PEACEW RKS

LOOKING FOR JUSTICE

liberian experiences with and perceptions of

local justice options

Deborah H. Isser

United States Institute of Peace

Stephen C. Lubkemann

George Washington University

Saah N’Tow

United States Institute of Peace Research Team Leader

With 

Adeo Addison, Johnny Ndebe, George Saye, Tim Luccaro

Including contributions and quantitative analysis from Bilal 

Siddiqi and Justin Sandefur of the Centre for the Study of 

African Economies, Oxford University

[ [

United States Institute of Peace
The views expressed in this report are those of the authors alone. 

They do not necessarily reflect views of the United States Institute of Peace.

United States Institute of Peace 

1200 17th Street NW, Suite 200 

Washington, DC 20036-3011

Phone: 202.457.1700 

Fax: 202.429.6063 

E-mail: usip_requests@usip.org 

Web: www.usip.org

Peaceworks No. 63. First published 2009.

[PEACEW RKS [
C

ONTENTS

Summary ... 3

Acknowledgments ... 9

Part I: Introduction

Overview and Objectives ... 13

Part II: Research Findings

1. Core Questions ... 21

2. The Topography of Justice ... 23

3. The Customary Justice System ... 25

4. Liberian Perceptions of Justice ... 39

5. Views on Regulation of the Customary System ... 53

6. An Assessment of Liberians’ Quest for Justice ... 73

Part III: Conclusion

Policy Implications ... 81

Appendix: Community-Based Justice and the 

Rule of Law in Liberia ... 97

About the Authors ... 100

Peaceworks 

no. 63

[ Most Liberians would still be unsatisfied 

with the justice meted out by the formal 

system, even if it were able to deliver 

on the basics. ]

 3

summary

This report presents the research findings and analysis of ten 

months of field study as part of the United States Institute 

of Peace and George Washington University project titled 

“From Current Practices of Justice to Rule of Law: Policy Options for Liberia’s First Post-Conflict Decade.” The analysis 

we present, based on three types of research methods (focus 

groups, individual interviews with parties to specific disputes, 

and interviews with chiefs, zoes [traditional leaders], and other justice practitioners) employed primarily in three counties 

(Grand Gedeh, Lofa, Nimba, and less extensively in parts of 

Monrovia), is intended to provide the Liberian government 

and other stakeholders in the country with more robust evidence than has hitherto been available on how both formal 

and customary justice systems are perceived and utilized by 

Liberians. It also addresses what implications this evidence 

has for policy options regarding justice sector reform. Our 

methodology was designed to trace actual practice of dispute 

resolution, regardless of which institution—formal, customary, or other—was involved. This allows us to understand the 

choices made by litigants and their levels of satisfaction in relational value to the available alternatives. These realities facing Liberians in the pursuit of justice, as well as the social beliefs that inform Liberians’ conceptions of justice, are critical 

to take into account in any effort to design a successful justice 

strategy for the immediate and medium terms. 

Key Findings

Liberians are overwhelmingly dissatisfied with the 

formal justice system, particularly at the local level. 

Affordability, accessibility, and timeliness are three of the 

most consistent demands that Liberians have when it comes 

to the provision of justice. Our research reveals that the formal 

justice system is seen almost universally by Liberians as falling abysmally short of their expectations in all three of these 

important service categories. Liberians report a bewildering 

array of fees associated with the formal system, including 

registration fees, gas money for police investigators, requirements that victims pay the cost of food for the detained accused, lawyers’ fees, bribes, and indirect costs such as money 

for transportation and time spent away from livelihoods. The 

formal system is also faulted for its lack of transparency and 

impartiality, and is widely believed to be a forum in which 

wealthy, powerful, and socially connected people can assert 

their will. Finally, the formal system is widely seen as ineffective and failing to enforce—or even get to the point of 

making—judgments against offenders. Victims of crime report feeling further victimized by their experience with the 

formal courts, expressing astonishment that they would have 

to pay excessively while the perpetrators nearly always walked 

free. One woman put into words a constant theme: “There is 

no justice for the poor.” 

In fact, what emerges clearly from the research is that 

many Liberians not only view the formal system as failing 

to deliver justice, but they regard the formal justice system as 

one of the most effective mechanisms through which powerful and wealthy social actors are able to perpetrate injustice 

in service to their own interests. The cases we traced reveal a 

deliberate use of opportunistic forum shopping, in which litigants choose the formal system primarily if they believe it will 

give them an unfair advantage over their opponent. Liberians 

we interviewed reported using the formal system, or the threat 

of the formal system, as a means of advancing a contentious 

social agenda for retaliatory purposes, or for gaining leverage 

in other matters that have nothing to do with the actual case 

in question.

Even if the formal justice system were able to deliver 

affordable, timely, and impartial results, it would still not 

be the forum of choice for many rural Liberians. 

One of the most striking findings of our research is that most 

Liberians would still be unsatisfied with the justice meted out 

by the formal system, even if it were able to deliver on the 

basics discussed earlier. This is because the core principles of 

justice that underlie Liberia’s formal system, which is based on 

individual rights, adversarialism, and punitive sanctions, differ considerably from those valued by most Liberians. One 

of the consistent complaints levied by Liberians against the 

formal court system is that it is overly narrow in how it defines 
4 Looking for Justice

the problems it resolves and thus fails to get at the root issues 

that underlie the dispute. This concern rests on a culturally 

grounded and deeply held assumption that incorrect or injurious behavior is usually rooted in damaged and acrimonious 

social relations. In order to be seen as adequate, justice must 

work to repair those relations, which are the ultimate and more 

fundamental causal determinant, rather than merely treat the 

behavioral expressions that are viewed as its symptoms. Redressive action is thus considered deficient if it does not also 

produce reconciliation among the parties. A Western-style 

formal system, by contrast, is a zero-sum game 

in which one party is 

determined the winner 

and the other the loser 

of a narrow issue through 

sterile application of law, 

blind of social context. 

Many Liberians noted 

that far from resolving 

the underlying dispute, 

formal adjudication serves 

to exacerbate adversarial 

relations.

It is important to 

note that the preference 

for restorative justice and social reconciliation is not based on 

an abstract notion of tradition. Quite the contrary, it represents a very rational calculation based on the socioeconomic 

and cultural context in which most Liberians live. Given the 

subsistence livelihoods and economic interdependence of rural communities, adversarial relations between neighbors have 

serious consequences. As one interviewee put it: “Actually, the 

customary law is the one that I prefer. . . . Our traditional laws 

help us to handle our dispute very easily and after the settlement of these disputes, the disputants go with smiles in their 

faces. . . . [In] fact, the statutory law brings separation among 

our people.”

For the most part, the customary justice system is able 

to provide the kind of justice most rural Liberians are 

looking for.

Customary institutions and practices of justice have clearly 

survived the civil war and remain active in virtually all of Liberia’s rural communities. Moreover, the overarching principles 

that guide the exercise of customary justice have not been fundamentally altered by the Liberian conflict and are based on 

the overall goals of restorative justice and social reconciliation 

preferred by most Liberians. 

The process of customary dispute resolution resembles 

nonbinding arbitration—in that a decision rendered is appealable, with additional elements of mediation, and there is 

a strong effort to bring both parties to a consensus resolution. 

There is an emphasis on revealing the truth of the matter in 

an expansive way that includes the root causes and additional 

social factors that inform the dispute. In adjudicating, chiefs 

rely on the counsel and participation of community elders and 

sometimes representatives of constituent groups such as youth 

leaders. A broad social consultation process is employed to 

verify the truth and to increase the legitimacy—and therefore the acceptance—of the decision. Admission of guilt by 

the perpetrator is considered the best means of knowing the 

truth. Trial by ordeal is sometimes employed as a means of 

ascertaining the truth as well.

Customary forms of redress are aimed at addressing the 

root causes of the dispute and not just the narrow matter at 

hand. Compensation or repair of the harm to the victim is important but generally subordinate to social reconciliation. For 

certain offenses, a public fine may be levied, often in the form 

of cooking a meal for the community. Public apologies are 

important and are often followed by a ritual such as sharing a 

kola nut, knocking glasses together, or performing some other 

gesture that signifies forgiveness and reconciliation. Egregious 

cases, considered beyond social repair, may involve a punitive 

sanction.

Many Liberians also express a preference for the customary system as it is able to address the full range of problems 

they confront, including public insults and the very real belief 

that some individuals use supernatural means (witchcraft) to 

harm others. In their view, the failure of the formal system to 

recognize these as offenses leaves serious problems and insecurity unaddressed.

Indeed, according to the survey conducted by the Centre 

for the Study of African Economies at Oxford University, of 

a total of 3,181 civil cases, only 3 percent were taken to a formal court; 38 percent to an informal forum; and 59 percent to 

no forum at all. Of 1,877 criminal cases, only 2 percent were 

taken to a formal court; 45 percent to an informal forum; and 

53 percent to no forum at all.

Our research also demonstrates the limits of the customary system (perhaps accounting in part for the above statistics 

“Actually, the customary 

law is the one that 

I prefer. . . . Our 

traditional laws help us 

to handle our dispute 

very easily and after 

the settlement of 

these disputes, the 

disputants go with 

smiles in their faces. . . 

. [In] fact, the statutory 

law brings separation 

among our people.”
Summary 5

regarding the majority of cases that go to no forum at all). 

Because of its emphasis on social reconciliation, the customary system is generally not effective or considered fair when 

litigants are not members of the same community, or in some 

cases when they are ethnically or religiously diverse. Egregious 

cases, considered beyond social repair, are likewise poor candidates for customary resolution. Finally, the effectiveness of 

customary institutions is seen by many to have been undermined by external factors, including, to some extent, social 

dislocation caused by the civil war and state policies limiting 

their jurisdiction.

State policies aimed at regulating and limiting the 

customary justice system in order to comply with 

human rights and international standards are having 

unintended adverse consequences.

Without questioning the ultimate goals of state policies regulating the customary justice system, we believe that a robust 

empirical understanding of Liberians’ reactions to these policies and their on-the-ground impact is vital to inform justice 

strategies that include realistic provisions for garnering local 

endorsement and compliance, and that are sufficiently sensitive to the dangers of social unrest. A clear finding of our 

research is that certain policies aimed at addressing human 

rights and international standards have in fact had unintended 

adverse consequences that may be undermining that very goal.

■ Jurisdictional limitations. Chiefs seem to be aware of 

the state policy forbidding customary courts from 

handling matters of serious crimes, and for the most 

part they seem to adhere to this policy. However, chiefs 

and rural Liberians alike generally believe that many 

kinds of serious crime would be better handled by 

chiefs than the formal courts, and in practice chiefs 

often hear such cases when requested by both parties. 

Chiefs expressed embarrassment at the limitation of 

their role and consequent erosion of their authority. 

Many interviewees believed that this policy was leading to less, rather than more, justice, as the formal 

courts have yet to provide a credible and viable alternative. This policy is seen by many as favoring the 

wealthy and powerful, who they see as able to use the 

formal system to their advantage, and as creating a 

justice vacuum and culture of impunity.

