Letter from Saclepea: The Journey so far

By Hon. Musa Hassan Bility

On a chanced morning, I woke up very early from my bed to make it on time for an interview on a local radio station in Ganta, which was also to be simulcast through all the major radio stations in Nimba. We arrived as planned, and I went on to do the interview. From the calls I received and the reactions that followed, I could tell the interview went very well. We made our points clearly, and afterward, we walked through the town.

We met the youth, the young people. We walked with them. Then we met with the market women. At every step of the journey, I looked into the faces of the people, and what I saw filled me with hope, joy, happiness, and a spark of something different. Something that told me they believed.

When the day was over, and I got into the car to leave Ganta, I began to reflect. Since joining the Capitol Building, I have seen what is wrong with Liberian politics. And I realized I needed to establish an institution that would allow me to do things differently. At the time, the thought of that movement going into a national force, let alone producing its president, was quite a distant thought. It was a figment of my imagination, something I believed in, but very much aware that its realization would be a difficult achievement.

But now, five or six months later, as I move around the country, I can see it. I see people coming together. I see the relationships we are building. And I am reminded of a conversation with a friend, someone I first met through a social media platform who later came to Liberia.

One afternoon, I visited her and we sat over coffee. She looked at me and asked, “Have you ever thought about becoming president?” I told her yes, but I admitted that I had always thought about it through the lens of bias — bias against me, my tribe, my religion. I told her that while I desired it deeply, I found it to be a distant reality.

She looked me straight in the eye and said, “You will overcome that. By being elected as a representative in the area that you are, you have already overcome that. Do not allow it to be an obstacle. Let it be your strength. Let it make you feel more obligated to your people. Believe in yourself. This is going to happen.”

Her words reminded me of Malcolm X, who once said, “The future belongs to those who prepare for it today.” In that moment, I realized that my obstacles were not barriers but responsibilities, and that belief itself was the beginning of change.

That realization stayed with me. And as I travel, as I walk among my people, as I see their genuine and natural desire for change, I remember her words. I reflect on the energy of the people, on the overwhelming response to the formation of the Citizens Movement for Change (CMC), on the support of church leaders, community leaders, and ordinary citizens.

This journey is no longer an idea. It has become a reality. And as I see the faith and expectation in the eyes of our people, I ask myself: What do I owe them? What do I owe the people who have put their trust in me, who have dedicated their lives to me and to this journey? What do I owe those who are so close and special to me, who believe in me and continue to push me, who have given everything of themselves to this process? And what do I owe my family?

The answer is simple: loyalty. Loyalty to the people who now see this movement as their own. Loyalty to those who sacrifice with me every single day. Loyalty to the belief that this is not about me. This is about them. About their hope to live better, fuller, freer lives.

And so, as the CMC grows its wings, as it expands, as it soars, I will never forget that this is a movement by the people and for the people. That thought will not leave me, not for a day, not for an hour, not even for a second.

Thank you, and have a blessed week.