CAPITOL HILL, Monrovia – Montserrado County Senator Abraham Darius Dillon has reignited his long‑running campaign to slash the salaries of Liberian lawmakers, re‑introducing a bill that would cap the pay of all lawmakers at a maximum of US$5,000 per month.
Speaking to journalists at the Capitol after a heated Senate debate on his proposed bill on Tuesday, December 2, 2025, Dillon said he is “tired talking” and now wants the Legislature to finally legislate what he has been preaching since he first entered the Senate in 2019.
“We’re tired talking; we’re tired using it to talk. Let’s pass the law where we set our salary. I am proposing US$5,000 maximum, especially for lawmakers,” Dillon declared.
“If we pass that law, and we live by it, 103 lawmakers from the Senate and the House, it will save the country US$4 million every year just by that courageous action. Every year.”
Liberia has 30 senators and 73 representatives.
Old Fight, New Budget
This is not Dillon’s first attempt. In 2019, during his first stint in the Senate, he submitted a similar bill seeking to cut legislative compensation; it never made it out of committee. At the time, civil‑society groups praised the idea but the political will inside the Capitol quickly evaporated.
Dillon nonetheless made a personal show of the reform by announcing that he would limit his own take‑home to US$5,000 and donate the balance to public causes—a move that endeared him to many frustrated voters and cemented his reputation as the self‑styled “Light” in the Legislature.
According to multiple media investigations over the years, the real monthly compensation of Liberian lawmakers—combining base salary, allowances and benefits—has often ranged well above US$10,000, despite periodic “harmonization” exercises. While figures vary by source and year, there has been no formal law capping the total package.
The draft FY2026 budget, currently before the Legislature, also shows no major structural cut in the overall legislative wage bill, even as the government pushes austerity and efficiency messages in other sectors. Dillon says that contradiction is precisely why his bill is urgent.
“Find Majority Lawmakers to Fake Like Me”
Anticipating critics who have long accused him of grandstanding, Dillon challenged his colleagues to join him—sarcastically inviting them to “fake” with him if they doubt his sincerity.
“We said public officials should not make anything more than US$5,000. And some people say, ‘Oh, don’t mind that Dillon man, he’s fake,’” he said. “Fine. Find majority lawmakers to fake like me, let’s agree to make US$5,000 and see if the US$4 million that we will save the country every year will be fake.
It will put our US$4 million in agriculture, in health, in education, or something tangible for the country. Let’s see if the dividends will be fake.”
He argued that once lawmakers show courage to cut their own pay, it will become easier to review top salaries across the state.
“That courage would not be difficult to find to cut the President’s salary, to cut the Vice President’s salary,” he said. “We [could] say public officials should not make anything more than US$5,000… Subsequently, we can go to the Judiciary; we can go to the Executive.”
Dillon also wants the Legislature to use its power over state‑owned enterprises and regulatory bodies.
“We can now sit down and determine State‑Owned Enterprises (SOEs) and the other public entities… the Legislature should be able to determine their salaries, especially the higher echelons of these institutions,” he said. “You know how many persons in government and public entities make far more money than lawmakers? I’m not doing this to get even with people. I’m doing this as a pacesetter.”
“The Executive Cooked the Food; We Must Decide the Spoons”
The senator used a kitchen metaphor to explain the Legislature’s constitutional role in the budget process.
“The Executive has cooked the food for the country for 2026. This food is the draft budget for 2026,” he said. “This whole draft budget, I call it one big bowl.
Our authority here is to bring all the other small, small bowls and decide which bowl gets how many spoons. We are to determine what gets in each bowl; then we give them back to the Executive to distribute them.”
If lawmakers fail to allocate fairly and then fail to audit outcomes, he warned, citizens are right to blame them.
“If we don’t dish the food out properly and we don’t have the courage to ask, ‘We put five spoons in that bowl, how come only three spoons reached it?’ the people will always hold us accountable—and understandably,” he said. “You can’t blame the people.”
Frustration With Civil Society and the Media
Dillon expressed open frustration that his proposal has not attracted the same public mobilization that other political fights have.
“When people thought that bill was dead, it has resurrected,” he said of the latest Senate debate. “Today you saw the sentiments and the emotions and the cross‑debates on the floor. It’s coming back next week for determination.”
He then turned his criticism on civil‑society organizations and citizen‑pressure groups.
“Civil society people are watching. Some of them followed the deliberations today. Have you seen one civil society person or group come here and say, ‘We support that bill’? No.
Have you seen ‘Citizens United For Their Own Good’ come here and say, ‘We are in support of that bill’? But every day there were citizens demonstrating here for who will be Speaker or who will not be Speaker. Since we got a new Speaker, what have they benefitted?”
He accused some citizens of defending officials accused of corruption rather than backing anti‑graft institutions.
“When the LACC invites one public official for corruption allegations, you don’t see government officials carrying placards to the LACC office against the LACC,” he said pointedly. “The very citizens carry placards: ‘Citizens United in Defense of the Person LACC Invited’ to investigate for corruption.”
“My Salary Should Not Be Tied to Humanitarian Work”
Addressing one of the common justifications offered by lawmakers—that they need high pay to respond to constituents’ constant requests for assistance—Dillon rejected the logic.
“Even if I were justifiably making US$1 million, it should be my goodwill to determine whether I want to give somebody something from salary or not,” he said. “But my salary should not be tied to humanitarian [work]. Especially when I am in the position and authority to adjust my salary so that the excess can go to other needs of the country, where people won’t be seen begging.”
“I cannot justify my high salary because people can come to my office and beg me for assistance,” he added. “I don’t want to make myself look like Mr. Perfect. But we can do it. It only takes grace and courage. And it takes your support, too.”
He urged journalists to question every lawmaker on record.
“Each of you here, you have two senators and one representative,” he told reporters. “Speak to your lawmakers… ask them: ‘This Senator Dillon bill—what’s your position? Will you support it? Will you put it on the floor?’”
Long Odds, But Not Giving Up
Dillon admitted he has at times felt that Liberians themselves do not want the bill.
“That is why at certain time, I said to myself that I am tired talking about that bill because it seems the Liberian people don’t want it being passed,” he said.
But he insists he will keep pushing, even if alone.
“I’m not going to get tired. I’m going to keep pushing these things,” he vowed. “There are some things you can push alone until you get outcomes. There are some things that require your push too as well.”
As the Senate prepares to take up the measure again next week, the political math remains uncertain. Many lawmakers are quietly hostile to any move that would slash their pay; others fear the bill is popular but politically suicidal behind closed doors.
For now, Dillon is betting that in a US$1.2 billion budget year, the public will finally see that how much their leaders pay themselves is not a side issue—but a central test of whether the talk of “Rescue” and “reform” will ever translate into shared sacrifice.