■ “Human rights.” A striking finding of our research is 

that to many Liberians the very term “human rights” has 

negative connotations. For the most part, Liberians 

associate the term with children’s rights and defendants’ 

rights, and complain that these are undermining the 

social order. Children’s rights are understood as encouraging children to sue their parents and preventing them 

from working, which to rural Liberians is an affront to 

social values and has serious economic implications. To 

Liberians whose conception of justice is about truth and 

reconciliation, rather than an adversarial process, defendants’ rights are seen as giving an unfair advantage to 

perpetrators at the expense of the victims.

■ Trial by ordeal. The vast majority of Liberians we 

interviewed believe strongly that at least some forms of 

trial by ordeal (TBO) should be allowed, and raised very 

serious concerns that the ban on its use is causing significant societal problems—most particularly the inability to 

control crime and a rise in witchcraft. The prohibition on 

its use may be inhibiting its practice by chiefs (or at least 

the extent to which they acknowledge using it), but it is 

not in any way discrediting the practice itself, much less 

its epistemological hold on the local Liberian mindset. 

Moreover, there is evidence that these policies may simply be driving the practice into more secretive performance that further legitimizes other customary practitioners who are entirely unregulated by the state (e.g., Poro 

masters). Of even greater concern is the frequency with 

which Liberians blame the state for the increase in lawlessness and insecurity they perceive to have resulted 

from the ban.

Our data also suggests that the blanket ban may be 

missing important nuance and variation, and is seen as an 

attack on culture rather than on harmful practice. A 

significant subset of our interviewees drew clear distinctions between “sassywood,” which involves a prima facie 

harmful process, such as ingesting poison or application 

of a hot cutlass (it is believed that only the guilty will 

actually experience pain or suffer harm), and “cowfur,” 

which involves a prima facie nonharmful process, such as 

ingesting dirt or taking an oath (it is believed that this 

will cause the guilty or one who lies to suffer some harm 

within a certain period of time). Many accepted the ban 

on the former but wanted to reinstate the latter. A minority of interviewees—mostly, but not exclusively, Muslims 

and Pentecostal Christians—thought the ban was a good 
6 Looking for Justice

thing, either because they did not believe in the supernatural qualities of TBO, or they believed it was not 

reliable and often abused. 

■ Rape. While there is widespread understanding that 

rape cases must go to the formal courts, there is also 

widespread dissatisfaction with how formal courts handle 

the cases—primarily for the same reasons that formal 

courts are seen as ineffective generally—and concern that 

the ineffectiveness of the courts leads to impunity. In 

addition, several interviewees raised concerns that officials of the state court system have been the perpetrators 

of sexual abuse and rape. Both men and women stated 

that a consequence of the new rape law is an increase in 

false accusations of rape in order to achieve leverage 

against the other party for some other reason. While 

most Liberians agree that the most serious forms of rape 

(for example, violent rape) should be dealt with in a 

punitive fashion by the formal court system, they criticize 

the new rape law for not allowing for restorative remedies 

that take into account broader social interests for “less 

egregious” types of rape. 

While many rule of law reformers advocate that a uniform 

system of law will best serve the aim of ending historical 

discrimination, many rural Liberians believe this would 

perpetuate discrimination and argue that they should be allowed to keep the dual system. 

Very similar intentions to banish the past injustices embodied in the historical duality of Liberia’s justice system 

appear to be motivating many rule of law reformers as well 

as the local population. However, somewhat paradoxically 

these same intentions may also be driving these two groups 

in opposite directions. To many national policymakers and 

their international counterparts, the assumption is that the 

key to rule of law in Liberia is to enshrine the principle of 

uniformity—that is, to provide a singular legal system and 

framework that works the same way everywhere for everybody. However, our research clearly shows that most rural 

Liberians are unenthusiastic about such efforts because 

they are seen as (yet another) effort to extend the power and 

domination of a Monrovian elite and foreign culture. Without rejecting the ultimate authority of the state or even a local role for the formal justice system, rural Liberians consistently reject the proposition that the “laws (and institutions) 

of Monrovia”—or of the international community—should 

be allowed to supplant and override their customary ones.

Policy Implications

In the final section of our report we develop an analytical 

framework against which justice reform options can be tested 

for their likely impact. 

We suggest that the impact be analyzed from the perspective 

of four objectives that are vital to Liberia’s postwar future: 

■ justice objectives, 

■ governance and peacebuilding objectives, 

■ international standards and human rights objectives, 

■ and political objectives. 

We next identify three aspects of local Liberian reality—

■ capacity of the formal system at the local level; 

■ capacity of the customary system; 

■ and Liberians’ socially informed conceptions of 

justice—which we believe have a critical impact on 

whether justice policies in fact reach or undermine 

those objectives.

These realities will undoubtedly change over time, requiring a reassessment of policies to determine if the strategic objectives are still being maximized. However, we would warn 

against any overly optimistic assumptions about how quickly 

these realities change. While our study clearly underscores the 

need for a great deal more attention to the wide-ranging needs 

of the local level of Liberia’s formal justice system, it seems to 

us highly unlikely that current levels of donor and government 

of Liberia resource allocation hold much promise of enabling 

such change within the time parameters initially contemplated by this study (Liberia’s first post-conflict decade). Indeed, 

if other post-conflict cases—even the more optimistic ones—

have anything instructive to say about the rate of change that 

might be effected in Liberia’s formal system, it is quite likely 

that the meaningful metric for significance in change will actually be generational. We thus offer two suggestions on how 

policymakers might go about developing successful reform 

strategies in the near time.

First, rather than set standards at an unattainable level, it 

would be wise to consider transitional policies aimed at providing the best possible justice under the circumstances, and 

at creating an environment of openness and trust between the 

customary and formal systems that seeks to bridge the gaps 

and move toward full realization of Liberia’s goals for its justice system. Again, without being prescriptive, we suggest a 

preliminary—and by no means complete—list of policy directions that might be considered:
Summary 7

■ Place greater emphasis on building the capacity of and 

easing access to the formal justice system at the local 

level—the point of contact with the local population—

for example, by reducing fees, reducing case resolution 

time, eliminating the need for legal representation in 

certain cases, etc.

■ Incorporate restorative principles into formal adjudication of criminal cases—for example, by allowing victims 

to opt for compensation in lieu of (or in addition to) penal 

sanctions on the guilty (rather than requiring them to 

pursue costly civil cases) and by incorporating a role for 

traditional authorities to help reconcile the parties.

■ Adopt a more nuanced approach to defining jurisdictional limitations—for example, by introducing criteria 

to determine when crimes may—and may not—be 

adjudicated by customary authorities. Such criteria 

might include whether or not the parties prefer customary adjudication, whether or not a third party is 

affected, whether or not there is a political or ethnic 

dimension to the crime, etc. Among the benefits of 

such an approach would be a reduced caseload in the 

formal courts.

■ Restrict opportunistic forum shopping by encouraging 

the exhausting of traditional resolution in most cases 

(except for where this would lead to clear injustice) prior 

to entry into the formal system. 

■ Vastly increase accessible legal assistance and representation to the many litigants who fall victim to the vagaries 

of justice.

■ Ensure that policies aimed at promoting human rights 

take into account the larger socioeconomic context of 

rural Liberians.

Second, we suggest that rural Liberians and customary authorities be regarded not just as a subject of policy but as a 

source of change and innovation. Local ideas can be tapped 

through a type of consultative process, consciously and explicitly engineered “to identify and listen” to local ideas and 

solutions rather than telling rural Liberians what those are. 

This process should be carefully designed to get communities 

to do more than identify problems. It should also get them 

involved in imagining solutions, what change should look like, 

and how to effectively bring change about. It is our belief that 

such a mechanism can allow policymakers to develop reform 

strategies that are practical because they continuously take 

into account and update their understanding of the types of 

local realities and social beliefs we have analyzed here, and 

also foster more meaningful local participation that can prove 

invaluable in Liberia’s rule of law reform process. 

 9

acknowledgments

The following study is the result of a sizeable collaboration 

begun at the behest of the United States Institute of Peace. 

Conducted under the leadership of Deborah H. Isser of the 

United States Institute of Peace, and Stephen C. Lubkemann 

of the George Washington University’s Anthropology Department Elliot School of International Affairs, this study 

builds upon the initial desk study on Liberia’s justice system 

conducted by Counselor Phillip Banks for the United States 

Institute of Peace prior to his acceptance of the post of Liberia’s Minister of Justice. 

Saah N’Tow was the indispensable leader of our field research team and has also played a major role in the analysis 

and clarification of findings. He, together with Jimmy Shilue, 

pursued the initial pilot study in 2007 that helped refine our 

approach and defined the geographic focus of the study. Since 

January 2008 Saah N’Tow has been the coordinator of a dedicated team of Liberian fieldworkers who were responsible for 

conducting, translating, and organizing the vast majority of 

the primary information contained within. Their insights and 

feedback on the analysis were also invaluable. 

A special thanks goes to all the members of our field 

research team, including Adeo Addison, Johnny Ndebe, 

and George Saye, who spent months traveling across Liberia helping their fellow citizens articulate their perceptions 

about their shared justice system. Additional thanks are also 

offered to Musu Redd for her many hours of translation and 

transcription work. We are also grateful for the transcription 

work performed by Paul Samuels, students from the University of Liberia’s Mass Communication Department, John 

Passie, Stanley Gbajay, Madea James, Rev. Jacob Gblie, D. 

Robert Johnson, Edmond Garleh, Henry N’Tow, Wellington Geevon Smith, and Alexander Gbartee. The research 

team also benefitted greatly from the research and analysis 

assistance of Tim Luccaro, Dr. Lubkemann’s graduate assistant at the George Washington University.

This project would not have been possible without the institutional support of numerous organizations, foremost being 

the United Nations Mission in Liberia’s Legal and Judicial 

System Support Division (UNMIL-LJSSD), first under the 

leadership of Dr. Alfred Fofie and later under the leadership 

of Dr. Kamudoni Nyasulu. The logistical support provided by 

UNMIL as well as the sharing of data and the opportunity for 

frank discussion and intellectual exchange with the LJSSD 

leadership must be acknowledged as an indispensable contribution to the production of these findings. Similarly, the 

Carter Center Liberia (particularly Tom Crick, Mary Miller, 

John Hummel, PeeWee Flomoko, Sean McLeay, and David 

Kortee) was instrumental in providing intellectual and logistical partnership throughout the entire course of the project. 

We were particularly fortunate to collaborate with Bilal Siddiqi and Justin Sandefur of the Centre for the Study of African Economies (CSAE), University of Oxford, on the design 

of an elaborate household survey that bolsters our qualitative 

data. Liberia’s Ministry of Justice and Ministry of Internal Affairs, Interpeace, the American Bar Association, and the Association of Female Lawyers in Liberia all offered important 

additional input and support throughout the project. 

Finally, while this study would have been impossible without the close partnerships of UNMIL-LJSSD, the Carter 

Center, and the field research team, we must take full responsibility for the final analysis presented in this report, and acknowledge that their contributions do not necessarily mean 

that any of these organizations or individuals endorses the 

conclusions we have drawn herein.

