By George Sahr Tengbeh
“Three years of late-night study and a family debt all for a letter that says the college no longer exists.”
That was the moment Sarah, a final-year student of Business Administration, realized her dreams had been swept away by the stroke of a pen. Her school, one of the 31 institutions recently shut down by Liberia’s National Commission on Higher Education (NCHE), was declared “unaccredited” and ordered closed. Alongside it, 22 other colleges were suspended, leaving thousands of students stranded in a country where higher education is already fragile.
For Sarah, the closure was more than a bureaucratic announcement. It was a death sentence to years of sacrifice. Her widowed mother had sold their family’s half-acre of cassava farm to pay tuition. Sarah herself had worked nights at a roadside tea shop to cover her final semester fees. She was weeks away from writing her thesis when the notice arrived. “I felt my world collapsing,” Sarah recalled, her voice cracking. “I wanted to scream, but there were no words. How can you erase four years of my life in one announcement?”
A National Education Earthquake
In July 2025, the NCHE declared that 31 universities and colleges in Liberia were operating without proper accreditation, while another 22 were suspended for failing to meet minimum standards. The announcement was meant to enforce quality, but instead, it unleashed chaos.
According to The Liberian Investigator and The New Dawn Liberia, the decision affected tens of thousands of students, many in their final years of study. For families who had invested scarce resources, the news was devastating. Degrees lost their value overnight.
Years of tuition, often paid through debt or hard labor, were rendered meaningless. Liberia has long battled an education crisis. After years of civil conflict and underfunding, many institutions emerged to meet demand but fell short of quality standards. Some had inadequate faculty, no libraries, and no functioning laboratories. Others operated in rented houses with no learning facilities. But while the failures of these institutions are real, the students are paying the heaviest price.
Families in Financial Ruin
At a small house in Paynesville, the Johnson family sat around a wooden table, their faces heavy with silence. Their son, Emmanuel, was set to graduate in Civil Engineering this year. His father, a retired soldier, had taken a loan against his pension to support his education. “Now what do I tell my creditors?” the old man asked, staring at the floor. “They said education is the only way out of poverty. We believed it. We made sacrifices. And this is the reward?”
The family still owes over US$2,000 in tuition and loan payments, a staggering sum in a country where many survive on less than US$2 a day. Emmanuel is considering leaving Liberia for menial work in Côte d’Ivoire or Guinea. “This government killed my future,” he said bitterly.
The Silence of Institutions
When pressed, the NCHE defended its decision. A spokesperson told reporters that “quality cannot be compromised” and that “students must not be victims of institutions that fail to meet basic standards.” But critics argue the decision was reckless and lacked a transition plan.
Education advocates say the government should have protected students by creating pathways to transfer credits, offering scholarships to recognized universities, or setting up temporary arrangements. Instead, students were left with letters of closure and no alternatives.
Civil society groups condemned the move as another example of governance failure. “We do not disagree with the need for standards,” said a representative of the Coalition for Education Reform. “But why punish the students? Why not punish the administrators who deceived them? Students should be placed at accredited institutions, and their tuition recognized. Otherwise, you’re destroying lives.”
The Lecturers’ Plight
The closures also left hundreds of lecturers unemployed. Many had been working without proper contracts or stable pay, often earning as little as US$50–100 a month. One lecturer, who asked not to be named, said: “We were teaching without salaries sometimes. We stayed because we wanted to help these children. But now we are accused of being part of a scam. Who is the real culprit the teacher, or the government that allowed these schools to operate unchecked for years?” For many lecturers, the closures mean joining Liberia’s swelling ranks of unemployed graduates.
The Human Toll Beyond Numbers
Behind the statistics are broken hearts, broken families, and broken trust. For Liberia’s youth, education has always been presented as the ladder out of generational poverty. But with the NCHE’s closures, that ladder has collapsed. Students like Sarah now wander through Monrovia, holding folders filled with useless transcripts.
Some cry openly at government offices, pleading for reassignment. Others stay home, too ashamed to face neighbors who once celebrated their academic progress. A few, like Emmanuel, contemplate migrating illegally in search of a new beginning. “Better to wash dishes in another country than die with a useless degree here,” he said.
International Reactions
International observers have expressed concern. The World Bank, which funds education projects in Liberia, noted in its climate and education risk assessments that the country already faces “serious structural weaknesses.” The closures, while aiming at reform, may further erode trust in governance and worsen the brain drain. UNICEF, which has supported child and youth education programs, warned that disillusionment among youth could fuel instability. “When young people lose hope in education, the risk is not just economic decline but social unrest,” a spokesperson noted.
Searching for Solutions
Education experts argue that the closures should have been paired with reforms such as:
- Credit transfer programs: Allowing affected students to continue at accredited institutions without losing progress.
- Tuition compensation: Government setting up a relief fund for students whose tuition went into unaccredited colleges.
- Strengthened oversight: Ensuring no new institution opens without meeting minimum requirements.
- Student advisory boards: Giving students a voice in education policy and accreditation matters.
So far, none of these solutions has materialized.
A Student’s Plea
As the sun set over Monrovia, Sarah stood at the bus stop, clutching her faded transcript. “I just wanted to help my family,” she whispered. “I wanted to become the first to graduate. Now I don’t even know who I am anymore.” Her words echo the despair of thousands across Liberia. For them, higher education was not just about books and classrooms. It was a covenant of hope, a promise that hard work would lead to dignity. That promise has been broken.
Futures in Limbo
The NCHE’s crackdown on unaccredited institutions may have been intended to strengthen standards, but without a humane plan for students, it has become another chapter in Liberia’s long struggle with governance failure. What good is accreditation if the students, the very soul of education, are abandoned?
What kind of future does Liberia imagine if its youth are left stranded, their sacrifices mocked by official silence? For Sarah, for Emmanuel, for thousands of others, the tragedy of Liberia’s education system is no longer theoretical. It is lived. It is painful. And it demands urgent redress. Until then, Liberia risks raising a generation not of graduates, but of dreamers betrayed.
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
