated during the war when funds were scarce but have since become entrenched. Over time, these benefits have only expanded, with some officials receiving housing allowances and personal generators, further straining the national budget.
In the Legislature, the response has been even more disingenuous. Rather than addressing their own bloated expenditures, lawmakers deflected responsibility by forming a committee to consult with ministries. This is the same body where some members—ironically calling themselves the Rule of Law Caucus—suggested a 50 percent salary cut, a move that appears more like a publicity stunt than a genuine commitment to reform.
How Did We Get Here?
Liberia’s financial recklessness did not begin overnight. In the first post-war government, President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf raised judicial salaries in an attempt to curb corruption. This triggered a domino effect: soon, every branch of government was demanding higher pay. By the end of her administration, salaries of $20,000 per month were not uncommon. The three branches of government effectively colluded to drain national resources, much like vampires feeding on the nation’s lifeblood.
Liberia had a chance to reset after the war—to rebuild government structures that served the people rather than a privileged few. Instead, we entrenched a culture of excess.
The Boakai Administration: Will Anything Change?
President Joseph Boakai has taken some steps to address corruption, issuing a handful of suspensions in response to credible allegations. But these actions barely scratch the surface of Liberia’s deeper problems: mismanagement, waste and corruption.
The Trump administration’s decision to cut aid, while painful, presents an opportunity. Without a financial safety net from foreign donors, Liberia’s leaders must finally confront the consequences of decades of fiscal irresponsibility. But will Boakai rise to the occasion? Will he finally take bold action where his predecessors failed?
If he does not, his legacy will not be one of reform, but of inaction and complicity.