 11

I

Introduction [ [

 13

overview and objectives

This report presents the research findings and analysis of ten 

months of field study as part of the United States Institute 

of Peace and George Washington University project “From 

Current Practices of Justice to Rule of Law: Policy Options 

for Liberia’s First Post-Conflict Decade.”

Overall Project Objectives and Rationale

The broader objectives of the project as a whole are to assist 

the Liberian government and the international community to 

develop evidence-based policy options for expanding the rule 

of law and consolidating peace over the next decade in Liberia 

in ways that account for the role of informal legal systems and 

grassroots understandings of justice. 

As Liberia reconstructs its institutions shattered by years of 

brutal conflict, strengthening the “rule of law” has emerged as 

a priority. The government and its international partners have 

focused primarily on the formal justice system, refurbishing 

courthouses, training judicial and legal officers, and strengthening legislation that protects fundamental rights. However, 

the task of reestablishing a functioning justice system is proving daunting and involves the full gamut of need. There are 

many reports that highlight the chasm between need and 

capacity in the formal legal system. Among the deficiencies 

studied by others are the sheer lack of qualified judges and 

lawyers, and an absolute lack of any formal court structures or 

personnel in some areas. Police, prosecutors, magistrates, and 

judges work in the absence of the most basic infrastructure 

and equipment. A very low rate of case adjudication has also 

resulted in massive backlog, and about one thousand detainees 

are awaiting trial at any given time. A large number of incarcerated people and inadequate prison conditions have resulted 

in several prison breaks.

While the rebuilding of state justice institutions and the 

restoration of their legitimacy will require many years and 

considerable resources, most Liberians resolve their disputes 

through customary mechanisms and institutions. While this 

state of affairs may be a practical inevitability, the localization 

and fragmentation of justice often raises its own challenges to 

the consolidation of peace and the establishment of a justice 

system that conforms with the standards of the international 

community. Thus, how these customary mechanisms might fit 

into justice reform strategies raises a number of concerns. First 

among these is the fact that the customary justice system utilizes a range of practices that violate international standards, 

most prominently, trial by ordeal and practices that violate 

women’s rights. 

A second concern relates to the legal basis for customary law and its relationship to the formal judiciary. Through 

a complicated and twisted legal history, paralleling Liberia’s 

complex political history, a dual justice system has been created, in which both the formal and the customary justice 

systems are recognized. While it is generally considered that 

the Rules and Regulations Governing the Hinterland set out 

the basic legal framework of the dual system, there have been 

many calls for the overhaul of this anachronistic legislation, 

challenges to the constitutionality of the dual system, and 

questions about its legal validity due to an array of overlapping laws. The result is a great deal of legal ambiguity about 

the role of the customary legal system and its place in Liberia’s 

overall justice sector.

Finally, while many justice practitioners believe that the 

customary justice system should play an important role in 

maintaining the rule of law, little has been known about the 

manner in which it operates today, or the degree of legitimacy 

it enjoys. Liberia’s civil war caused mass destruction, population displacement, and social dislocation, all of which can have 

a devastating effect on local justice mechanisms. Moreover, 

the ethnic cleavages that fueled the conflict may have further 

eroded traditional structures and mechanisms. An understanding of how customary justice operates on the ground today—as distinct from prewar ethnographic studies, as distinct 

from how it is meant to operate on paper, and as distinct from 

assumptions made in Monrovia—is critical to ensure the viability and positive impact of future policies.

Project Description

We conceived of this project as a way to support the development of policies regarding the role of the customary justice 
14 Looking for Justice

system in rule of law strategies. Our aim is to provide empirical research and analysis to help sort out the dilemmas described above and understand the potential impact of various 

policy options. From the outset this project has been distinctively guided by the view that realistic policies for cultivating 

post-conflict rule of law must be informed in the first instance 

by a rigorous analysis of current practices and social understandings of justice at the grassroots level, within the socially 

and ethnically diverse and sometimes politically polarized 

communities that comprise the Liberian social fabric. 

The project aims to accomplish this objective through 

three primary activities:

1. An empirical field study that provides a robust assessment of (a) how the dispute resolution mechanisms to 

which people resort operate in actual practice and (b) 

how justice is understood throughout this socially diverse 

and politically splintered society.

2. A comprehensive analysis of the current legal framework 

governing the dual justice system, which seeks to identify 

internal inconsistencies, differing interpretations, and 

gaps between the law on paper and the law in practice. 

3. A series of consultations, workshops, and other focused 

facilitative actions that will foster a policy dialogue 

among key stakeholders (national and international) that 

is as attuned to Liberia’s grassroots social realities as it is 

to the dynamics of national politics and international 

human rights. By bringing the results of the project’s field 

research and legal analysis to bear in these consultations, 

the project aims to contribute to the formulation of a 

more realistic policy road map for the revitalization of 

justice in Liberia and for the growth and consolidation of 

rule of law over an extended post-conflict transitional 

period (10–12 years). 

Objectives of this Report: Primary Analysis

of Field Research Findings

This report is the culmination of the first activity: the empirical field study.1 Our aim is to provide our primary analysis 

based upon a first full and comprehensive review of all of the 

data that we have produced since January 2008. This data consists of more than 130 individual interviews and more than 35 

focus groups conducted primarily in Nimba, Grand Gedeh, 

and Lofa counties. 

Throughout this project we have collaborated closely 

with other organizations conducting related empirical and 

evidence-based analysis. In particular, we have worked closely with the Carter Center and its partner researchers from 

Oxford University’s Centre for the Study of African Economies (CSAE) to design and implement a large-scale quantitative survey. The analysis of that data is currently in process, 

but preliminary results from the data are displayed at several 

points throughout this report. A detailed description of the 

Oxford CSAE study, along with a summary of main findings, 

can be found in the appendix.

We look forward to a process of review and discussion of 

this report with other experts and stakeholders, and expect 

that their contributions will further sharpen the analysis. It is 

also our intention to make the primary data widely available 

and to encourage other experts, practitioners, and policymakers to use it directly themselves. The data is rich and can undoubtedly reveal valuable insights into a range of questions 

that we may not have addressed here.

Approach: Field Study Design and

Methodology

The design and methods for the field study component of this 

project have several distinctive features that relate directly to 

its objectives of producing a robust empirical understanding 

of how justice is understood at a grassroots level throughout 

Liberia:

Dispute resolution in actual practice 

The research was designed to capture local engagement with 

both the formal court system as well as a full range of informal justice mechanisms and institutions. This was achieved by 

designing an interview protocol that traced how communities and individuals have resolved a set of signature issues—

namely, violent crime, murder, rape, theft, land disputes, and 

a residual open category for issues of importance as identified 

by local respondents. The individual case interview protocols 

traced actual cases sequentially through their entire reported 

course of resolution, regardless of which type of institutions—

formal or informal—were involved. The distinct advantage of 

this approach over ones that focus on particular types of institutions as their point of entry, is that it allowed us to capture 

the full range of interactions between customary and formal 

systems that can occur in a single case’s resolution, and to better understand how communities and individuals understand 

the relative role and advantages of a whole variety of institutional forums relative to each other. This approach is thus 

decidedly not meant to produce a study of the informal/cus-
Part I: Introduction 15

tomary justice system/institutions alone, but it is quite deliberately designed to capture a picture of the whole institutional 

geography and the practice of justice in its entirety as locally 

viewed and experienced throughout a large part of Liberia. 

Notably, this methodological approach has allowed us to capture the influence and intervention of actors and institutions 

that are part of neither formal nor customary justice institutions, but that can nevertheless be empirically documented as 

influencing the course of case resolution. 

In our view it is the ability of this approach to capture the 

relational quality of all institutions and actors involved in the 

actual practice of justice that promises to constitute a muchneeded alternative evidence base for policy formulation. This 

is a particularly important perspective to build upon in the 

formulation of any realistic policies that seek to define the 

articulation between the formal and customary systems. As 

a sociological/anthropological study, this effort attempts to 

document how people have formulated perceptions based on 

their experience of the actual practices of actors and institutions, regardless of how these may be defined “on paper.” 

Multiple perspectives

Our findings are distilled from a triangulated review of three 

data sets, namely

■ Forty extensive interviews with justice practitioners 

(primarily chiefs, along with elders, zoes [traditional 

leaders], and others involved in dispute resolution);

■ Ninety-one individual interviews (about seventy-eight 

different cases) that reviewed the entire course of a case’s 

process with individuals who were parties to those cases 

(wherever possible involving both parties to a case); and 

■ Twenty-nine focus groups selected to span key forms of 

sociodemographic difference (generational and gender in 

particular). 

We have taken rigorous and systematic steps to ensure 

that our analysis is based on the composite review of multiple 

perspectives. Thus, for example, our description of customary 

justice procedures is not merely a matter of reporting what 

justice practitioners have to say about what they do, but relies 

on a juxtaposition of such claims with the accounts of many 

other witnesses and parties with their own particular viewpoints and vested interests. 

Our analysis also cross-references a fourth data set, namely, 

select preliminary findings from the survey conducted by 

Oxford University’s Centre for the Study of African Economies (CSAE) in collaboration with the Carter Center and our 

research team. The survey interviewed a representative sample 

of more than 2,500 households in 176 villages spread across 

Bong, Grand Gedeh, Lofa, Maryland, and Nimba Counties, 

asking households a wide range of questions on dispute incidence, processes, and mechanisms of dispute resolution, as well 

as collecting their socioeconomic profile. In addition, more 

than three hundred quantitative interviews were conducted 

with local police, magistrates, commissioners, and community 

justice providers (chiefs, elders, secret society leaders).

Sociogeographic and demographic diversity

The research project was designed to maximize coverage of 

Liberia’s sociogeographic diversity both between and within 

communities. The research was conducted in three “rural” 

counties— Lofa, Nimba, and Grand Gedeh—and in periurban Monrovia. Originally the project intended to include two 

additional counties (Cape Mount and an additional county 

in the southeast), both in order to ensure greater socioethnic 

representativeness and to better capture the dynamics of justice practice in areas in which social institutions had been less 

thoroughly disrupted by Liberia’s civil war. When resource 

constraints forced us to narrow our scope we opted to focus 

on the large counties most fundamentally affected by the war. 

Through continued close collaboration, consultation, and data 

sharing with like-minded and research-oriented partners 

we hope that comparable data for other parts of Liberia will 

eventually be developed. 

However, for purposes of this report we note that our current findings reflect the sociogeographic limitations of our 

fieldwork. While our review of reports by other organizations 

and researchers suggests that many of the principles we explain here are broadly similar in many other parts of Liberia, 

we think it wise to caution against excessively robust or rigid 

generalization to other areas of the country, absent comparable empirical and methodologically rigorous fieldwork in 

those areas.

