Torturing for Evidence: How the Boakai Administration Leads on Human Rights Abuses—Violating Both Liberian Constitution and International Laws

The Republic of Liberia, a nation forged in the fires of liberation and long-striving for democratic stability, finds its legal and moral legitimacy under a shadow that has grown increasingly dark under the current administration of President Joseph Nyuma Boakai. As an investigative platform committed to the rigorous scrutiny of power, Insights Liberia must sound an urgent alarm: the constitutional bedrock of our republic is being eroded not by external threats, but by the very agents tasked with its protection. The recent emergence of medical reports, validated under the stringent standards of the Istanbul Protocol and commissioned by Criminal Court ‘A’, has pulled back the curtain on a harrowing reality. We are witnessing an unvarnished catalogue of torture—systematic, sustained, and sanctioned by state agents who operate with an alarming sense of impunity.

This is not the isolated behavior of rogue officers; it is an institutional pathology that demands immediate, independent, and international oversight. The evidence presented in these medical evaluations—ranging from permanent blindness and shoulder dislocations to profound, debilitating post-traumatic stress—is damning. These are not accidental injuries sustained in the heat of a struggle; they are the marks of a calculated process of state-sponsored brutality. The individuals identified at the helm of these agencies—Justice Minister Oswald Tweh, National Security Agency (NSA) Director Prince C.

Johnson, Police Inspector General Gregory Coleman, and Deputy Inspector General Nelson Freeman—now stand at the center of a crisis that transcends administrative failure. They are the faces of a security apparatus that has seemingly abandoned the rule of law in favor of medieval extraction methods. Article 21(e) of the 1986 Constitution of Liberia is clear, unequivocal, and absolute in its mandate: 'No person shall be subjected to torture or inhuman treatment.' This constitutional provision was born from the trauma of Liberia’s civil conflict and the subsequent need to build a society where the citizen is protected from the state, rather than hunted by it.

Yet, today, that promise is being actively betrayed. By allowing these practices to persist, the Boakai administration is signaling that the constitution is merely a suggestion rather than the supreme law of the land. Furthermore, Liberia is a signatory to the United Nations Convention Against Torture (UNCAT), an international instrument that leaves no room for ambiguity. Article 2 of UNCAT states: 'No exceptional circumstances whatsoever, whether a state of war or a threat of war, internal political instability or any other public emergency, may be invoked as a justification of torture.'

The current administration’s silence or refusal to act serves as a violation of this global commitment. UNCAT further mandates that states must prevent acts of cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment committed by public officials. The current state of affairs suggests a culture of institutional acquiescence, where the Ministry of Justice and the leadership of the Liberia National Police appear more concerned with maintaining a grip on power than upholding the dignity of the people they serve. The names of the victims—Kivi Bah Kaba, Broh, Nyanti, Etheridge, Pokah, and Susay—are not mere statistics in a ledger of state violence.

They are the flesh-and-blood consequence of a profound political lethargy and a cynical manipulation of the legal system. Their stories are a testament to the fact that when a government refuses to purge abusers from its ranks, it effectively declares war on its own citizenry. The historical context of Liberia’s security sector reform cannot be overstated. Since the end of the civil wars, billions of dollars and decades of international expertise have been poured into reforming the Liberian security apparatus to transition it from a predatory force into a service-oriented institution.

The presence of torture within the cells of the National Security Agency and the Liberia National Police suggests that these reforms have been, at best, shallow, and at worst, completely dismantled. The structural incentives for violence—a lack of oversight, a closed-off culture of loyalty above legality, and an absence of accountability for high-level officials—remain firmly entrenched. When the Chief of the NSA or the Inspector General of Police remains shielded from investigations, the entire chain of command is complicit in the violation of human rights. The broader regional significance of this crisis is stark.

Liberia, often looked upon in the West African sub-region as a country that has successfully navigated the post-conflict transition, is now in danger of becoming a cautionary tale. If the Boakai administration cannot guarantee the physical integrity of its detainees, it loses the moral high ground to speak on regional human rights, democracy, or the rule of law. International partners and human rights organizations are watching, and the reputation of the state is at stake. The silence of the Legislature is equally concerning.

As a co-equal branch of government, the Legislature has the investigative power and the budgetary authority to demand accountability from the Ministry of Justice and the security agencies. Yet, we see a disturbing pattern of stonewalling, where oversight hearings become platforms for theater rather than tools for truth-seeking. This legislative complacency is a failure of democracy, leaving the citizenry with nowhere to turn when the police become the perpetrators. The path forward is not complicated, but it is politically uncomfortable.

It requires an immediate, independent inquiry into the allegations of torture, led by a body that is not beholden to the executive branch. It requires the immediate suspension of the named officials while these investigations take place to ensure that they cannot influence or destroy evidence. It requires a commitment to a full, public reckoning with the culture of violence that has been allowed to fester within our prisons and detention centers. Accountability is the only currency that can restore public trust.

Hallow ceremonies, promises of internal reviews that never see the light of day, and the obfuscation of legal responsibilities will not suffice. The world is watching, and the evidence is mounting. The Boakai administration must decide if it wishes to be remembered as the government that finally institutionalized respect for human rights, or as the one that presided over the return to a dark era of state-sanctioned cruelty. The people of Liberia deserve a security sector that protects their lives and their dignity, not one that views them as objects to be broken.

Justice for those who have been tortured is not an optional extra in the business of governance; it is the fundamental prerequisite for a legitimate state. If the government fails to act, the legitimacy of the administration itself will inevitably crumble under the weight of its own brutality. The verdict of history is waiting, and for the victims of this systemic violence, justice is long overdue.