From a Founding Voice of the People’s Struggle
Dear Former President Weah,
I write to you not merely as a citizen, but as one of those who initiated the grassroots mobilization that elevated you to national leadership. We, the marginalized and neglected, united in defiance of entrenched elitism and crowned you—not because you were wealthier, or more educated, but because you symbolized the hope of the ordinary people. You were a son of the soil. You embodied the struggle.
We buried our pride. We muted our intellectual prowess. We endured mockery and betrayal for over 12 unbroken years, all in pursuit of a dream where power would truly rest in the hands of the people. In 2017, we delivered you the presidency—not as a favor, but as a fulfillment of a collective revolution.
Yet, to our deep disappointment, you turned your back on the very foundation of your rise. You empowered the very elites and opportunists we resisted for years. You alienated the loyal foot soldiers of the movement. You allowed our cause to be hijacked by individuals who neither understood nor respected the pain, resilience, and conviction that birthed the struggle.
Mr. President, we tried to draw your attention to this betrayal. We raised our voices respectfully and repeatedly. But you refused to listen. You dismissed our warnings. You sidelined us. In the end, we joined forces with other citizens—not because we endorsed what they represented, but because we had to defend our dignity. The power we took from you was ours in the first place. And with God as the witness of justice, we reclaimed it.
We had hoped you would retreat into reflection—examine your actions, assess the consequences, and show remorse. But your continued silence and posture suggest otherwise. You act as if no apology is owed, as if the people were the ones who failed you. No, Mr. President—you failed the people. You abandoned the poor. You betrayed the vision. You broke faith with the revolution.
Now is the time, not for pride or denial, but for humility and restoration.
You owe the Liberian people an explanation—and more importantly, an apology. Not because you were perfect and stumbled, but because you were chosen and fell short. A true leader returns to the people—not in arrogance, but in service.
This revolution was never about you as an individual. It was about the people’s collective power. Voting you out wasn’t an endorsement of the current regime—it was a necessary message: power belongs to the people. It always has. It always will.
Today, the revolution is flickering. Disillusionment is spreading. The ideological fire we once ignited is dimming. You, Mr. President, must rekindle it—not with fanfare, but with sincerity. Go back to your roots. Reach out to those you abandoned. Extend your hand to those you never listened to. Restore the circle.
Bring back the comrades who once believed—Joshua Sackie, George G. Solo, Momo Sambola, Victor Budu Wilson, Mulbah K. Morlu Jr., Rev. Fester Logan, Dr. Lester Tenny, Mother Comfort, Isaac Vah Tukpah, Julius Banto, Joseph Jackson, Cecelia Kpoh, Manja Varney Gbassey Kromah, Hon. C. Solomon George, Hon. Edward Ford, Hon. Jemama Wolokollie, J. Amos Swaray—and many others who gave their blood, sweat, and loyalty.
The current administration under the Unity Party has revealed itself to be no alternative. They have amplified the very vices we once fought against—tribalism, incompetence, nepotism, and systemic corruption. They are proving daily that Liberia’s deeper wounds remain unhealed, and their leadership lacks the moral clarity to mend them.
You still have a chance, Mr. President—not to regain power for its own sake, but to restore purpose. Let us rescue our revolution. Let us revive the dream. Let us return to the original vision—akin to the African National Congress (ANC) in its noble days—where people’s power is not a slogan but a reality.
History is watching. The people are waiting. The moment to recalibrate is now.
With revolutionary sincerity,
A Son of the Struggle
A Witness to History
A Voice of the Marginalized
Revolutionary Gladiator Manja Varney Gbassey Kromah