Within the counties in which we conducted our field study, 

we systematically attended to questions of important forms 

of social heterogeneity, most particularly with respect to gender and age. Thus, the two of our three research protocols that 

were organized around signature issues (our individual case 

interviews and our focus group interviews) deliberately sought 

to recruit systematically for gender and generational diversity among respondents. In the third category of interviews 
16 Looking for Justice

Table 1: Number of Focus Groups by Category of Participants

County

Female 

elders Male elders

Female 

adults Male adults

Female 

youth Male youth

Female 

excombatants

Male 

excombatants

Lofa 3 2 1 1 1 4 1 0

Nimba 1 4 1 0 2 2 0 0

Grand 

Gedeh 0 1 1 1 1 0 1 1

Total 4 7 3 2 4 6 2 1

Table 2: Number of Justice Practitioners Interviewed

County Quarter chief Town chief Clan chief

Paramount 

chief

Sectional/ 

zone chief

Mandingo 

or Fula 

governor Elder

Lofa 1 5 4 3 1 0 0

Nimba 0 1 3 7 4 0 2

Grand 

Gedeh 0 3 0 6 0 2 0

Total 1 9 7 16 5 2 2

Table 3: Number and Type of Individual Case Interviews

Incident type

Total 

number

Respondent’s sex Victim’s or plaintiff’s sex Perpetrator’s or defendant’s 

sex

Male Female Male Female Both Male Female Both

Murder 6 4 2 5 1 0 6 0 0

Rape or genderbased violence 10 5 5 0 10 0 10 0 0

Violent crime 13 8 5 10 3 0 10 3 0

Witchcraft 4 4 0 2 1 1 3 1 0

Theft 6 4 2 3 2 1 4 1 1

Land dispute 20 15 5 11 2 7 12 2 6

Labor, market, or 

debt dispute 11 8 3 9 2 0 3 0 8

Other 8 4 4 4 2 2 2 4 2

Total 78 52 26 44 23 11 50 11 17

Table 4: Summary of Individual Disputes

Incident type Total number

Number of cases by county

Grand Gedeh Lofa Nimba Monrovia

Murder 6 1 0 5 0

Rape or gender-based violence 10 2 8 0 0

Violent crime 13 3 5 3 2

Witchcraft 4 1 0 3 0

Theft 6 1 2 1 2

Land dispute 20 5 5 6 4

Labor, market, or debt dispute 11 0 3 1 7

Other 8 0 5 2 1

Total 78 13 28 21 16
Part I: Introduction 17

(justice practitioner interviews), gender proved to be a less 

relevant variable because customary justice practitioners were 

almost invariably males (for a graphic representation of the sociodemographic and geographic breakdown of our three types 

of interviews, see tables 1–4).

Local researchers

Our interview data was collected by an intensively trained 

team of interviewers and transcribers who were not only Liberian but who were also from the actual counties in which 

they carried out the research, and thus fully knowledgeable 

of local language, and both discursive and social mores. This 

not only facilitated access and fostered respondent confidence 

but positioned the interviewers to use more culturally effective 

questioning strategies for obtaining the desired information. 

More importantly, it allowed the interview instruments to be 

designed so that the interviewers could solicit and/or provide 

vital forms of contextualization about terminology, idiomatic 

reference, and custom during the course of the interview, subsequently in transcription and translation, and eventually in 

secondary analysis guided by the project’s directors.

Archive of data

All of the interviews conducted during the course of this project have been recorded by audio, and digitally transcribed and 

translated. This creates an archive of primary case study material that, once made publicly available after final cleaning, 

can—and we hope will—be used by others who hope to pose 

more focused policy queries and for the development of training materials and curricula. In the spirit of rigorous scientific 

criteria, which itself banks upon its own “rule of law” that demands maximum transparency, this archive will enable others 

to review our own original data and subject our analysis and 

conclusions to the fullest possible critical scrutiny. For those 

with additional interest in the instruments and methodological procedures used to generate our data, copies of our instruments are available on the United States Institute of Peace 

Web site (www.usip.org).

Note

1. In parallel, we are cosponsoring a legal working group to 

conduct the comprehensive analysis of the legal framework governing the dual justice system. 

 19

I

Introduction [ [ II Research Findings

 21

1 core questions

The methodology we used in our research was deliberately 

designed to enable us to capture the full range of mechanisms 

and actors through which Liberians sought to resolve their 

disputes. Thus, we did not take the “expected” institutions—

formal or customary—as our point of departure. Rather, we 

traced actual cases sequentially through their entire reported 

course of resolution, regardless of which type of institutions 

and actors (formal or informal, or other social actors altogether) were involved. In this way, we could see the actual practice 

of justice as experienced by litigants, understand how and why 

they chose certain routes, and gauge their relative levels of 

satisfaction.

Our analysis was guided by the following core questions:

1. Where do Liberians go to resolve their disputes? 

2. How do the various dispute resolution forums relate to 

each other (in terms of jurisdictional limitations, hierarchy, appeal, etc.)?

3. To what extent is customary law practiced today and in 

what ways has it changed since before the war?

4. What are the principles and procedures that govern 

customary law?

5. To what extent do the various dispute resolution forums 

produce satisfactory justice in the eyes of Liberians?

6. What is the impact of laws and policies that aim to regulate or modify customary practice? 

Our aim in seeking answers to these questions was to understand how justice is in fact experienced and perceived by 

most Liberians, and to yield insights into the following policy 

questions:

1. What kind of justice reform strategies might improve the 

experience of justice for most Liberians in the immediate 

term?

2. How might justice reform strategies seek to bridge the 

social and cultural divide between customary justice and 

the formal legal system?

3. What are options and trade-offs concerning the role of 

customary law in Liberia’s overall justice system over the 

medium to long term?

In this part of the report, we lay out our key research findings in five sections. First we provide the cast of characters—

individuals and institutions—that make up the topography of 

justice for rural Liberians. Second, we review how customary 

justice is practiced today, the characteristics of its practitioners—chiefs, secret societies, religious leaders, etc.—and its 

main limitations. Third, we analyze how Liberians experience 

and perceive their two main justice options—the formal system and the customary system. Fourth, we discuss the impact 

of several recent government policies aimed at regulating the 

customary justice system, with emphasis on popular perceptions and unintended consequences of these policies. Finally, 

we discuss how these findings, taken together, determine how 

Liberians choose to go about resolving their disputes.

The original data we collected is so rich and revealing that 

we have chosen to include extensive primary material in this 

report, allowing the respondents themselves to describe actual 

cases in their own words. These are presented both throughout 

the main body of text and in text boxes. All interviews were 

recorded and transcribed (and in some cases translated). We 

provide excerpts directly from these transcripts—unedited, 

except to preserve anonymity. 

 23

2 the topography of justice

It is useful to lay out the “cast of characters” up front—that 

is, the full range of actors and institutions that make up the 

justice landscape as it appears to the Liberians we interviewed. 

Liberians engage with the formal justice system most commonly at the lowest level—that of the justices of the peace or 

the magistrate courts. More serious cases are referred directly 

to the circuit courts, and on occasion cases are appealed all the 

way to the Supreme Court. Criminal cases often involve the 

police and may—or may not—include the county attorney 

advocating on behalf of the victim and defense attorneys defending the accused.

The lack of capacity and, to a large extent, the deficit 

in credibility of the formal court system at the local level 

throughout Liberia means that the most relevant justice institutions for the vast majority of the country’s population are 

customary ones. The core of the customary justice system involves a hierarchy that begins with the senior members of a 

household or a family, and then extends through a succession 

of chiefs—in ascendant order quarter chiefs, town chiefs, clan 

chiefs, and paramount chiefs. Beyond the paramount chiefs, 

the informal system’s chain of referral continues first to the 

district commissioner and then to the county superintendent. 

Decisions that do not satisfy one or both parties at lower levels 

can be appealed through this entire chain of referral. The consistency with which our respondents describe this as the current system indicates that local understandings of the chiefs’ 

hierarchy still largely reflect prewar understandings that have 

prevailed since this structure was first codified and recognized 

by the Liberian state in the early 1920s.1 In reality, however, 

our research shows that cases may jump from the customary chain into the formal one—and vice versa—at nearly any 

point, due to the assertion of authority by a member of one or 

the other chain, or by choice of one of the litigants.

Certain types of disputes and disputants are also handled 

by another category of customary institution that derives its 

authority from local community mores but whose role is not 

explicitly recognized in Liberian law or by the Liberian state. 

Most prominent among these institutions are the secret societies, the most well known of which in the rural areas of our 

study are the Poro and the Sande,2

 described in the anthropological literature as follows:

Poro is a male sodality [secret society] found 

among several groups in central and western 

Liberia, including the Vai, Gola, Dei, Mende, 

Bandi, Loma, Kpelle and part of the Ma [Mano]. 

The society serves two primary functions. It is the 

main institution to enculturate young males and to 

formally carry them through the rite of passage 

from child to adult. In addition, the elders of the 

Poro serve as the intermediaries between the 

ancestors and the living, and thus act as the ultimate arbiters of asocial actions which affect the 

society. The female counterpart of this organization is the Sande Society.3

While the ritual officers in these societies are often the 

first and even ultimate line of recourse for all manner of disputes that occur among their own members, cases are also often referred to them from all levels within the aforementioned 

“state-recognized” customary system that extends from chiefs 

through the county superintendant. One of our findings is 

that these societies not only continue to play a prominent role 

in the local administration of justice throughout rural Liberia but that there are also signs that the influence of these 

institutions in the justice process is growing,4

 in part as an 

inadvertent consequence of government policies that are perceived to have simultaneously weakened the power of chiefs 

and contributed to the growth of witchcraft. 

This report will also discuss some of the particularly problematic aspects of Poro influence and activity, most particularly in local communities in which a higher degree of religious 

heterogeneity results in conflicts between Poro members who 

seek to impose customs on non-Poro members whose religious 

affiliation (most often as Muslims or Pentecostals) prescribes 

that they should resist conforming with such demands. 

Our research also indicates that within certain religious 

and ethnic communities, leaders such as imams, Pentecostal 
24 Looking for Justice

pastors, ethnic chiefs (e.g., Fula chief) are sometimes called 

upon as the first line of recourse in the resolution of disputes 

among their congregants or coethnics. Similarly, the authority 

to resolve certain types of disputes with delimited spheres of 

professional activity, such as by head marketwomen within the 

marketplace, is also recognized by many rural Liberians.

One of the most important findings of our field study is 

the remarkable degree to which a broad range of actors who 

have no legally or socially recognized roles in formal, statebacked-customary, or even community-based-customary justice institutions become involved in, and are perceived to be 

able and likely to influence, the resolution of cases ranging 

from the most trivial to the most serious. In our interviews, 

the exertion of such influence was reported as particularly 

frequent on the part of a wide range of state officials who 

have no legal role in the statutory system, including national 

legislators, deputy ministers, immigration officers, city mayors, and diplomatic bodyguards, among others. This fact may 

explain why so many rural Liberians and (if their referral decisions are any indication) often even justice and state officials 

themselves do not appear to draw particularly sharp distinctions between justice officials strictly speaking and other state 

authorities in determining who to approach for seeking redress and who to allow to intervene in the resolution of cases. 

