By Musa Hassan Bility
Last week, a simple press statement went out from Srimex. It announced that after eight years of service, Ms. Wadei Powell was stepping down as Chief Executive Officer. For most people, it is just another corporate announcement.
For me, it is a very personal story.
When Wadei came into my life and into Srimex, everything was upside down. The company I had built was in crisis. Partners were turning against me. People were trying to take over my company. Politically, I had just gone through a bruising season. Emotionally, I was tired. Financially, I was under pressure. I was watching the work of many years slip through my hands.
I had known her before. I knew her as a young professional rising at what was then Cellcom, now Orange. I knew her when I was at the Liberia Football Association. Later, we worked together in the Liberty Party. I had seen her intelligence, her discipline, and her quiet strength. But this time, I did not need a political ally. I needed someone who could help rescue my life’s work.
I sat her down and gave her a full briefing. I told her about the debts, the court cases, the broken relationships, the confusion, the fear. I told her how some partners were already planning for a world without me in Srimex. She listened carefully, without panic, without drama. When I finished, she asked me for only two things: full authority and full cooperation.
I agreed.
That is how our eight-year journey at Srimex began.
Over these eight years, Wadei did not perform magic. She did something harder. She worked. She rebuilt systems. She introduced discipline. She forced me to confront my own weaknesses and change habits that were dangerous to the company and to me. She put structure where there had been improvisation. She stood firm in some of the most challenging conversations and most arduous negotiations of my life.
She turned a sinking company into a functioning institution.
Because of her leadership, I stand today with a company that is alive, credible, and respected. Because of her work, I can focus on politics and national questions without being consumed by fear about my livelihood. She gave me something that many politicians in our country do not have: the freedom to speak my mind without depending on the government for survival.
But our story is not only a business story.
Along the way, we became close. We argued, we disagreed, we corrected each other, and we grew. We became friends, then family, then something more profound. People look at us from outside and say, “Musa controls her,” or “She controls Musa.” They are both right and both wrong. The truth is that we trust each other enough to influence and correct one another. That kind of relationship is rare.
There were moments when almost no one believed me. There were moments when even people close to me could not understand what I was doing or why I was taking certain risks. In those moments, Wadei believed. She understood. She stood. I will never forget that.
So when the time finally came for her to step away from the day-to-day running of Srimex, it was not just a managerial change. It was an emotional moment. It felt like closing a chapter that defined a very important period of my life.
But it is not an ending. It is a transition.
She has taken on a strategic role in the Citizens Movement for Change. Once again, we find ourselves shoulder to shoulder, this time not just to rebuild a company, but to help rebuild a country. We are both in law school now, challenging ourselves to think and treat people differently, and to prepare for the next level of service to Liberia. We move like twin engines, with different strengths but one flight plan.
Why am I sharing this in a Letter from Saclepea?
Because in Saclepea, we were taught something simple: when someone helps you cross a river, you do not pretend you crossed it alone. You stand in the town square, and you call their name. You tell the story so that the children will learn that survival is never a solo project.
Liberia needs to learn this lesson.
Our politics is full of people who forget where they came from and who helped them climb. Our institutions are full of leaders who are afraid to empower strong and independent minds. Many of our managers want loyalty without truth, praise without correction, and power without accountability. That is why we keep destroying institutions and starting from zero.
What Wadei and I built at Srimex is not perfect, but it carries a lesson: when you trust competent people, give them absolute authority and stand by them, they can save more than a company. They can save a life, a reputation, and a future.
As I look at Liberia today, I wish our leaders would learn to do what I did with Wadei: admit they do not have all the answers, give authority to people who do, protect them from political interference, and stand with them when the storm comes. If we did that in our hospitals, schools, security sector, and economic management, this country would be very different.
So this week, from Saclepea, I simply want to say:
Thank you, Wadei.
Thank you for rescuing my company when it was on the verge of collapse.
Thank you for giving me the security to speak and act freely in politics.
Thank you for believing in me when it was not fashionable to do so.
Thank you for helping me become a better man, a better leader, and a better Liberian.
Our journey has only changed direction. It has not ended. We now carry the experience of Srimex into a larger project, the project of changing Liberia. If we could rebuild a broken company, then with God’s grace and the collective will of our people, we can help rebuild a broken country.
Until next week,
from Saclepea,
I remain MHB