Liberia stands at a moral and political crossroads. The nation’s spiraling drug epidemic, once whispered about in back alleys and family circles, has erupted into full public view. But it is not just the scale of addiction—nearly one million affected, mostly youth—that has shocked the conscience of the country. It is the revelation that 90% of recently arrested drug peddlers are women. This statistic has shattered assumptions, ignited fierce debate, and forced a reckoning with the uncomfortable truth: the crisis is not only consuming our children—it is implicating our mothers.
From Victims to Perpetrators: A Painful Shift
For years, women were seen as collateral damage in Liberia’s drug war—mothers mourning addicted sons, sisters pleading for justice, daughters trapped in cycles of abuse. But the recent arrests, made through coordinated citizen-police operations, have upended that narrative. The face of drug trafficking is no longer faceless. It is familiar. And that familiarity cuts deep.
WomenVoices Newspaper, long a champion of women’s rights, has taken a controversial stand: naming and shaming the women arrested for drug peddling. Publisher Helen Nah Sammie’s words are unflinching: “We cannot protect women who destroy other women’s children.” Her stance has sparked outrage and applause in equal measure. But it has also reignited a critical question: can advocacy exist without accountability?
Citizen Action: When Government Falters, Communities Rise
Across Liberia, the response has been swift and grassroots. In Ganta City’s Glenyluu Community, residents arrested a notorious dealer, Lisa Dennis, with 1kg of marijuana. The operation, supported by the Liberia Drugs Enforcement Agency (LDEA), was not just a tactical win—it was a symbol of rising public frustration. When the LDEA lacked basic materials to process the arrest, local NGO leaders stepped in. The message was clear: Liberians are done waiting.
From Monrovia to Sanniquellie, women and youth are mobilizing. Black-clad marches, radio campaigns, and neighborhood patrols are replacing government inertia. The Progressive Youth of Nimba’s “Say No to Drugs” initiative is urging schools to implement counseling programs and parents to speak openly with their children. These are not symbolic gestures—they are survival strategies.
Lip Service or Leadership?
President Joseph Boakai’s administration has declared drug abuse a national public health emergency and unveiled a comprehensive Anti-Drug Action Plan. But critics argue the plan lacks urgency and teeth. “The president spoke of change, but we see no change,” said activist Hawa Johnson. Her words echo the sentiment of thousands who marched through Monrovia demanding real action—not rhetoric.
The arrest of Lisa Dennis, and the community’s insistence on her prosecution, is a microcosm of national sentiment. Liberians are no longer content with promises. They want prosecutions, rehabilitation centers, and systemic reform. They want leadership that matches their courage.
Mothers at the Crossroads
Perhaps the most haunting aspect of this crisis is its emotional toll. The image of mothers selling poison to other mothers’ children is not just tragic—it’s transformative. It forces us to confront the socioeconomic desperation, the erosion of communal values, and the failure of institutions that allowed this reality to take root.
But it also offers a path forward. If women can be part of the problem, they can be the heart of the solution. Campaigners like Madam Vickey Cooper are proving that. Her pledge to work with law enforcement and mobilize security networks is a blueprint for citizen-led reform.
A Nation Awakens
Liberia’s drug crisis is no longer a silent epidemic—it is a national awakening. The arrests, the marches, the radio shows, and the community patrols are not isolated events. They are the pulse of a country reclaiming its future.
The question now is not whether Liberia will act. It is whether its leaders will match the resolve of its people. Because the war on drugs is no longer just a government mandate—it is a citizen crusade. And the time for half-measures has passed.
Let the reckoning begin.