Thus, for example, our research verified numerous incidents 

in which the police—who are usually the first line of litigant 

interaction in cases channeled directly to the formal system, 

and often also in cases directed to chiefs—not only served as 

the gatekeepers in decisions about whether and where cases 

would be referred, but also quite often intervened directly to 

resolve the situation itself.

More generally, powerful (e.g., former military commanders) or simply wealthy people and even international institutions (including a number of nongovernmental organizations 

[NGOs]) were also reported as sometimes exercising similar 

influence. Our research also reveals a strong perception among 

many Liberians that the wealthy and the powerful are increasingly able to exercise undue influence within the formal justice system through their membership in other forms of secret 

societies such as the United Brothers of Friendship (Masons). 

Unlike the Poro and Sande, which aspire to virtually universal recruitment within local communities, groups such as the 

UBF are seen as the exclusive purview of the rich and the 

powerful—particularly those who have ties to Monrovia. 

Any effort to understand the practices, choices, and experience of rural Liberians with respect to dispute resolution 

must take into account this full range of actors. Perceptions 

and preferences should be evaluated in light of the actual justice landscape as seen and experienced by Liberians—not the 

presumed institutional framework. Moreover, it is from an understanding of the relational quality of these various options 

and alternatives in the eyes of Liberians that realistic and effective justice strategies should emerge. 

Notes

1. According to Philip A.Z. Banks III, “In the early 1920s, 

the government created a further process in which the 

town chief and all other chiefs above that rank became a 

part of the government structure. Within this new government-created informal system the courts of the town 

chief, the clan chiefs and the paramount chiefs became a 

part of the government machinery. Under the government-created system cases decided by the town chief are 

appealable to the clan chief and then to the paramount 

chiefs, from whence a further appeal can be taken to the 

‘administrative courts.’ These are the courts of the district commissioners in each county and the county 

superintendents, to whom further appeals may be taken 

by dissatisfied parties. Appeals from these latter courts 

may be taken to the Minister in charge of local government, statutorily referred to as the Minister of Internal 

Affairs.” Philip A.Z. Banks III, “Liberia,” report prepared for the United States Institute of Peace dated April 

2006, on file with the authors. 

2. While Poro and Sande are not specifically evident in all 

Liberian social contexts, most areas have roughly analogous social institutions that perform somewhat similar 

justice functions.

3. James L. Gibbs, “Poro Values and Courtroom Procedures 

in a Kpelle Chiefdom,” Southwest Journal of Anthropology

18 (1962): 341, 349–50. 

4. One fascinating sociological development is evidence of 

the unprecedented extension of the activity of these 

societies into urban areas such as Monrovia. Seemingly 

a contradiction in terms for societies that are defined 

specifically through their association with the “bush,” 

this development is likely to be highly significant but has 

yet to be empirically studied. 
 25

3

One of the core aims of our research was to get an in-depth 

understanding of how customary justice mechanisms function today, how they go about resolving cases, and who are 

the authorities that resolve disputes. Our data contains an immense amount of information on these questions, which we 

set out in this section.

Continuities in Customary Justice

Mechanisms

One of the basic, though key, findings of our research is that 

customary institutions and practices of justice have clearly 

survived Liberia’s devastating civil war and remain active in 

virtually all of Liberia’s rural communities. Whereas formal 

courts often do not even exist at the local level, or are viewed 

as problematic, our research indicates that customary institutions continue to function in all communities and at all levels down to the most local. It is reasonable to surmise that if 

our research has found strong evidence of the survival and 

continuity of customary justice institutions in Liberia’s most 

conflict-devastated and socially disrupted counties—Lofa, 

Nimba, and Grand Gedeh—it is likely that customary institutions also continue to be equally relevant throughout the 

rest of the country’s rural counties.

We should note that the fact that there are chiefs and 

other customary justice practitioners operating in virtually all 

local communities does not mean that there are not varying 

amounts of tension and conflict over whether particular customary authorities are the legitimate occupants of their positions. However, inasmuch as we were able to determine, these 

are largely residual political questions that trace back to the 

local dynamics of the former civil war, rather than structural 

questions about the functioning or scope of action of the institutions themselves. In other words, there is little indication 

that customary justice would be carried out in markedly different ways if other claimants to these positions actually occupied them. 

A second finding is that the overwhelming majority 

of justice that is being provided in practice to Liberians is 

through one or another form of customary institution. The 

evidence from our own interviews that customary institutions 

are not only reported as generally far more accessible, but also 

as overwhelmingly the preferred forum of first instance for 

most rural Liberians, is corroborated by the Oxford CSAE 

survey. Preliminary analysis found that 89 percent of the disputes that were taken to a third party for resolution by the 

inhabitants of Lofa, Nimba, Grand Gedeh, Bong, and Maryland Counties were taken to a customary authority, whereas 

only 11 percent were taken to a formal institution. Moreover, 

74 percent of the disputes taken to a customary authority had 

already been resolved, whereas only 61 percent of those taken 

to a formal authority had achieved a final resolution.1

A third key finding is that the overarching principles that 

guide the exercise of customary justice have not been fundamentally altered by the Liberian conflict. Customary justice 

practitioners are particularly explicit in claiming that they 

hark back to the models they witnessed before the conflict 

in determining how to go about exercising their own judicial 

authority. 

Principles and Procedures Applied in

Customary Dispute Resolution

The principles and procedures we outline below are derived 

from a triangulated review of 41 extensive interviews with 

chiefs (often along with elders, zoes, and others involved in 

resolution processes), 91 interviews that reviewed the entire 

course of a case’s process with individuals who were parties in 

those cases, and 36 focus groups selected to span key forms 

of sociodemographic difference. In this sense we can confidently state that the basis of our analysis is not merely a matter of reporting what justice practitioners have to say about 

what they do. It also relies on a juxtaposition of such claims 

by many other witnesses and parties with their own particular 

viewpoints and vested interests. At the same time we should 

certainly add the caveat that the principles distilled here also 

reflect the sociogeographic limitations of our work. While our 

review of reports by other organizations and researchers suggests that many of the principles we explain here are broadly 

similar in many other parts of Liberia, it remains wise to cauthe customary justice system
26 Looking for Justice

tion against excessively robust or rigid generalization to other 

areas of the country in the absence of comparable empirical 

and methodologically rigorous field work in those areas. 

Nonbinding arbitration with elements of 

mediation

The overall picture that emerges from our evidence is that 

customary justice proceedings resemble a form of nonbinding 

arbitration, with additional elements of mediation. It is like arbitration in that the decision makers investigate the facts and 

pronounce a judgment to establish the “truth” and the sanction 

for the party at fault. Both customary justice providers and local 

users are very consistent that the rulings pronounced in customary justice settings are not binding in the sense that they can be, 

and often are, appealed to higher authorities in the customary 

system or to the formal system itself. In other words, if one or 

both parties are not satisfied with the ruling of a chief (say a 

town chief) they can reject the decision and bring the dispute to 

the next level of chief (a paramount chief), or even take the case 

to the formal system. Nearly all chiefs interviewed emphasized 

that dissatisfied parties were very welcome to take their case up 

the chain, as maintained in the following exchanges:

Interviewer: In your opinion, if someone disagreed with your decision should that person take 

his grievances to government officials or judge or 

where you think is the right place for the person to 

take his grievances if someone disagrees with your 

decision?

Respondent: If I investigate any case and some 

expresses dissatisfaction concerning my ruling, I 

will prefer them taking my complaint to the commissioner for redress. 

Interviewer: Now most of those cases that your 

people take to the government court for investigation, after the investigation in those places, do 

your people really tell you that, “OK old man, we 

went through the investigation and we were satisfied with the decision”? They can always be satisfied or they can sometimes come with disappointment?

Respondent: Well, they can go to the government 

court and come back in town and I cannot hear 

anything from them and I cannot also go to them 

to ask how the investigation was.

Paramount chief in Nimba

Interviewer: What are the most important types 

of cases you are asked to resolve? 

Respondent: Since my appointment most cases 

that come to me are divorce cases because when 

the town chief fails then they can bring it to me.

Interviewer: How often do these occur? 

Respondent: I receive these cases on the weekly 

basis. . . .

Interviewer: In your opinion, if someone disagrees with your decision should they take their 

complaint to a government official or judge? 

Respondent: Normally for when I gave my ruling 

and you are satisfied, I give you fifteen days to go 

and think about and after the fifteen days, if you 

decide to an appeal, I will grant the appeal to go 

to the paramount chief. Clan chief in Lofa 

The mediative dimension of the chiefs’ justice role is evident in the overall objectives for which they strive in the resolution of cases and in the balance they seek to strike among 

those objectives. Although the specific balance struck among 

different priorities may vary from case to case and across individual justice practitioners, most descriptions of procedures 

and of actual case proceedings suggest that after ascertaining 

the truth of the matter, achieving social reconciliation is the 

overriding concern. Thus, chiefs often speak about “compromising” a case, which means finding a resolution that satisfies both parties and allows them “to leave with smiles on 

their faces.” This means that much of the work of dispute 

resolution is sitting down with both parties and their family members and other people of influence to bring them to 

agreement and acceptance of the resolution. In many cases we 

documented, this means that the prescribed sanction may be 

lessened or even waived if that will help bring about agreement and reconciliation.

The search for the truth

The mediative nature of case resolution does not diminish the 

emphasis on the establishment of the truth. In particular, the 

chiefs strive to ascertain who is at fault and who is innocent 

by getting at a form of “truth” that attends not only to the 

narrow issue at hand, but also identifies and deals with the 

more fundamental root issues and social factors that inform 

the dispute. In the following exchange, a quarter chief contrasted this approach to that of the formal courts:
Part II: Research Findings 27

Respondent: I resolve theft case sometime in July 

between a husband and his wife. The man was 

living in different area and the wife as well. In the 

absence of the man she went and broke the house 

door opened. When the man returned, he took 

the complaint to the town chief and accused the 

woman of breaking in his house with criminal 

intents. In this light, the chief decided to refer the 

case to me as his boss since it was criminal in 

nature. The complaint came to me try my best to 

put it under control.

Interviewer: How did you resolve this case?

Respondent: I frankly told the woman that she 

has no color of right to go and break into the 

man’s house. I also told the man that he should 

be factual enough not to falsely complaint of 

things that were actually not stolen from his 

house. It was at that point that he admitted that 

the woman only took his mattress but he has 

since retrieved it from her so she was forgiven. 

Prior to coming to me, the man told the town 

chief that his 5,000 LD [Liberian dollars] was 

missing as a result of the intrusion into his house 

but he did not mention that to me since he chose 

to be sincere. These are some of the things that 

the justice system doesn’t understand but they 

are common cases for us to resolve. Can you 

imagine if that was made to return 5,000 LD 

that she has no idea on what would happen? 

That was going to bring about big rivalry among 

their both families. . . .

Interviewer: Why should government not interfere in case that belongs to chief?

Respondent: Because they will not solve it properly. They will only look on the surface. When you 

see cow toilet somewhere, on the top is dry while 

beneath is very wet, so it is with these government. 

