‘Power Without Accountability Breeds Crisis’-Bility Cautions Leaders against Entitlement Culture

MONROVIA – A quiet but unsettling letter has entered Liberia’s public space, written not with slogans or statistics, but with metaphor and moral warning. From Maryland in the United States, Musa Hassan Bility, Nimba County District #7Representative and political leader of the Citizens Movement for Change (CMC), sends out his “Letter from Saclepea”, reflecting on what happens when power forgets humility and corruption, and learns to feel entitled. In language that turns walls, roads, and empty kitchens into witnesses, Bility’s latest letter speaks to normalized suffering and leadership estranged from consequence. It does not threaten revolt, but it gestures toward history, reminding both rulers and the ruled that patience is finite and dignity is not a favor bestowed, by authority. The Analyst reports.

Political leader of the Citizens Movement for Change (CMC), Rep. Musa Hassan Bility, has issued a stern warning against what he describes as the growing culture of entitlement, arrogance, and corruption within Liberia’s leadership, cautioning that unchecked abuse of power poses a serious threat to national cohesion and long-term stability.

In a letter titled “When Entitlement Learns to Walk on Air,” written from Maryland, USA, Bility delivered a sweeping moral and political critique of governance practices that, he argues, have normalized suffering and alienated ordinary citizens from the state.

“There is a kind of arrogance that does not merely offend the ear, it injures the nation,” Bility wrote. “It is the arrogance of power when it forgets its purpose, and the arrogance of corruption when it believes it has become a law unto itself.”

According to Bility, the most dangerous aspect of corruption is not simply the theft of public resources, but the sense of entitlement that often accompanies it. He described a political culture in which public offices are treated as personal property and citizens as inconveniences rather than stakeholders.

“I have watched this arrogance grow legs in our country,” he wrote. “It walks freely. It speaks loudly. It threatens quietly. It signs papers as if signatures can replace conscience.”

Bility argued that corrupt entitlement creates an illusion of invincibility among public officials, fostering the belief that power places them above consequence. “It makes people walk on stones in the air, stepping on nothing, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, because they have convinced themselves that they are above consequence,” he stated.

In one of the letter’s most striking passages, Bility used the metaphor of “the wall” as a silent witness to public suffering. He listed everyday symbols of hardship—crumbling roads, failing hospitals, unpaid rent, empty kitchens, underfunded schools—as evidence that governance failures are neither invisible nor forgotten.

“The wall watches them,” he wrote. “The market watches them. The roads watch them. The hospitals watch them. The empty rice pot watches them.”

Bility further contended that much of the wealth publicly displayed by those in power is not legitimately earned but extracted from the hardship of ordinary Liberians. “Much of the wealth that arrogance flaunts in our country is not earned wealth,” he wrote. “It is extracted wealth… taken from the sweat of the poor and polished into luxury for the powerful.”

He accused corrupt officials of weaponizing institutions to protect allies, punish critics, and obscure accountability behind bureaucracy. “They treat questions like insults. They treat accountability like rebellion,” Bility asserted.

According to him, such practices transform citizens into beggars within their own country, where lawful rights are reduced to favors and survival becomes a daily negotiation with injustice. He stressed that the poorest Liberians suffer the most because they lack protection against institutional abuse.

“This is why the suffering looks normal,” he wrote, describing what he called “normalized suffering” that leaders have grown accustomed to ignoring.

Despite the harsh critique, Bility emphasized that ordinary Liberians are not weak. “They are tired, but not weak,” he wrote. “They are struggling, but not defeated.” He praised citizens for sustaining families and communities through endurance, faith, and resilience, often without recognition or reward.

However, Bility warned that endurance should not be mistaken for consent. “Endurance should not be the national plan,” he cautioned, arguing that prolonged injustice eventually produces anger—an outcome history shows can destabilize nations.

“A country cannot be governed by entitlement and remain stable,” Bility warned. “Because arrogance eventually produces something it cannot control—anger.”

In a direct message to those in authority, Bility reminded leaders that power is temporary. “Power is borrowed. Office is rented. Authority is temporary,” he wrote, adding that public patience should never be misinterpreted as permission for abuse.

He concluded the letter with a plea and a warning—urging those in power to reconnect with the realities of ordinary life and reminding citizens that their suffering is not a personal failure.

“The true measure of a nation is not the comfort of the powerful,” Bility wrote. “It is the dignity of the ordinary person.”