Why has the heartbreaking passing of Mrs. Doe been twisted into a political battlefield, a pawn in the relentless game of power and petty rivalry? While our nation is drowning in urgent, pressing issues—kitchen table concerns that truly matter—her death and her memory are being exploited like chips in a high-stakes gamble. Her dignity, her suffering, her human story—these should be sacred, yet they’re being cast aside and weaponized for political gain, as if her pain is just another tool to score points.
By Samuel Zohnjaty Joe, contributing writer
Mrs. Doe was present through the corridors of power—witness to the eras of Ellen Johnson Sirleaf’s presidency and Joseph Boakai’s twelve-year vice presidency—and yet her plight was ignored, her voice unheard, her suffering unseen by those who hold the levers of authority. Only Richard Tolbert’s kindness shone through, illuminating her humanity in a sea of indifference—a rare, precious light in a darkened landscape of neglect and self-interest.
She stood there during President Weah’s six-year tenure, pleading for the same “First Lady benefits” that many take for granted—benefits that could have eased her burdens and restored her dignity. But her calls fell on deaf ears, dismissed coldly by President Weah himself and opposition leader Joseph Nyemah Boakai, as if her pain was an inconvenient whisper drowned out by louder political clamor. Her son, Jr. Doe, was even there, dancing at Mr. Party’s rally in 2017—a moment of hope and pride—only to be cast aside, dismissed because of his support for Mr. Boakai. The coldness, the callousness, and the outright disregard for her family’s suffering speak volumes about the true state of our leadership.
Fast forward to 2023, when Boakai took the helm, succeeding Mr. Weah—yet, seventeen months into his presidency, neither Mrs. Doe nor her ailing son, stranded in London, has been acknowledged or supported. Their suffering remains invisible, their grief unrecognized. And when her death finally ignites public outrage, it is met with a frenzy of accusations, ingratitude, and blame—pitched from both the CDC and Unity Party factions, as if her story is merely a pawn in their political chess game. What a grotesque display of hypocrisy—both sides pretending to care, when in truth, their concern is hollow, their gestures superficial, their support self-serving.
If I were Mamie, I would choose to bury my parents quietly, away from the muddy waters of political games. Both sides are merely playing to score points, pretending to care—draped in false compassion, cloaked in superficial loyalty. Their concern is nothing more than spectacle, a distraction from the real issues that plague our nation. Meanwhile, her memory is being twisted and exploited, a tragic reminder of how far we have fallen—a nation where grief is turned into political currency, and human suffering is just another tool in the fight for power.