When they come to handle such a case that they 

are not familiar with, they only deal with the surface and leave the root cause. We as traditional 

leaders live with the people and we know the root 

causes of some of the conflict that is what puts in 

a better position to be able to solve it. That why 

the other case was sent back to us. 

Quarter chief in Lofa 

This view that customary forums are more attentive to the 

causal root issues and thus more effective in resolving disputes 

was not only claimed by chiefs but was also widely articulated 

by most of the individual litigants we interviewed, as well as 

in most of our focus groups:

The best way possible to settle land or any dispute 

in our area is to go through the elders in the community, who will talk the case between you and 

the next person. But when you go to court, you are 

calling for war because whoever the court says is 

wrong will keep grudge in his, her heart for the 

next person. Peaceful solution can be found 

through the elders because they understand the 

problem. If you go to the elders and you are not 

satisfied, then you can go to court.

Male elder in Nimba

There won’t be satisfaction between the both parties because the court’s ruling could have decided 

that Paye Konah, even though did not do it intentionally. After this length of time in prison, he will 

be declared freed and come home. These will 

bring some dissatisfaction in our mind about the 

way he was treated. But the way we resolved this 

traditional was good. We will all know that Paye 

Konah had not committed such and he is known 

as one of the peaceful boy in our community. So 

this matter was settled traditionally and that we 

are all living in peace and harmony with each 

other. Male elder in Nimba 

In attempting to discover the truth and ascertain guilt or 

innocence, chiefs do not make determinations on their own. 

Rather, they rely extensively on the counsel and participation 

of community elders and sometimes representatives of specific social constituencies such as youth, or even elder members 

of the families of the contending parties. They specifically seek 

out the counsel of what might be termed “expert witnesses” 

who can provide insight into either the deeper social dynamics that underwrite the root truth of a matter (such as in the 

case of elders from the families of aggrieved parties), or on 

the substantive issue in question (such as in cases where elders 

knowledgeable about customary land boundaries are asked to 

testify). We found rather extensive evidence of chiefs taking 

careful measures to ensure that the information they received 
28 Looking for Justice

was in fact as objective as possible—for example, by taking 

several elder “land specialists” separately to testify about a land 

boundary in order to confirm and ultimately cross-check their 

independent determinations. Chiefs are also joined by elders 

when they summon and interview witnesses.

This extensive social consultation process serves several 

important functions beyond that of drawing upon expert 

knowledge or even ascertaining and developing strategies for 

addressing the deeper social factors that inform a dispute. To 

the extent that decisions are the product of an open and public 

process of establishing consensus among leading community 

members and family heads, their weight is reinforced and the 

social pressure for parties to accept and comply with them is 

increased. This influence is further informed by the relatively 

weighty roles that kinship and gerontocratic forms of authority play in Liberian rural society. 

Finally, a broader consultative process ensures that a wider 

range of social stakeholders’ interests than merely those of the 

immediate parties can be accounted for. While this possibility 

may realize certain Liberian sociocultural ideals (such as the 

need to mitigate broader social conflict and to attend to the 

interests of corporate groups, such as the family, rather than 

merely those of the individuals), it should be noted that this 

is often viewed as a significant problem and a subversion of 

justice by rule of law practitioners who subscribe to narrower 

concepts of justice that focus almost exclusively on the rights 

of individuals. 

The reason I supposed to handle it is that if I 

handle such case it can be resolved and my people 

can be satisfied. Actually when I ascended to this 

chief position I observed that when two mates 

fight, they will be taken to the magistrate court for 

investigation and after the magistrate investigation the problem becomes worse. In fact when 

they are there, they are asked to pay bond fees and 

after the bond they both come home and live in 

the same house with the same man. Then the 

frustrating part is that we who are chief do not eat 

anything from the case while out there with the 

magistrate and when home we hear the noise. 

After a while they come back to us to resolve the 

matter. The important part that we can play in it 

now is that we have to invite the entire family of 

the both parties. As for the court, they only issue 

writ against the people who had the dispute for 

investigation but as for us we invite all of parents 

and ask them why are you sitting and looking at 

these people making palaver. What’s the cause? 

The second lady does not want to respect me as 

wife of this home. And while investigating the 

matter we do not focus on money but then main 

issue that occurred and what are the underlying 

causes. Zone chief in Nimba

Many chiefs also cite admission as a critical tool in uncovering the truth. There is considerable evidence in our interviews that confessions often come willingly once a process 

deemed fair is underway. When an aggrieved party approaches elders or chiefs in order to “compromise” a case, the guilty 

party often admits fault in order to end the dispute and find 

an acceptable sanction. Often family members and elders play 

a role in coaxing the admission, emphasizing the importance 

of ending social conflict. In some cases, the threat of greater 

sanctions should the case go into the formal court system also 

serves to encourage confession.

For certain cases when admissions are not forthcoming, 

and in particular in matters of witchcraft and theft, some form 

of trial by ordeal (TBO) is cited by most chiefs and Liberians 

interviewed as the preferred means of ascertaining the truth. 

Our data indicates quite a variety of both methods and uses 

of TBO, from the most lethal, such as the ingestion of a poisonous concoction believed to bring illness or death to the 

guilty, to an oath taken by witnesses on dirt, water, or some 

other substance (akin to swearing on the Bible). Because of 

the highly charged nature of TBO, we take this up in detail in 

a later section of this report.

Redress aimed at social reconciliation

The forms of redress and punishment that are meted out by 

chiefs tend to be responsive to the overriding goal of social 

reconciliation. This has several elements. The first is a bottomline concern with taking measures to ensure that incorrect behavior is not repeated. Rarely, however, is mere punishment—

in the sense of depriving a perpetrator of liberty, life, physical 

comfort, or economic assets—regarded as the most effective 

way to ensure bad behavior is not repeated (see text box 1). 

Instead, a key deterrent seems to be the public shame brought 

on the guilty party through his or her public admission 

of guilt. Moreover, most Liberians would agree that recidivism is ultimately only likely to be deterred by resolving the 

root cause of the dispute rather than merely punishing errant 
behavior. In fact, mere punishment without social reconciliation may be regarded as actually aggravating root causes and 

antagonisms that trigger even worse and unwanted behavior 

between litigants.

A second element of reconciliation is compensation, or 

repair of the harm. Repair for some forms of harm involves a 

focus on wronged individuals. Thus, for example, if goods were 

stolen from someone, they should be returned to that person 

by the thief, along with any costs the victim incurred in resolving the dispute. Generally speaking, however, compensation 

is subordinate to the overall goal of reconciliation. As noted 

above, we collected a number of cases in which victims actually volunteered to forgo compensation when a party who had 

been ascertained as guilty by a chief could not pay in order to 

facilitate the reconciliation process.

Other offenses viewed as having been committed primarily against the community as a whole (e.g., disorderly conduct, 

public insult, bearing false witness, avoiding communal work 

responsibilities) may require forms of atonement toward the 

community as a whole, most often by cooking a meal for the 

community or paying a public fine. As at least two respondents reported, public fines are generally deposited into the 

community treasury to be used for development projects, such 

as the construction of a building for midwives or a school:

In our town here there is an ordinance on stealing 

and when an individual steals, he is strictly 

brought to my office for investigation and if it is 

proven that he/she stole, I transfer him/her to the 

traditional elders who in turn impose fine on the 

culprit. The usually imposed on people who commit theft is he/she will kill cattle and cook for the 

town people. This serves as a penalty for such act 

not to be repeated. Clan chief in Nimba 

When [goat, sheep and hogs] are given, the town 

people cook food with [them] and they deposit the 

money in the treasure for development purpose. 

The midwife houses you see were not built by the 

government. They were erected by the citizens 

themselves from the fines collected from people 

who violated the town’s rules. 

Male zoe in Nimba

Securing public apologies is usually also an integral ingredient to achieving a resolution that verifies truth and achieves 

reconciliation and results in the most important measure of 

success: that both parties leave satisfied with the result and 

without harboring (or at least expressing publicly) hostility 

toward each other. Apologies are not just a gesture toward the 

Part II: Research Findings 29

Text box 1

Traditional resolution of unintentional killing

In a hunting accident, A killed B. A denied the act until marks were discovered on his back. At that point he was brought 

to the Poro bush where he confessed (the interviewee insisted that in this case there was no trial by ordeal or other 

coercive means). He was then brought to the police and jailed. A’s relatives pleaded with B’s family to resolve the case 

traditionally. While they initially refused, an uncle of B, acting as a mediator, persuaded the family to withdraw the case 

as it was an accident. After a series of apologies, B’s family agreed, as long as A’s family paid for the expenses they 

had accrued, which amounted to more than 50,000 Liberian dollars (covering transport fees for their lawyers and fees 

for those who had searched for B). When A’s family responded that they did not have money to cover the expenses, 

B’s family agreed that instead they should sacrifice one sheep, one goat, and one hog for the spirit of the deceased to 

depart in peace. The two families ate together and “knocked glasses together which proves true reconciliation.” 

“What satisfied us, was he confessed that he is the doer of the act. And even myself asked him and he said that he 

didn’t do it intentionally. So he asked for forgiveness and that he didn’t mean to kill the boy.”

The uncle, a male elder in Nimba who recounted the case, explained why traditional resolution was best for both 

parties: “If this man had remained in the hands of the police or court, bribery was going to take place and this man 

was going to be released by the police or court overnight. And that could brought misfeelings between his and us, the 

victim’s parents. . . . There won’t be satisfaction between the both parties because the court’s ruling could have decided 

that A, even though he did not do it intentionally, but the penalty was that he will be sent to prison for either five or ten 

years. After this length of time in prison, he will be declared freed and come home. These will bring some dissatisfaction 

in our mind about the way he was treated.”
victim; they also serve 

as an important opportunity of redemption 

for the perpetrator—an 

opportunity absent in 

formal proceedings. To 

quote one chief: “The 

first thing is to make 

peace between the people, the second thing is to tell the truth 

and apologize.” 

In order to secure genuine social reconciliation, redress 

also usually involves some form of reconciliation ritual 

among the formerly aggrieved parties. Prominent examples 

are the sharing of a kola nut, the knocking of glasses together, or the placing of hands on the back (an act of forgiveness) 

of a child or junior kin member. More than merely public 

signs, these ritual acts are believed by many Liberians to have 

important effects that mitigate sociospiritual danger or insecurity. Thus, sharing the kola nut is described as a “sacrifice” 

that will dampen the activity of spirits that can cause ill will 

to flourish, and placing the hand upon a child’s back is described as binding the forgiver to that commitment, on peril 

of suffering a curse should he or she later renege. Stated one 

adult male respondent:

The traditional way is good because whenever you 

go wrong, and they fine you. Even if you wrong 

XYZ, they will tell you the fact, even though it 

may hurt. But the fact will be told and later they 

will bring the both of you together as brother and 

sister. Male adult in Nimba 

While the vast majority of cases are resolved using some 

combination of the above elements, exceptionally egregious 

acts—such as brutal rape and murder—and repeated delinquency are apparently viewed as beyond social repair, even 

when they are committed by members of the community. In 

such cases, punishment and compensation become the overriding objectives, and there is far greater willingness to refer 

these cases to the formal system.

