As the Government of Liberia plans ahead to sell off forests for carbon credit markets, forest communities worry about livelihoods.
By Joseph Daniels and Khushali Haji with New Narratives
KPATAWEE, Bong County – Bennie Vio walks slowly, a sharp machete resting on his shoulder, observing the growth of the crops he and his family planted in the last month. He’s been in the field for six hours, hacking away at unruly weeds encroaching on the crops. As rain begins to pour, he hurries to the farm kitchen.
50-year-old Mr. Vio works with his family every day in the field to cultivate rice, cassava and other farm produce. He knows no other way of making a living. But now, with news that the Liberian government plans to reserve the surrounding forest for the new global business known as “carbon credits” Mr. Vio fears for the future.
“Without the forest, life will be difficult,” he said. “The bush, it’s the only place we get food for our family. If we are told not to cut it, where will we farm? The family will be starving.”
Mr. Vio is one of the 1.5 million people in Liberia who live in its forested land, making up over a third of the country’s total population according to a 2023 Liberia Forest and Climate Resilience Forum report. Liberia is one of the poorest countries in the world, and its rural communities are among the most marginalized. These rural communities face many threats – from climate change, deforestation and environmental destruction – but now some experts warn a new threat is looming in the form of carbon credit trading.
Carbon credit trading is a system where countries and companies can buy and sell ‘credits’ to offset their emissions of carbon dioxide and other gasses emitted primarily by factories and transportation. Carbon dioxide is trapped in the atmosphere causing a “greenhouse effect” that pushes temperatures to rise. That is having a knock on effect across the planet, causing sea levels to rise, weather and ocean ecosystems to change, threatening food and water supplies and the lives of millions of people every year.
Trees absorb carbon dioxide, so forests are one of the most important ways of fighting climate change. According to the World Bank, Liberia’s forests cover about 69 percent of the country’s total land surface as of 2019. Though the forests are rapidly being cut down for logging and charcoal production, the country still has enough forest cover to be attractive to carbon market investors.
The promise of the carbon credit system is that farmers like Mr. Vio will be compensated for preserving their trees while continuing to benefit from the food and resources they provide. The carbon these trees “capture” can then be sold as credits to companies looking to offset their emissions. But experts warn there is great risk that communities will be exploited, with companies pledging benefits but failing to deliver.
Liberia began laying the groundwork for a carbon readiness framework in 2022, positioning the country’s vast forests as a valuable asset for the carbon market. But after two years of negotiation people here say they have been sidelined. Rumors circulate about foreign companies being given rights to preserve the forests in exchange for carbon credits, but the clan says no one from the government has come to speak with them. This is causing anger.
No, you can’t decide for me,” Mr. Vio said. “I need to be part of decision making by sitting under a palaver hut and discussing what I will benefit. You can’t just sit in Monrovia and decide for us.’
This exclusion is not unique to Kpatawee. Across Liberia, rural communities that depend on forests for farming, hunting, and other livelihoods, say they are locked out of negotiations and are starting to fear the government’s ambition to profit from the carbon market opportunity will come at their expense, as it has so many times before.
The Carbon Market: Promise or Peril?
The concept of carbon markets stems from global efforts to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. Following the 1997 Kyoto Protocol and the Paris Agreement signed at COP26, an international system was set up for companies to buy and sell carbon credits. This would offset their emissions by investing in the preservation of forests and other carbon-absorbing ecosystems. On paper it seems like a win: countries like Liberia with its vast forests can attract foreign investment, and companies can mitigate their environmental impact.
“It’s clear that Liberia is capable of raising lots of money,” said Dr. Emmanuel Urey Yarkpawolo, executive director of Liberia’s Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). “If we do the carbon market properly, it is capable of raising not less than $US80 million, perhaps annually.’’
The Liberian government’s annual budget is currently around $US800 million so windfalls of that size would represent a significant increase. But critics say there are many flaws in this framework, from harming indigenous communities that depend on the forest for livelihood to “greenwashing” and letting wealthy companies get away with even more carbon production by logging at the same time as they are being paid to protect the trees. While countries like Liberia may earn revenue from carbon credits, they could also be enabling the very practices that contribute to global warming.
According to James G. Otto, program coordinator at the Sustainable Development Institute, smaller countries like Liberia are being used by industrial nations to cover up for their continued pollution.
The argument that this is contributing toward the fight against climate change is not strong enough,” Mr. Otto said. “What they are saying is that we keep the forest and they keep polluting. They get the profit, we bear the brunt. That’s double standards.”
However, the EPA director says he is confident that Liberia will be ready to enter the carbon market within 1-2 years once the UN approves its plan. But he conceded that inhabitants of forest communities are correct that they have not yet been included in negotiations.
“They’re going to be involved heavily later,” Dr. Yarkpawolo said. “But right now it is [important] to get an institutional framework lined up.”
