By Sidiki Fofana | Truth in Ink
“Woe unto the shepherds of Israel that do feed themselves! Should not the shepherds feed the flocks?”, Ezekiel 34:2
When Augustine Ngafuan returned as Minister of Finance, the only Liberian to hold the post under two different presidents in recent memory, his arrival was greeted as salvation.
He replaced Boima Kamara, the soft-spoken technocrat who resigned not because he was incompetent, but because the burden of managing a broke economy amid political interference was too heavy for any honest man to carry. Kamara left quietly, but in truth his resignation was a silent protest, a confession that the system itself was unworkable.
And so, the new redeemer of the economy arrived and wasted no time in giving hope; Ngafuan promised no more salary delays, payments by the 20th of each month, and possible increments for the lowest-paid workers.
At first, it worked. Salaries came on time, confidence returned, and civil servants believed.
But today, the story is different. Salaries are delayed for months in some institutions. Civil servants, crushed by inflation, see their wages shrink daily. “I used to buy a bag of rice from my month salary. Today, that same salary can’t even cover half,” said Martha Kollie, a junior clerk.
Meanwhile increment for those at the bottom of the pay grade though promised, remain a mirage, yet senior officials allegedly pocket between L$2–3 million monthly, far above the US$8,000 harmonization ceiling introduced under George Weah’s government. “This is state-sanctioned inequality,” argued Professor Samuel Toe, a political economist.
This betrayal is not unique. Liberia’s financial history is littered with “redeemers” who turned disappointments. Emmanuel Shaw, once hailed as Doe’s economic genius, ended his tenure under accusations of profiteering and greed. Amara Konneh, with his reformist zeal under Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, spoke the language of Washington technocrats, but many Liberians at home accused him of abandoning bread-and-butter realities for donor applause. And now Ngafuan. “He started like a messiah but now looks like just another minister swallowed by greed,” said Joseph Kartee, a retired civil servant.
The harder question on the lips of all Liberians is “did Ngafuan lie”? Or “was he simply another victim of Liberia’s poisoned political culture”, where good men enter with promises and leave with excuses?
“Every time a minister promises reform and fails, it widens the gap between government and the governed,” noted Economist Amelia Gbala.
Ngafuan’s words once carried redemption. Today, they sound like betrayal. And Liberia asked, “was this the failure of one man, or proof that the system itself is designed to fail”?
Yes, Ngafuan lied, if not with his words, then with his silence. He may not have invented Liberia’s greed, but by tolerating it, he blessed it.
The truth is bigger than Ngafuan. It is about a system that swallowed Kamara’s caution, corrupted Shaw’s brilliance, exhausted Konneh’s zeal, and has now consumed Ngafuan’s promises. It is about a people who clap when new ministers speak, only to sigh months later when reality crushes hope.
Truth in Ink declares that until Liberia uproots this spoiled system, no finance minister, past, present, or future, can be more than a prisoner of a failed system.
