Monrovia, Liberia – The opposition Congress for Democratic Change (CDC) has come out swinging after bulldozers rolled over its National Headquarters in Congo Town on Saturday, August 23, 2025. In a fiery press statement, the party accused the Unity Party (UP)-led government of President Joseph Nyuma Boakai and Vice President Jeremiah Koung of flexing political muscles in what it called an “abuse of power of Olympic proportions.”
The CDC, clearly unimpressed with the explanation that the demolition was based on a court order, dismissed the reasoning as “legal gymnastics at its worst.” The party insisted the so-called order was as shaky as a chair with three legs, pointing out that the Constitution’s Article 20 and Chapter 51 of Civil Procedure Law specifically protect appeals from being bulldozed—literally.
“It’s like the government threw a farewell party for due process and forgot to invite the Supreme Court,” the CDC quipped. “You don’t execute a convict before their appeal is heard, unless, of course, you’re starring in a bad movie about dictatorship.”
What particularly stung the CDC was the timing: the demolition took place on the eve of the National Elections Commission’s annual headquarters inspection. To the party, this was no coincidence—it was as if the government decided to play political football and kick the CDC’s house down right before the referee showed up to check the playing field.
And then there’s the tragedy of the “Sycamore Tree.” The CDC mourned the destruction of what it called a living monument of its political struggle. “That tree wasn’t just shade—it was history, resilience, and the unofficial meeting point for countless frustrated partisans waiting on campaign stipends,” the party lamented. “Now it’s gone, thanks to the Boakai-Koung chainsaw diplomacy.”
The CDC didn’t stop at trees and rubble—it accused the judiciary of moonlighting as the UP government’s cheerleading squad. “The courts are supposed to be referees, not players wearing the ruling party’s jersey,” the statement charged, warning that Liberia’s democracy was starting to look more like a one-party show with a bad script.
Listing its grievances like a grocery bill, the party highlighted what it called a pattern of “political strongman behavior” by the government: protestors killed in Kinjor, civil servants tossed out like old shoes, opposition figures allegedly harassed, and the Supreme Court’s rulings treated like optional bedtime stories. To top it off, the CDC slammed the “war-like” security deployment during the demolition, joking that the show of force looked less like a simple building clearance and more like the government was preparing for World War III.
Yet amid the dust and disappointment, the CDC found room to hand flowers to its political leader, former President George Manneh Weah, for keeping his cool. The party praised Weah for discouraging violence, saying, “If our headquarters was going to fall, at least it didn’t take Monrovia with it.”
To show it’s not planning to sulk forever, the CDC announced a “Rebuild the HQ” committee, with ex-Speaker J. Fonati Koffa as chair. The party promised that its new headquarters would rise again—bigger, stronger, and hopefully harder to bulldoze.
Meanwhile, the CDC is knocking on every international door possible, from ECOWAS to the United Nations, warning that today’s demolition could turn into tomorrow’s full-on constitutional crisis. “If they can knock down our HQ today, they can knock down anyone’s rights tomorrow,” the party cautioned, in a tone equal parts serious and sarcastic.
Despite the bulldozers and bad blood, the CDC declared it would remain “steadfast, unbroken, and unafraid,” vowing that Liberia won’t be surrendered to dictatorship—“not today, not tomorrow, not even if they bring in another bulldozer.”
In short, the CDC is making it clear: the building may be gone, but the drama is just getting started.
