Letter from Saclepea: Evictions: enforcing the law with mercy

By Musa Hassan Bility

Saclepea feels quiet in the mornings, but my mind has not been silent. Not with what is happening across Liberia right now, the evictions, the tears, the anger, the confusion, and the dangerous arguments that are growing around the rule of law and the right to own property.

When a country reaches the point where citizens are put out in the rain, families are scattered, belongings are thrown into pickup trucks, and children watch adults beg for mercy, it is never just an eviction. It is a mirror. It shows us what we have built, what we have ignored, and what we have allowed to rot for too long.

Let me be clear about something that must never be confused—the rule of law matters. If a competent court has determined who the rightful owner of a piece of land is, then that owner is entitled to that property. Not because power says so, not because money says so, but because law is supposed to be the one language that does not change with emotions, tribes, or politics. If we weaken lawful ownership, we weaken order. We weaken investment. We undermine the idea that tomorrow can be better than today.

But here is the uncomfortable truth that many people are refusing to say out loud. This displacement is also the government’s doing. Not because the government issued the court ruling, but because the government failed in the years before the verdict became an eviction. The state has a duty to prevent the construction of mischief structures on land that does not belong to those building them. The state is supposed to regulate, enforce zoning, stop encroachment early, and intervene before a minor illegality grows into an entire settlement. If that system existed and were enforced, we would not be watching citizens become homeless overnight.

So what we are seeing now is not only the enforcement of court decisions, but also the harvest of state negligence.

And this is why I refuse the false choice being pushed on our people, that we must either defend the landowners or defend the displaced. That is not justice. That is politics. Justice is more disciplined than that. Justice demands we hold two truths in our hands at the same time.

First, the rightful owners must receive their property as ordered by the court.

Second, the government must take responsibility for the human consequences of its long neglect.

You cannot fail to prevent illegal settlements, then arrive late with enforcement, and finally disappear again when citizens are crying on the roadside. You cannot dump people at county borders, abandon them to find their way, and call that governance. That is dereliction dressed in silence.

If the people living on those lands were there unlawfully, then yes, they must transition. But the transition must be organized, humane, and state-led. The same government that failed to stop the problem early must now lead the solution, temporary shelters, clear relocation plans, coordinated humanitarian support, and a structured resettlement process that reduces conflict and preserves dignity.

We have made these mistakes before. We have seen what happens when we avoid hard decisions in places like West Point and in other communities, when we postpone planning, ignore warnings, and allow disorder to grow until it becomes too big to manage without cruelty. And every time, the country pays twice, first in chaos, and then in suffering.

From Saclepea, I am thinking about a simple idea that our leaders should not forget. Law without compassion becomes brutality. Compassion without law becomes anarchy. A serious government must carry both.

So let the courts be respected. Let property rights be protected. But let the state finally act like a state, present, responsible, organized, and humane, so that rightful owners receive what is theirs, and displaced citizens are not treated like waste to be thrown beyond the edge of the map.

If we do this properly, we will not only restore land to its owners, but we will restore faith in a country that has too often asked its people to suffer for the government’s failures.

Have a pleasant week.