Community Exclusion and Growing Tensions
Without good information, communities are becoming tense. Unlike Bennie Vio who heard of the government’s plan through rumors, Mary Yokpo, a 52-year-old farmer in Kpatawee, had no idea of the ongoing discussions. Her first memory of farming dates back to her childhood. Now an older woman and mother of six, Madam Yokpo relies heavily on shifting cultivation.
“I usually make a rice farm and the year I don’t do that, I get involved with making a potato farm,” Madam Yokpo said. “We depend on that to send our children to school.”
When asked about plans for carbon credit marketing here she became alarmed. “If they’re planning anything like that they need to come and hear from us first to know how we feel about it.’’
Larwuson Tucker, chairman of the Kpatawee Citizens Committee, said nearly every resident in the area is engaged with sugar cane, rice, cassava or other forms of farming. He’s concerned that the failure of the government to include the residents in something that affects them so much will jeopardize the entire process.
“Oftentimes, leaders or government officials will speak for the downtrodden without consulting them,” Mr. Tucker said. “Because they are the minister, superintendent or the director so they take decisions on behalf of the people without telling them. So when it affects the people and the people talk about it, then they become [labeled] lawless people.’’
When people are not consulted and the decision is forced, they feel overlooked, Tucker said. That anger can then fuel resistance.
“We will protest and speak against it until we get the rightful education,” said Tucker.
A Scramble for Africa’s Carbon Credits
Liberia is not alone in navigating the complexities of carbon markets. Across Africa, countries like Kenya, Gabon, and Nigeria have committed to scaling voluntary carbon markets. Investors are eager to buy carbon credits from African nations, attracted by the continent’s rich forests and relatively lax environmental regulations.
One such deal that has received a global spotlight was the agreement between Blue Carbon, a private company based in Dubai in the United Arab Emirates, and the Liberian government in 2023. Had it been finalized, the deal could have seen Liberia cede 10 percent of its land to Blue Carbon, giving the government of the UAE pollution rights equivalent to the forest’s carbon storage capacity.
The deal was criticized by some organizations such as USAID for violating several Liberian laws, including failure to involve the communities. There are also big questions around who will police the companies’ activities. Though the former Weah Administration did not finalize the deal, had it proceeded, Liberia would have been one of six African countries with which Blue Carbon rushed to make deals for carbon credits in just the last year.
“What we are doing is to get the framework and the law ready, do the carbon accounting and see how much we are capable of selling,” Dr. Yarpkawolo said. ”Then we’ll open the market. If the UAE is still interested, they can come back.’’
Meanwhile, Blue Earth Capital, a U.S. – based company that has faced accusations of violating Liberian laws by offering financial inducements to communities, has begun engaging with Liberian forest communities in anticipation of future deals. Instead of working with the government and violating community land right laws, Augustine Jarrett, the company’s CEO, says he sees value in working directly with the communities themselves.
“The Act gives the communities ownership of the land,” Jarrett said, referring to the 2009 Community Rights Law. “The communities own the biomass (the trees). They have all rights to trade it, so we pay them for the carbon and we pay them for the land.”
But the legality of such deals remains unclear. While Liberia’s 2018 Land Rights Act grants communities ownership over their customary land, the government retains control over the resources within it. This legal ambiguity creates uncertainty for communities like those in Kpatawee, who fear being squeezed out of the benefits promised by carbon markets.
“First of all we do not have a legal framework,” said Mr. Paul Kanneh, founder of Liberia Forest Media Watch. “We have the community rights law that regulates community forest, but not on carbon. Who will transact with whom? What role is the government going to play? We need those regulations to be spelt out.”
We have seen over a period of time that when the government gets money from these agreements, that money does not trickle down to the communities.” Otto said. “The money is being held by somebody and the communities do not benefit.
Liberia currently does not have laws to specifically deal with carbon capture. Dr. Yarkpawolo promises the government will pass a new law that will lay out who owns carbon rights and how communities will benefit from them. But until such policies are established, experts say rural communities remain in limbo, unsure of what rights they will have in the emerging carbon market.
What’s Ahead for Liberia?
As Liberia moves closer to formalizing its carbon market, the government faces a difficult balancing act between attracting foreign companies and addressing the concerns of affected communities. Liberia’s history with concession companies — many of which have neglected or harmed local communities — serves as a cautionary tale. Past failures to fulfill agreements and provide promised benefits have led to unrest and, in some cases, deadly confrontations with law enforcement.
“I foresee chaos if the government tries to rush into carbon trade,” Mr. Kanneh said. “We need to give some time and study whether carbon trade has really worked. Based on my experience reporting on mining and community forests, I wouldn’t agree that carbon marketing can work here.”
For farmers like Bennie Vio and Mary Yokpo, the stakes are high. Climate change has already reduced the viability of their farms forcing many to migrate to impoverished lives in mining areas or cities. Carbon credits may represent their last hope of staying on their traditional lands.
This story was a collaboration with New Narratives. Funding was provided by the American Jewish World Service and the Swedish Embassy in Liberia. The funders had no say in the story’s content.