LIBERIA – The dust had not yet settled from the commissioning ceremony of ArcelorMittal’s US$1.4 billion concentrator plant in Yekepa, Nimba County, when Senator Nya D. Twayen delivered a scathing rebuke. His words were as direct as they were defiant: “AML? .. You can dedicate another 1 bn $ plant, if the conditions laid down by the Nimba Caucus are not met we will resist renewal.” What should have been a moment of national pride quickly became a flashpoint for deep-seated frustration. Despite the glimmer of progress that the steel giant promised, including over 6,000 jobs and renewed industrial growth, Senator Twayen painted a grim image of a billion-dollar facility sitting at the center of poverty, neglect and broken promises.
In a region rich with iron ore and long burdened by the footprints of multinational extraction, the senator’s outcry resonates with the people’s demand for more than empty ribbon-cuttings. Yekepa, once a shining mining town, is now a shell of its past, with dilapidated buildings, muddy roads and a general air of abandonment. For many in Nimba, ArcelorMittal’s investment feels less like a catalyst for development and more like a monument to exploitation. The message from the senator and the local protesters who chanted “AML Must Go” ahead of President Boakai’s visit is unmistakable: the time for cosmetic development is over. Real benefits must reach the people.
President Joseph Boakai’s presence at the commissioning was meant to underscore his administration’s commitment to economic revival through foreign investment. Indeed, ArcelorMittal’s global chairman, Mr. Lakshmi Mittal, expressed high hopes for Liberia, praising Boakai’s leadership, celebrating Liberia’s election to the UN Security Council and aligning his company’s ambitions with the government’s ARREST Agenda. Mittal even announced plans to construct the long-overdue Ganta-Yekepa road. But even that gesture, welcomed though it may be, comes across as too little, too late in the eyes of many Nimbaians who have endured years of unfulfilled promises.
The deeper issue lies in the glaring disconnect between high-level speeches and local realities. A billion-dollar concentrator may boost production, but if the people living beside it cannot access clean water, paved roads or decent housing, what is the real measure of progress? The eyes of the nation may be fixed on economic metrics, but the soul of Nimba is crying out for dignity. Senator Twayen’s challenge is not rooted in politics alone; it is a moral reckoning. Development, he seems to argue, must be people centered, not project centered.
Public reaction to the investment has been mixed. While some hail it as a game-changer, civil society voices such as Anderson Miamen of CENTAL are more skeptical. Miamen openly questioned ArcelorMittal’s intense publicity campaign, arguing that genuine corporate impact does not require such heavy PR. His critique reinforces a growing sentiment: that Liberians are no longer impressed by big numbers and foreign praise. They want visible, tangible improvements such as better roads, functioning schools, local job guarantees and respect for community input.
ArcelorMittal’s footprint in Liberia has always been controversial. From contract disputes to environmental concerns and allegations of underwhelming social investment, the steel giant’s presence has never been universally accepted. The latest investment, though historic in dollar value, risks being dismissed as yet another grand gesture that fails to transform local lives unless the company urgently and transparently re-engages the communities most affected by its operations.
Senator Twayen’s warning should not be mistaken for mere political grandstanding. It reflects the simmering discontent of a county that has hosted resource extraction for decades yet remains visibly underdeveloped. If ArcelorMittal and the government fail to respond meaningfully by addressing infrastructure, restoring dignity to Yekepa and ensuring equitable benefit sharing, the billion dollar plant may come to symbolize something far less inspiring. Instead of representing prosperity, it could become a towering reminder of missed opportunities and unkept promises.
