01/05/2026
''May Day of Mourning - When the Liberian Worker Bleeds Behind the Celebration”: May 1 — “Happy” International Labor Day
To every worker across Liberia, especially those whose sweat oils the wheels of this nation but whose names are never called, today, we are told to celebrate you.
Celebrate the men and women who inhaled tear gas in Nimba for daring to ask for just benefits and dignity. Celebrate those in Grand Cape Mount whose voices were answered not with dialogue, but with bullets. Celebrate the countless workers bruised, silenced, and discarded by a system that remembers them only when it needs applause lines and political slogans. Celebrate our brother who lost his leg in the B**g Mines by one of the China Union trains. Celebrate our brothers and sisters who lost their lives in Sinoe County as they gathered to look for their daily bread in the mining field.
Yes, today is your day.
A day for speeches.
A day for promises.
A day for carefully crafted statements about “the backbone of the economy,” while that very backbone is bent, broken, and abandoned.
On this day, we are expected to clap for survival wages that cannot sustain a family. To smile, for workplaces where safety is a luxury. To cheer for institutions that look away while exploitation becomes policy, not accident. To cheer for a company like Bea Mountain Mining Company, where discrimination among workers is at its zenith. A company that has white bathrooms and black bathrooms.
So let us celebrate, too, the workers within the very Ministry of Labor, those who have labored without pay for over 17 months, without contracts, without security, without dignity. Let us honor the cruel irony that those tasked with protecting workers have themselves become victims of the same neglect.
Let us applaud the informal sector; the market women, the motorbike riders, the street vendors, the hustlers of survival, who carry Liberia on their backs without recognition, without protection, without rest. You are praised in rhetoric and punished in reality.
Today, we remember.
We remember the sting of tear gas when students of the university of Liberia will march for job but will be tear gas by the very state that should protect them.
We remember the sound of gunfire in Kinjor, Grand Capemount co.
We remember the silence that follows injustice.
We remember the empty pockets, the unpaid wages, the broken promises. We remember the stories from papa when he comes home daily with empty plastic bags.
And in remembering, we refuse to pretend.
This is not a celebration, it is a reckoning.
A reckoning with a system that has normalized suffering.
A reckoning with leadership that confuses endurance for progress.
A reckoning with a reality where the worker is essential only when convenient.
Yet even in this sorrow, there is truth: the Liberian worker has not surrendered. You rise each day, not because the system is fair, but because your resilience is stronger than its failures. You endure, not because conditions are just, but because hope refuses to die.
But endurance is not justice.
Survival is not dignity.
On this so-called Labor Day, we do not offer hollow congratulations.
We offer solidarity.
We offer remembrance.
And above all, we renew the demand that the life of every worker must matter, not in speeches, but in policy, not in symbolism, but in action.
Until that day comes, May 1 will remain not a celebration, but a mirror reflecting the pain we are too often told to ignore.
In sorrow, in anger, and in unwavering solidarity,
George Sahr Tengbeh
Executive Director
Liberia Labor and Governance Alliance (LILGA)