It is worth noting that some chiefs refer to the use of 

prisons and corporal punishment (usually lashes or a form of 

stockade known as “country handcuffs”) as something that 

they used in the past, and in some cases, as something they 

would like to have at their disposal again. Our data indicates 

only a rare use of force for punishment, although a somewhat 

greater tendency to use force in the process of detaining and 

investigating a perpetrator.

Enforcement

As noted, a key feature of customary law is that it aims for a 

solution agreed upon by both parties. A party that does not 

accept the resolution is free to reject it and appeal to the next 

level. Decisions of customary courts thus are not coercively 

enforced. Social pressure, however, is a heavy factor in ensuring that the parties accept and carry out the decision in the 

case. This comes in a number of forms, most directly by family members and elders who appeal directly to the parties to 

accept the resolution for the sake of ending the conflict and 

feelings of ill will. In several cases, when parties chose to bring 

the dispute to formal authorities—sometimes out of dissatisfaction with the customary result, but more often because they 

felt they could leverage the formal system to their advantage—

community members intervened to return the dispute to the 

chiefs to resolve amicably. The data also reveals an implicit or 

sometimes explicit threat that failure to accept the resolution 

will lead to ostracism. As one respondent reported, 

When we judge the case and find out that you 

wrong, then we will tell you that this is what you 

did to your friend and don’t do it next time. If you 

continue doing it, our law is nobody will speak to 

30 Looking for Justice

Text box 2

“The reason why these cases should be handled by us is that we as chiefs know the condition of our people. And these 

people are very poor and financially [in]capable of defending themselves in government court. For example, if an 

individual from this town is collected and sent to court and is guilty. If he fails to pay the court fines and expenses, he 

is sent to jail and the rest of the family behind him that are depending on him for support, will definitely suffer. But as 

is the traditional people, if these cases occur we look at the condition of our people and amicably resolve it. But in the 

court the disputing parties have to hire lawyer to plead for them, which requires lot of expenses. As for us our fines are 

like one chicken or one cattle to cook for the community and the both parties remain in the scene and reconcile.” 

Paramount chief in Nimba

“The first thing is to 

make peace between 

the people, the second 

thing is to tell the truth 

and apologize.”
Part II: Research Findings 31

Text box 3

“The advantage we have over the statutory courts when it comes to handling these matters especially stealing is, when 

someone is suspected of stealing and reported to the court/police, the police jail the person and if the victim does not 

stand strong with money the suspect is released by the police but as for us the traditional people, we embarrass the suspect 

and find quick evidence to prove. We rather help the victim by not requesting for much money, so we are far better than 

them in handling criminal matters.” Clan chief in Nimba

you in the whole town. Everybody will cut speech 

from you and you can’t go take fire from anybody 

house unless you buy your own matches. Before 

two or three days when you come to yourself, then 

you say, “OK, what I did is wrong, look how 

everybody in this town and the town is big and 

nobody can’t speak to me.” 

Town chief in Grand Gedeh

Finally, for many, the fear of a worse result in the formal 

system serves as a motivating factor to accept the customary 

resolution. This may be due to the party’s inability to access 

the formal system at all, or to a credible fear of bias and/or 

more severe treatment.

Costs and fees

The overall costs of entry into the customary justice system 

are considerably lower than those in the formal system—and 

sometimes even free. Moreover, our research points to a fairly 

consistent practice of communities using a well-established 

and commonly known standard set of fees for many offenses 

(see table 5). The cost structure of the customary system is 

thus not only much lower but also far more consistent, less 

arbitrary, and more transparent than in the formal system. 

Collected fees tend to be used to cover transportation or 

other administrative costs, including the cost of stationery, 

and/or are distributed directly among the chiefs or elders who 

resolve cases. Many chiefs, verified by case interviews, report 

forgoing fees for parties who cannot afford them, accepting 

chickens or rice in lieu of money, or substituting fees with 

work for the chief or the community. 

Sources of Authority of Chiefs

The principles discussed earlier in this section are applied by 

a relatively well-established hierarchy of chiefs, who make up 

the state-recognized customary courts. Significantly, these 

chiefs have a dual basis of authority. One of these sources of 

authority and legitimacy is the local community itself. Chiefs 

are cognizant that they must remain highly responsive to the 

concerns of local communities and their demands for justice 

in order to maintain a local basis of legitimacy: 

Interviewer: Now let me understand this, as chief 

of [this] town . . . are you answerable directly to 

the superintendant, or answerable directly to the 

town?

Respondent: Yes, I am answerable first to the 

town people. Town chief in Nimba

It bears noting that in contrast to many other social settings in Africa, many communities in Liberia have a stronger tradition of choosing chiefs through elective processes 

rather than merely through hereditary procedures. According 

to an earlier study, the election of all chiefs at the town level 

or higher was a policy actually dictated by the Liberian state 

well before the recent civil war.2 Although we can only speak 

tangentially to the subject of the post-conflict state of the local legitimacy of chiefs throughout Liberia,3

 this particularity 

certainly suggests that their legitimacy is far more likely to be 

a function of performative criteria than is the case in many 

other contexts where other selection criteria are enshrined 

either by custom or law. Elections are likely to increase the 

importance of the community as a source of legitimacy and 

require greater social responsiveness to the community by 

chiefs than is often the case in systems that privilege hereditary principles for selecting customary authorities. Comments 

from some of the chiefs that we interviewed certainly suggest 

as much. As one noted,

When you are called chief, you are not just a chief 

that can talk, but you are the one that gives power. 

Now as a chief, it left with you to hold your people 

good, if you can’t, then they will impeach you. . . . 

For example, because of the way I have served my 

people, I have spent twenty-nine years in power.

Chief in Nimba
32 Looking for Justice

It is this sense of local legitimacy that also underwrites 

chiefs’ express beliefs that they are the best equipped to understand and deal with most justice issues in their communities, 

and therefore should be granted at least as much latitude to 

do so as they believe was once the case, and that they should 

not be circumvented in the justice process. Nearly all chiefs 

we interviewed felt that, despite state policies limiting their 

jurisdiction, they should be allowed to resolve any kind of dispute brought to them by the two parties, as exemplified by the 

following excerpts:

Respondent: When a rape case is brought before 

me to be investigated with the understanding and 

concern of the both parents that, “Yes, we want for 

you to settle this matter,” then I can investigate it 

and be resolved. But I will not register the fact that 

this case is mine and I have jurisdiction over it. 

Interviewer: Why you feel that if a case is brought 

to you with the understanding of the disputing 

parties’ parent you will settle it? 

Respondent: I was elected to settle home dispute among my people, so if they can come to me 

with one understanding that I should settle a 

dispute between them, why not, I will be willing 

to do so.

Interviewer: You are saying that your people 

elected you to settle matters that are affecting 

them like house matters?

Respondent: Fine. Paramount chief in Nimba

Interviewer: Now another case we have here is 

severe physical violence—cases that occur when 

people go to co-op [cooperative] to work and misunderstanding occur between them and some of 

them pick up cutlasses and chop someone and have 

them wounded or where group of men pick up cutlasses and mortar pestle and enter into dispute and 

people get wounded in the midst of the dispute. Do 

you sometimes receive these cases in your court?

Respondent: When these cases occur, we can 

send them to the commissioner for investigation. 

Interviewer: So it is not under your jurisdiction? 

Respondent: No.

Interviewer: But when such case happens to be 

brought in your court, would you like for it to be 

investigated by you? 

Respondent: Yes.

Interviewer: Why you think you should be 

allowed to investigate such case?

Respondent: My people elected me to lead them 

so when such opportunity is given me, I will be 

very obligated about it.

Interviewer: Why you think your people should 

allow you to investigate severe physical violent 

case?

Respondent: In the first place, I was elected to 

serve as chief for them so if they bring a case to me 

and I traditionally handle it, they will be very 

happy because they won’t spend more money 

before me to get justice and they will regard me as 

their chief. Secondly, I will also have it in mind 

that they are my people and I am for them. 

Interviewer: The next question to you is that, why 

you feel that it is better for you to handle palaver 

from your people than the court to do so? 

Respondent: It is because my people elected me to 

handle dispute in their midst and not the court.

 Clan chief in Nimba

Table 5: Standard Fee* per Justice Practitioner Consultation

Average Median

Theft 299 150

Land Dispute 192 150

Labor, Debt, or Market Dispute 218 150

Violent Crime 282 250

Other 133 50

* Fees are representative of sitting fees paid to Justice Practitioners, and do not reflect standard fines or penalties for particular cases. Fees 

are also oversampled for Lofa County, with limited information available for Nimba and Grand Gedeh.
Part II: Research Findings 33

The other source of a chief ’s authority and legitimacy is 

the Liberian state itself, specifically the Ministry of Internal 

Affairs. Chiefs quite clearly think of themselves as the local 

extension of the authority of the Liberian state, as evidenced 

in statements such as the following: 

Interviewer: Do you consult with a government 

official about a case?

Respondent: Yes, I sometimes consult the judge, 

the commissioner and the police.

Interviewer: Why do you go to them for 

consultation?

Respondent: Because we are all government official and it is sometimes wise to get their advice. 

Paramount chief in Lofa

Our normal cases that are agreed upon by law 

should continue to be left with us as except in the 

situation where it is going out of control. But I still 

think that government has part in all the cases 

that are resolved by chiefs because the chief is the 

eye of the government.

Clan chief in Lofa

On virtually all matters that fall under the purview of 

their local authority—whether these pertain to justice issues 

or not—chiefs regard their point of articulation with the Liberian state to be the relevant local officials of the Ministry 

of Internal Affairs. The following exchange was repeated in 

almost every interview with a chief:

Interviewer: In matter of deciding justice, who 

has authority over the chiefs?

Respondent: The commissioner is the one who 

has power and authority over me.

Interviewer: That is from the Ministry of Internal 

Affairs. Is there anybody from the Ministry of 

Justice?

Respondent: No.

Quarter chief in Lofa

Generally chiefs note that the proper chain of command 

is from the lowest chief (usually quarter chief) up to the highest (paramount chief), and from there to the district commissioner. The most notable exceptions to this hierarchy are 

cases of either outright witchcraft, or in which witchcraft is 

a suspected contributing 

factor. In such instances 

a referral to a Poro ritual 

official by a chief (or 

sometimes even by a 

district commissioner or 

county superintendant) 

is likely. Poro officials 

are also likely to receive 

referrals from a chief on 

any cases in which both 

litigants are Poro members. 

It bears noting that the chieftancy throughout Liberia is 

not an institution that deals solely with justice issues. Rather, 

chiefs also perform administrative, socioreligious, and ritualcultural functions—and are both authorized by the state and 

expected by local populations to do so. This highlights a fundamental difference between local and Western-oriented expectations about what justice institutions should and should 

not do. Whereas international rule of law standards call for 

full independence of the judiciary, many Liberians (and one 

should note many other rural societies in Africa and beyond) 

see judiciary functions (particularly local ones) as merely one 

among several facets of responsibility that are legitimately 

vested in a single authority figure. 

