By George S. Tengbeh
It has often been alleged that since the founding of Liberia, no political party has ever firmly established a permanent headquarters built and owned solely by the party as an institution. While some accounts suggest that the True Whig Party (TWP) once had such a base, claims persist that the land on which it was built may have belonged to one of its founding members rather than the party itself.
Unverified reports also indicate that Liberian politicians generally shy away from constructing dedicated party institutions during their time in leadership, possibly out of concern over public scrutiny regarding the sources of funding. As a result, many political parties are said to rely on rented or leased properties, often described as inadequate or temporary.
According to some unconfirmed accounts, the land currently housing the National Patriotic Party (NPP) headquarters is believed to belong to the party’s standard-bearer, rather than the institution. Similar claims have been made about the All Liberian Party (ALP), where it is alleged that their headquarters is either rented, leased, or sits on land privately owned by a leader of the party.
These reports, if true, highlight ongoing concerns about the lack of sustainability and institutionalization within Liberia’s political parties, issues sometimes attributed to sentiment, selfishness, and greed. This raises further questions: what becomes of the party dues that are supposedly collected? Could it be that parties avoid investing those funds into long-term infrastructure out of fear or reluctance? Such questions remain open and largely unanswered.
The Story of the Sycamore Tree, as told through the fall of the CDC headquarters, is not just the story of one party; it is the story of Liberian politics as a whole. It is a story marked by selfishness, greed, and forgetfulness.
On August 23, 2025, this story was retold dramatically and painfully, leaving the youths, once the lifeblood of the struggle, in ruins of frustration and anguish.
On the morning of August 23, 2025, I stood still and watched a painful story unfold before the eyes of our nation. The Congress for Democratic Change (CDC), once hailed as the political home of the struggling masses, the youths, the foot soldiers, and the dreamers of change, saw its headquarters demolished under the orders of the Liberian courts. Excavators dug into the earth, iron gates crashed down, and walls that once carried the chants of hope and victory fell into heaps of dust.
For many, this was not just the destruction of a building. It was the fall of a sycamore tree, a tree that once gave shade to thousands of young Liberians who believed in a cause larger than themselves. And as I stood watching, I could not help but reflect that the story of this sycamore tree is not only the story of a political party, but also a lesson to all of us, a reminder that what we neglect today will return tomorrow as sorrow.
The Roots of the Sycamore Tree
The sycamore tree is known for its wide branches and deep roots. In the days when the CDC was new, when it was nothing more than an opposition party filled with the cries of the marginalized, that tree was planted. Its roots were not in money or power, but in the loyalty of young men and women who carried the party on their shoulders. These were the foot soldiers who marched under the sun, who faced teargas, who spent their little resources to attend rallies, and who believed that this party could lift Liberia out of the shadows.
Like a sycamore tree, the party grew strong. It stood tall in 2005, in 2011, and in 2017. In that year, the tree bore fruit, and the CDC finally tasted the sweetness of state power. The youths who watered the roots with their sacrifices cheered with pride. But as the fruits ripened, something dangerous began to happen. The roots, the very foundation of the tree, were neglected.
The Demolition and the Court of Law
The physical demolition that took place in Congo Town was the final blow in a long legal battle. The courts had ruled that the property belonged to the Bernard estate, and after years of appeals and dismissals, the Supreme Court confirmed this ruling. On that morning, sheriffs, police officers, and machines moved in to enforce the law.
To the ordinary Liberian, this was a simple matter of property rights. To the CDC’s faithful, it was a betrayal of history, a reminder that even the mightiest tree can fall when it forgets its roots. Authorities even arrested individuals on the site, discovering firearms, ammunition, and dangerous items that made the air heavy with suspicion. The government declared that it was only enforcing the law, yet for the party’s supporters, it felt like watching their sanctuary burn.
The Choices of Leadership
The sycamore tree fell not just because of external axes but also because of the decisions made within. It is painful to say this, but the truth must be told: one million U.S. dollars could have secured that property permanently when the CDC was in power. That amount was nothing compared to the resources the party commanded in government. The dues of the common party members alone could have secured the property even when they were in opposition. But leadership chose the path of friendships over law, compromise over compliance, and comfort over accountability.
I recall vividly how members used to say, “We will never be homeless again as a party.” Yet, instead of investing in permanence, resources were scattered in short-term ventures and personal alliances. The law was ignored, and today the party pays the price. Like the sycamore tree, it was not drought or storm that killed it, but neglect at its very roots.
