By Sidiki Fofana | Truth In Ink
The name Musa Hassan Bility is no stranger in contemporary Liberian political and social circles. Hailing from one of the remote villages of Nimba County, he has steadily expanded his influence across nearly every aspect of national life. From building a business empire, to rising as a celebrated sports administrator, and now as a seasoned politician, Bility has emerged as one of Liberia’s most influential and ambitious public figures.
In politics, he served as Chairman of the Liberty Party, later chaired a national alliance, and now heads the newly formed Citizen Movement for Change ( CMC). His election as Representative of Nimba County District #7 has only added to his growing momentum toward an even bigger ambition: The presidency.
A controversial figure in the past, Bility has worked to rebrand his image, championing human rights, the rule of law, and spearheading developmental projects across the country. His supporters today include Liberians across party, religious, and ethnic lines.
But even as his star rises, Bility carries a shadow, one not of his own making, nor within his power to erase. It is a shadow shaped by deep-seated biases and discrimination: his ethnicity – Mandingo, and his religion, Islam. Varflay Dulleh , a prolific “Pen Pusher” and political scientist, says it is a deep seated ” conspiracy against Mandingos.”
According to the 2008 National Population and Housing Census¹, still the country’s most comprehensive demographic data, the Mandingo ethnic group comprises roughly 5% of Liberia’s population. They are concentrated mainly in Nimba, Lofa, Bong, Montserrado, and Grand Cape Mount counties.
Religiously, Liberia is approximately 70–75% Christian, 12–20% Muslim, with the rest practicing traditional beliefs. Most Muslims in Liberia belong to the Mandingo, Vai, Fula, and Gola communities.
“If Musa can consolidate those numbers behind his dream while others split the rest, he could make a strong showing, potentially reshaping Liberia’s political map. But such a presidency might be won not by the nation at large, but by a segment, his tribe or religion. Even so, he wouldn’t be the first to leverage such a path.”says a political analyst speaking on condition of anonymity.
Though the Constitution (Article 14) guarantees freedom of religion and citizenship rights, the political system has long excluded Muslims and certain ethnic minorities from full participation in national leadership.
In Liberia’s entire history, no Mandingo or openly Muslim candidate has come close to winning the presidency. The road to the Executive Mansion has often been blocked by subtle , and not so subtle discrimination.
Alhaji G.V. Kromah, a brilliant former Minister of Information and founder of ULIMO, ran for president in 1997 and 2005. Yet despite his credentials and wide support, his campaign was relentlessly attacked with whispers that he was “foreign” or part of a “hidden agenda.” In a BBC Africa interview, Kromah said: “It is painful to be treated as an outsider in your own land , the Mandingo have contributed immensely to this nation, and yet when it comes to leadership, we are denied.”
Alhaji Gaye Sleh Gaye, a respected Lofa businessman and politician, faced similar rejection during his senatorial bids, amid public doubts about a Muslim candidate holding high office.
In 2017, Alhaji Mohammed Sheriff, a vice-presidential aspirant, was subjected to a vicious media campaign that preyed on anti-Muslim fear.
Even today, appointments of Muslim Cabinet Ministers, Ambassadors, and Judges are often quietly resisted behind closed doors, as documented by the U.S. State Department’s 2018 International Religious Freedom Report “Members of the Mandingo ethnic group continued to report discrimination and marginalization, particularly when seeking political office or in public sector employment.”
In all honesty, the pattern of tribal and identity-based exclusion runs deeper than the Mandingo experience. Throughout Liberia’s history, promising candidates of various backgrounds have faced similar roadblocks:
- Didwho Welleh Twe, a renowned Kru nationalist, was barred from contesting the 1951 elections under fabricated accusations of foreign birth — a tactic used by President Tubman to silence a rising opposition voice.⁶
- Baccus Matthews, from the Bassa tribe and a renown politicians, and founder of the UPP, was later marginalized under Doe’s military rule.
- Even Jewel Howard-Taylor, a former Vice President with significant political clout, has faced deep tribal and gender biases in her path to leadership.
- George Weah himself was long dismissed as a “country boy, a subtle nod to class and tribal prejudice, before eventually overcoming those barriers to win the presidency.
- As historian Dr. Stephen Ellis observed in The Mask of Anarchy “The Mandingo, being primarily Muslim and historically associated with commerce, have been unfairly cast by some Liberians as foreigners or economic exploiters, even though they have been present in Liberia for centuries.”
“Some historians argue that while marginalization exists in Liberia’s politics, none is as deep or enduring as that faced by Mandingoes, rooted in both tribe and religion.”
Musa Bility’s Open Challenge
Bility himself has confronted these realities head-on in public statements. In a 2025 interview, he said: “Yes, I am Mandingo. Yes, I am Muslim. But I am also a Liberian , born and raised here. My vision for this country is not about tribe or religion. It’s about delivering results and a better future for every Liberian.”
Speaking to supporters in Saclepea (April 2025), he added: “We must judge a person by their passion, their vision, and their work , not by the accident of their birth or the faith they practice. That is the Liberia I will fight for.”
And in a 2024FPA Talk interview: If we keep the presidency as the preserve of a few tribes or religions, Liberia will never reach its full potential. My candidacy is about opening that door , not just for Mandingos or Muslims, but for every Liberian.”
Evidence of the challenges Musa’s “shadows” bring was demonstrated during his recent bid to become Speaker of the House. Many lawmakers across both voting blocs privately acknowledged him as a unifying figure, a candidate of the middle, someone who could uphold the House’s constitutional dignity by working cooperatively with the Executive while still holding it accountable. Yet, his greatest obstacle, as several legislators admitted off the record, was not his competence, but his tribe and religion.
Alarmingly, even some lawmakers from his own Nimba County Legislative Caucus , whom he had personally assisted with development initiatives in their districts , were among those making discriminatory remarks. One was overheard saying, “We want vote for Musa, but ah , can a Mandingo Muslim become the third most powerful man in the country?”
The formation of Musa’s party , the Citizen Movement Congress , has also met similar resistance. Though its launch was initially welcomed, the party faced tribal labeling during its first electoral outing: the Nimba senatorial by-election. Musa was not on the ballot, yet his party’s candidate, a Gio, was dismissed by opponents as “the Mandingo party’s candidate.”
Still, many prominent voices have come to his defense. Mr. J. Victor Nagbe, a Kru, and Mr. Jerome Gaylman, a Bassa, both respected professionals, and panelists on The Closing Argument , have publicly stated that Musa’s vision and dedication to a new Liberia far outweigh any tribal or religious bias. “There is no better qualified Liberian than Musa at this moment,” they concluded.
Perhaps with time, Musa’s shadows will be transformed into a mark of uniqueness, one that elevates, rather than diminishes, his presidential ambitions.
The Question Liberia Must Answer
Supporters of Bility argue that the political ground is shifting: “Liberians will look beyond tribe and religion. The challenges of country require men and women of proven capacity, and Musa represents such a titan,” said a member of the CMC at a recent party meeting in the UK.
A Test for Liberia’s Democracy
In many ways, Musa H. Bility’s presidential bid is not merely a personal ambition, it is a referendum on Liberia’s unfinished democratic journey.
For more than a century, identity politics rooted in tribe, religion, and regionalism have limited the scope of national leadership, depriving the republic of its full pool of talent. From Didwho Twe to G.V. Kromah, and now to Bility, each generation has tested the promise enshrined in the constitution: that all Liberians, regardless of origin or belief, are equal under the law and before the ballot.
Whether Liberia is ready, truly ready, to break this historic cycle of exclusion remains one of the defining questions of its political future.
