By George Kronnisanyon Werner (former Education Minister)
This morning, Liberia woke to the kind of headline that can make even the most exhausted citizen lift their head with a sense of possibility. Residents of Grand Bassa reported that a strange liquid—believed to be crude oil—was seeping from the ground. The EPA rushed to the scene with cameras. When NOCAL and the Ministry of Mines & Energy heard the news, they appeared displeased that any public announcement had been made before proper scientific verification.
The Liberia Petroleum Refining Company (LPRC) also moved toward the site, because unlike the EPA, LPRC has the petroleum-testing laboratory needed to determine whether the substance is crude oil, some other hydrocarbon, or simply organic matter common in swampy terrain. In a country where hardship is deep and unrelenting, even the rumor of good news spreads quickly. But Liberia’s history warns us not to confuse possibility with proof.
By mid-morning, social media was already flooded with short video clips and hurried posts from residents in Compound Two, Grand Bassa County, where the alleged seep reportedly occurred. In several videos, townspeople could be seen gathering around a shallow pool of dark liquid, dipping sticks and plastic containers into it, unsure of what they were looking at but convinced it was worth filming. Local bloggers and community reporters amplified the scene, describing it as “oil pulling from the ground,” though none could confirm its origin.
In a port corridor like Buchanan, where tankers move daily and petroleum products circulate through both formal and informal channels, no one can say with confidence what the substance truly is. It may be a natural seep. It may be residue washed in from nearby industrial activity. It could be leakage from a tanker or petroleum hidden and poorly stored by someone avoiding official channels. Until LPRC’s laboratory completes proper chemical testing, Grand Bassa sits between hope and uncertainty—an emotional geography Liberia knows too well.
We have been at this crossroads before. Our national story is full of moments when discoveries—real or rumored—generated excitement but delivered little for ordinary citizens. In the 1970s, seismic surveys offshore Liberia hinted at the possibility of hydrocarbon traps. That moment sparked early “black gold fever,” but political instability and weak institutions snuffed out the excitement; no commercial wells were drilled.
In the decades that followed, Liberia became one of the world’s largest iron ore exporters, and our hills and rivers produced gold and diamonds in abundance. Yet war turned these blessings into curses, fueling conflict, displacement, and economic collapse. Our timber resources later caught the world’s attention, but in the form of UN sanctions in 2003, when global investigations linked logging operations to armed groups and illicit networks. Even after the war, concession reforms struggled, and communities saw little benefit.
The most dramatic national excitement came between 2009 and 2012, when African Petroleum’s Narina-1 well and major seismic activities by Chevron, ExxonMobil, and Tullow Oil suggested Liberia might be on the verge of a significant offshore oil breakthrough. ExxonMobil paid $120 million to acquire rights in Block 13—an extraordinary sign of investor confidence.
Yet none of the wells produced commercially viable results. By 2015, global oil prices collapsed, and NOCAL itself nearly fell into bankruptcy. Around the same time, the Putu iron ore concession in Grand Gedeh, once hailed as a transformational 2.4-billion-tonne deposit, collapsed under the weight of global commodity price shocks. More recently, Liberia saw viral videos of an apparent oil seep in Grand Kru, which, after proper testing, turned out not to be crude oil but organic soil residue with hydrocarbons common in marshy environments.
Across these episodes—from offshore surveys in the 1970s, to the resource-fueled conflicts of the 1990s, to the failed oil excitement of the 2010s, to the many gold and forest discoveries that enriched a few but failed communities—the pattern has remained painfully consistent. Liberia experiences early excitement, institutional confusion, political speculation, and then eventual disappointment. This is why today’s reported seep must be handled with scientific rigor, not celebratory impulse.
The EPA’s presence may have been well-intentioned, but it is LPRC that has the laboratory needed to determine whether this substance is petroleum. NOCAL must interpret the geological implications; Mines & Energy must coordinate verification and communication; and EPA must protect the environment. A discovery of this magnitude cannot be announced by whichever agency reaches the scene first with a camera crew. Our institutions must work in harmony, not competition.
There is an ancient wisdom that speaks beautifully to this moment. The Hebrew scriptures declare: “How lovely on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news.” This morning, that verse felt Liberian. Good news—if true, if verified—refreshes a weary nation and lifts the spirit of a people who have lived through more uncertainty than any modern state should bear. But scripture also teaches that good news must be grounded in truth. Hope without verification is not news; it is noise. Liberia must discipline its excitement with science.
Other African nations offer lessons worth emulating. Ghana transformed its Jubilee oil discovery into a national development pillar not because of luck but because of strong petroleum laws, transparent oversight, and political restraint. Botswana turned its diamonds into hospitals, schools, and one of the most stable economies in Africa because it invested first in institutions, not extraction.
Liberia must do the same. We are blessed with abundant natural wealth—iron ore of global quality, significant gold belts, valuable hardwood, potentially oil-bearing basins, and vast unmapped geological terrain. But as international evidence consistently shows, natural wealth without strong governance becomes a curse. Our problem has never been geology; it has always been governance.
If LPRC’s tests confirm that the Compound Two seep is indeed crude oil, Liberia must act with caution, wisdom, and seriousness. We must manage expectations, protect the environment, communicate responsibly, and evaluate economic viability through globally recognized scientific standards.
But if testing reveals that the substance is not crude oil, today’s excitement is still a gift—not because of what was found, but because of what it reminded us: we must build strong systems before the next moment of discovery arrives. We must establish a national verification protocol that prevents agencies from competing for public attention and instead aligns them around scientific truth and national interest.
Liberia has been here before—many times. We know what happens when excitement outpaces evidence. This time, let us choose a different path. Let LPRC conduct the tests. Let NOCAL interpret the geology. Let Mines & Energy coordinate the findings. Let EPA ensure environmental integrity. And let government speak only after verification. Good news is lovely on the mountains, but in Liberia it must also be credible in the laboratory, defensible in the ministries, and beneficial to the communities whose lives depend on it.
Only then can discovery become development. Only then can Liberia finally break the cycle of hope, confusion, and disappointment that has long shadowed its natural resource story.