Lessons from the Story of the Sycamore Tree
This is not the first time political institutions have faced such trials. In South Africa, the African National Congress (ANC), after years of liberation struggle, invested heavily in permanent properties and archives to preserve its history.
In Ghana, the New Patriotic Party (NPP) faced internal conflicts but emerged stronger by formalizing structures and securing long-term stability. In the United States, the Democratic and Republican parties maintain permanent headquarters that serve as both operational hubs and symbols of endurance.
The lesson is clear: sustainable political institutions cannot be built on temporary grounds. They require foresight, discipline, and respect for the sacrifices of their supporters. A sycamore tree may give shade for decades, but if its roots are cut or neglected, the tree will wither and fall. The CDC’s eviction is therefore not just about losing a building; it is a cautionary tale for every Liberian political movement.
The Symbolism of Betrayal
As the bulldozers roared, many youths wept openly. Their sorrow was not just for the walls collapsing, but for the memories they carried, the rallies, the chants of “Change for Hope,” the victories celebrated within those grounds. They asked themselves hard questions:
What happened to the dues we paid as members and lawmakers?
Did the leaders betray the very cadres who built the party from nothing?
Did personal ambition overshadow collective responsibility?
The sycamore tree is a story of betrayal. When leaders forget the mantle of youths who stood by them in their weakest days, when they neglect the soldiers who once fought for them when they were nobodies, they betray not only the party but the very soul of the nation.
My Reflection
As a Labour and Environmental Justice Advocate, I do not tell this story to shame one party, but to awaken a nation. The fall of the CDC headquarters must be seen as a national lesson. It teaches us that no matter how powerful we become, if we fail to build institutions on law and loyalty, we will crumble. It reminds us that political parties are not personal properties but institutions of the people, held in trust for generations to come.
Going forward, CDC must rebuild, not just a structure, but its relationship with its members. It must use the story of the sycamore tree as a mirror: to reform its finances, to secure permanent grounds, and to honor the loyalty of its youths. Other parties, too, must learn. Liberia cannot afford to let its political movements be houses built on sand.
The Human Sorrow
In truth, what hurt most was not the dust of the demolition but the sorrow in the eyes of young Liberians who had believed. Some stood silently, some cried, some clenched their fists, and others simply walked away, whispering to themselves that the dream had died. But dreams do not die with buildings. They live on in the hearts of those who carry them.
Yet, for those young men and women, this demolition was a message: that their loyalty had been overlooked, their sacrifices forgotten. It was the image of a sycamore tree falling after years of shade, leaving its children exposed to the sun.
The National Lesson
Liberia must learn. Our politics cannot continue to be built on short-term gains and personal ambitions. We must build parties that can stand the test of law, leadership, and time. We must teach our leaders that loyalty is not just demanded but must also be returned. The dues of members must be accounted for, assets must be protected, and the law must always be respected.
Like the sycamore tree, our institutions must spread roots deep into the soil of legality, accountability, and transparency. Only then can they withstand the storms of time.
The Tree Can Rise Again from the Roots (Political parties and other institutions must learn)
As I pen this story, I do so with sorrow but also with hope. The fall of the CDC headquarters is the fall of a sycamore tree, but from its stump can rise a new tree, stronger and wiser than before. If CDC and other political parties in Liberia take this lesson seriously, they can rebuild, not just buildings, but trust, loyalty, and permanence. The demolition should not be the end. It should be the beginning of a new consciousness.
A consciousness that tells every leader: do not forget your roots, for the day you do, the tree will fall. The sycamore tree has fallen, but its story must echo through Liberia’s history. And if we listen closely, we will hear its whisper: Never forget your roots, never neglect your soldiers, and never trade law for convenience.
‘‘The fruits of the physical tree saw good branches and leaves. The roots are still there to be dug out and replanted. The shade you enjoy today depends on the roots you protect’’ –George S Tengbeh.
About the author:
George S. Tengbeh is a Labour & Environmental Justice Advocate, researcher on climate change, and expert in Public Sector Management, Labour Economics & Policy, Governance, and Water Resource Management. He is the founder of the Liberia Labour and Governance Alliance (LILGA), a non-political civil society organization dedicated to exposing unfair labour practices and promoting good governance.
Contact me: Email: gstengbeh@gmail.com | 📞 Tel|Whatsapp: +231 880 767 070
