WHEN THE scandal surrounding the controversial yellow machines deal exploded onto the national stage, it was Vice President Jeremiah Koung who was cast in the role of fixer — a steady hand charged with rescuing what many had come to view as an overpriced, opaque, and potentially illegal procurement agreement.
NOW, just two months after the government announced a renegotiated $22 million deal and declared the matter resolved, Vice President Koung is back in the spotlight — but not for the reasons one might expect.
HIS TRIP to China, where he is inspecting the very factories said to be supplying the machinery under the revised agreement, has raised questions. And in the court of public opinion, Vice President Koung is fast shifting from the man who saved the deal to the official now spoiling its credibility.
AT THE center of this reversal is a glaring contradiction. The government had previously told Liberians the deal was done. Vice President Koung himself boasted that the cost had been dramatically reduced from $79 million to $22 million, and that Liberia would now acquire 285 pieces of heavy-duty construction equipment on improved terms, payable over three years. “This is a significant reduction in the cost of acquiring these machines,” Vice President Koung declared during a town hall in the United States recently. “We are committed to transparency, fiscal responsibility, and ensuring that every county benefits.”
BUT VICE PRESIDENT Koung’s trip to China, where he is leading a delegation to visit Sany Heavy Machinery in Changsha and Shantui Construction Machinery in Jining — two factories supposedly involved in manufacturing the equipment — suggests something else. Government insiders have attempted to explain the trip as an “inspection and quality verification” exercise. Yet this explanation only deepens the confusion.
IF THE deal was concluded months ago, why are machines being inspected now? Why is a final quality check taking place after the government celebrated the agreement as a fiscal victory?
THE TRIP has exposed what appears to be a major inconsistency in the administration’s handling of the yellow machines deal. Critics argue that this undermines the earlier claims of finality and transparency.
SOME ARE now asking whether the original announcement was more political theatre than policy action, and an attempt to quiet a growing storm without fully addressing the legal and procedural flaws of the procurement process.
AT THE heart of the matter lies an uncomfortable truth. The country’s Public Procurement and Concessions Act (PPCA) clearly defines how major public contracts must be structured and executed. These procedures are not optional. They require the input and oversight of technical institutions, notably the Ministry of Finance, the Ministry of Justice, and most importantly, the Public Procurement and Concessions Commission (PPCC).
THESE AGENCIES exist to ensure that procurement decisions are lawful, fiscally responsible, and in the best interest of the public. Yet in the yellow machines saga, those institutions have been overshadowed by the singular role of one political figure: Vice President Koung.
DESPITE HAVING no formal procurement authority under the law, Vice President Koung has led the renegotiation, took ownership of the revised pricing, and is now overseeing international inspections. The PPCC, which should be at the center of such a process, has been noticeably absent from public discourse.
ITS EXECUTIVE Director, Bodger Scott Johnson, is accompanying the Vice President on the China trip, but the Commission itself has issued no formal statement on whether it reviewed or approved the renegotiated contract. That silence has fueled growing suspicion that the PPCC was sidelined altogether.
OBSERVERS WARN that Vice President Koung’s unorthodox leadership role sets a dangerous precedence. “The Senate, instead of being a check, is now a cheerleader,” said former government official Patrick M’bayo, who labeled the revised agreement “malfeasance repackaged.” M’bayo’s statement underscores a wider concern — that the deal may have simply been politically rebranded without fixing the underlying issues that first drew public ire.
EVEN SOME lawmakers who once criticized the original $79 million proposal have softened their tone in light of the cost reduction, though not without caution. Gbarpolu County Senator Amara Konneh, an early critic, has acknowledged that the $22 million figure may represent progress. But he was clear in drawing a line: “Those who inflated the original costs and bypassed our procurement laws must be held accountable,” he said. “We hope [President Boakai] addresses procurement and public financial management issues, as our country deserves quality roads free from corruption and politicization.”
BUT THAT hope seems increasingly dim in the face of continued opacity. To date, the government has not released a copy of the revised contract. There has been no explanation of how such a massive reduction — from $79 million to $22 million — was achieved. Was the equipment scaled down? Were support services removed? Was the supplier changed? And if so, to whom?
EVEN MORE baffling, Liberians have not been informed of the payment schedule, nor the specific terms of pre-financing the deal with Ecobank, which government sources claim is still under negotiation. These gaps in transparency are more than technical oversights. They erode public trust, especially in a government that campaigned on a platform of reform, institutional independence, and anti-corruption.
MARTIN K. N. Kollie, a prominent anti-corruption advocate, welcomed the cost reduction but echoed a broader demand for transparency. “We resisted fearlessly for over six months, and our efforts have paid off,” he said. “But we still demand full accountability for those who tried to deceive the Liberian people.” Kollie’s comments reflect the position of many in civil society who believe that without full disclosure and independent oversight, the deal remains deeply compromised.
WHAT’S AT stake is not just 285 pieces of equipment. The yellow machines deal has become a litmus test for how seriously the Boakai administration takes its promises of good governance.
THE PROCESS has so far revealed a pattern of contradictions, a sidelining of legal institutions, and an alarming overreliance on political intervention. Liberia’s procurement framework exists precisely to prevent this kind of improvization. When ignored, it opens the door to abuse, mismanagement, and eventual scandal.
VICE PRESIDENT Koung may have stepped in with good intentions. He may have genuinely sought to correct an overpriced and politically toxic agreement. But intentions are no substitute for due process. And without clear adherence to the law and public transparency, the result is the same that a deal shrouded in secrecy, shaped by politics, and executed outside the boundaries of Liberia’s procurement norms.
WHAT BEGAN as a heroic rescue operation is now being recast as a cautionary tale. From fixer to spoiler, Vice President Koung’s transformation in the yellow machines saga reflects not just the fragility of reform promises but also the limits of personality-driven governance.
AS THE administration doubles down on its defense and the PPCC remains tight-lipped, Liberians are left to wonder whether the “new day” promised by the Boakai government is already slipping into familiar shadows.
UNTIL THE full details are published, until the PPCC steps forward, and until procurement laws are visibly and strictly upheld, the stain of doubt will linger. In a democracy, trust is not earned through slogans or travel photos. It is earned through transparency, legality, and accountability — three things the yellow machines deal continues to lack.
AND IN that absence, the legacy of this deal, and of Vice President Koung’s role in it, risks being sealed not as a triumph of reform, but as a symptom of all that reform was supposed to replace.