The multifaceted nature of the chiefs’ role may also be a 

factor that affects the pathways cases take, some moving from 

the chiefs’ courts directly into the formal system, while others move up through the chain of officials in the Ministry of 

Internal Affairs.

Ultimately there are numerous factors that play into the 

pathways that cases take, and these are explored more fully 

later in this report. However, there seems to be an overall 

trend that disputes rooted in local customs and disputes involving the chieftancy are referred to and handled by the 

district commissioner and/or the county superintendent—

in line with their roles as overseers of traditional authorities 

and their responsibility for maintaining local order. Thus, 

for example, our interviews cover a number of disputes 

stemming from clashes between the Poro and local religious 

groups, most often involving the demand that all nonmembers of the Poro go indoors during the appearance of the 

Poro “devil.” Where chiefs cannot resolve these matters, 

the district commissioner is often called in by the chiefs 

to urge the groups to respect one another’s religious and 

cultural beliefs. In one case where youths beat a paramount 

Many Liberians . . . 

see judiciary functions 

(particularly local 

ones) as merely one 

among several facets of 

responsibility that are 

legitimately vested in a 

single authority figure. 
34 Looking for Justice

chief, the superintendent formed a Tribal Council to bring 

them to justice.4 The involvement of Ministry of Internal 

Affairs officials is also more likely to be solicited in witchcraft cases, in particular those that create disturbances of 

the peace. In several of our interviews, officials from the 

Ministry of Internal Affairs were said to have intervened in 

such cases. As one male respondent stated:

Sometime ago some people joined a society called 

“Zoebayoo,”5 wherein they used to make medicine 

for husbands and wives to divorce. Or sometimes 

they throw signs on people to make you paralyze, 

or they even killed you for your own land business 

if you had a land case with them, so that you will 

not be able to defend your land. But Internal 

Affairs was able to step into this problem by bringing sassywood.6 And all those who were involved 

in the act were caught and they confessed their 

crimes. Male youth in Tappita

However, interviewees also expressed some chagrin at the 

apparent refusal of some—though not all—Ministry of Internal Affairs officials to respond to this demand. One zoe in 

Nimba summed up typical views on the respective roles of the 

Ministry of Internal Affairs and Ministry of Justice (MOJ):

I want to say the same government that considered 

that Ministry of Justice to exist as a ministry in 

this country is the same government that considered that Ministry of Internal Affairs. And so I 

am also advising and asking the government not to 

allow the Ministry of Justice to interfere into the 

Ministry of Internal Affairs mandate. The MOJ 

cannot investigate witchcraft matters or activities. 

Rather it is the town, clan, paramount and zone 

chiefs all the way to county superintendent that 

are responsible for anything that happens in the 

community and we say our interest is in it because 

it happened in our communities. Let the justice 

minister realize that these local officials names 

above are the direct leaders of the towns, villages, 

clans and counties and are abreast of the day to day 

problem that affects their communities. And those 

things that has to do with our culture and tradition and our customary law should solely be left in 

our purview and not the MOJ. 

Male Zoe in Nimba

Other Customary Actors

If chiefs derive their legitimacy from a “dual basis of authority” 

(the state and the local community), there is a second category 

of customary justice practitioners whose basis of legitimacy is 

singularly derived from local communities. Among the most 

prominent in this category are the ritual officers (masters, 

zoes) of the Poro and Sande societies (and their institutional 

analogs in other ethnic settings throughout rural Liberia not 

covered by this study in which other specific “initiation/secret 

societies” perform structural social functions that are broadly 

comparable). In this second category of solely communitybased authority, our research also indicates an important role 

played by imams for those who profess Islam. There is also 

some indications of a role played by church leaders, in particular of Pentecostal and charismatic sects, by professional 

association officials, such as market associations, and by ethnic 

chiefs, such as local Fula chiefs. 

Our research data does not contain much information 

on the specific procedures that are used within secret societies (such as the Poro and Sande) to determine truth or guilt 

and to provide redress for the simple reason that secrecy about 

these procedures is a defining characteristic of these groups. 

Nevertheless, we do have fairly interesting and important data 

that provides us with information about the relationships and 

interactions between these societies and other customary and 

formal institutional actors. We are therefore able to define at 

least some of the key roles that these groups are assigned and 

play within the institutional justice topography as a whole.

Much as family heads and elders are expected to serve as the 

first line of customary resolution for disputes that arise within 

immediate and extended families, Poro society officials and 

imams, and in some cases pastors, are expected to be the first—

and often ultimate—authorities to deal with disputes that arise 

among members of their constituent groups. In the case of Poro 

society officials in particular, this expectation can extend to even 

significant crimes that technically should be referred to the formal court system (such as cases of violence that result in blood 

and rape), as evidenced in the following exchange:

Interviewer: What are the cases that the chief is 

to handle and not to handle?

Respondent: Well the town chief controls only B 

Town but as traditional [Poro] chairman, I control 

two clans. . . . Most of these cases that he talked 
Part II: Research Findings 35

about like rape, fighting, stealing, land dispute, I 

have experienced all in my office. I have handled 

and resolved most of it. Even a rape case was 

brought in my office in D Town and I resolved it 

peacefully. When the incident took place, the 

Poros master (devil) came out and some staffs 

from [NGO 1] and [NGO 2] came to take the 

case but I told them that it was under my jurisdiction. I have the owner to investigate any matter 

that occurs in the midst of the Poro’s members. 

Poro “chairman” in Nimba

In the counties in which our research was conducted, 

certain issues are also usually viewed as the sole purview of 

Poro authorities regardless of whether the offender is a Poro 

society member. This is most pronounced in the case of witchcraft. While chiefs report that they have always for the most 

part referred such cases to Poro authorities, several reported 

that the government’s prohibition against TBO has reinforced 

their reliance on the Poro in order to control this problem. As 

one respondent stated:

I will strongly advise the government not to take 

away our culture because when we are about to go 

in the bush to brush the government farm, communal farm and undertake some public project, 

some individual can refuse to go there. And it is 

the help of the Poro that enables us to discipline 

these stubborn guys.

Male elder in Nimba

Some chiefs also state that when there are cases of extreme 

and uncontrollable violence, Poro authorities, rather than state 

officials, are called upon to intervene as a measure of last resort. Similarly, cases of disorderly conduct among women, especially involving public insult, seem to be most often referred 

to Sande society officials. 

One of the more problematic issues that has arisen of 

late within a number of communities is between Poro society 

members and nonmembers. In particular, disputes arise when 

nonmembers refuse to defer to demands that safeguard the 

imperative of secrecy of these societies, when they feel that 

in doing so their own individual rights or religious-based 

customs are being infringed upon. Traditionally, violations of 

secrecy, such as nonmembers refusing to go indoors during 

certain rituals, or inadvertently entering certain areas during 

ritual times, were dealt with by involuntary conscription into 

the Poro society. Customary chiefs and state officials alike 

have varied in their abilities and strategies for responding to 

these issues. 

In some cases local chiefs have effectively exercised their 

authority to negotiate compromises and find mutually acceptable accommodations that prioritize the reestablishment of 

social harmony—or at least mutual tolerance within the community. Thus, in one notable example, a chief found that both 

the Poro society was at fault for bringing the “devil to town” on 

a Sunday when Pentecostal congregants were likely to be out 

and that the congregants were also at fault because they stayed 

outside when the bush devil came into town. The implied 

resolution was that the Poro could not perform their rituals 

on Sundays and that on other days the congregants should 

abide by established custom that required that all non-Poro 

members to stay indoors when the “devil came to town.” 

In a manner not dissimilar to that which informs the sensibilities of parents who send miscreant children to attend 

military schools in the United States so that they will learn 

social structure and discipline, disorderly conduct within local 

communities was traditionally dealt with through the exercise 

of concerted social pressure, and sometimes outright coercion, 

to get parents to commit their children to the Poro (or for 

young women, the Sande) Societies’ “bush education.” As two 

respondents stated: 

Sande society is an informal school where our 

females are sent to be trained and learn other 

skills. When they return from there, they become 

very respectful and diligent.

 Paramount chief in Nimba

Even in the town, when children are going off hand 

we asked the parents to send them in the Poro bush. 

When they come from there, they behave very 

intelligent because of the advices and warnings they 

receive. So this method is helping us to gradually 

ease the problem faced by our people.

 Male zoe in Nimba

Limitations of Customary Justice: Local

Perspectives

While our research clearly points to the vitality of customary 

justice in postwar Liberia, it also reveals some of the limits of 

the system in achieving justice. Limits from the point of view 
36 Looking for Justice

of international standards will be explored in the section on 

policy options and trade-offs. In this section, we focus on local 

perspectives of the limits of customary justice, as articulated 

by our interviewees. These fall into two intersecting categories: inherent limits of customary justice, and limits created by 

external factors.

A first limitation of customary forums recognized by many 

chiefs themselves is that their intervention only works when 

litigants share an interest in, or are at least open to, the goal of 

reconciliation. This is not always the case, a fact attributed by 

a variety of interviewees to the social disruptiveness caused by 

Liberia’s recent conflict. As one interviewee noted:

Like the sassywood business we are talking about, 

there are some matters that cannot be resolved by 

the circuit court except those who put them 

together. Take for example, if we decide to do a 

thing before doing it we have to face the law you 

know that. If we say we doing it like this, and one 

person failed to follow that he or she will receive 

the punishment. If that punishment comes we all 

will be there, the town chiefs, the chairlady and we 

all will explain to you to that person again and ask 

you why the time mentioned to do this or that 

have been disrespected therefore, your punishment 

worth its equivalent. These are some of the advantages coming here. These are things the children 

don’t obey today. If you tell them to go brush the 

road they will tell you no. When you tell them let’s 

go to the town farm they will tell you they can’t 

whereby any contribution or work needs to be 

done in the town should be shoulder by everyone. 

But someone said human right says no one should 

be forced to do anything. In this case, when the 

hunger comes it is the town chief who will be held 

responsible. So in this case when you are fined for 

disobeying the laws of the town then you take the 

matter to the court, because you depend on something there. These are what we are facing here in 

our district. Female elders in Lofa

It seems that the motivation to reconcile increases to the 

extent that litigants are part of the same local community. This 

highlights another significant limit of customary justice in the 

Liberian context: it is viewed as most effective in dealing with 

intracommunity cases but often as far less so in intercommunity situations or when one of the litigants is an outsider, as 

the following exchange indicates:

Interviewer: Are there any traditional way of settling [this land] dispute? 

Respondent: Where we have now reached there is 

no traditional options. 

Interviewer: OK. Because in some places they 

have the elders of the district who are ranked in 

certain quarters, they are allowed to draw wisdoms of these things to look into these matters. 

Are there any?

Respondent: It would be good for us to consider 

such only if the land dispute is between sons of 

this place. It is very unfortunate for “G” because he 

is not from here. He does not have any link with 

these traditional people, so in an attempt to engage 

that, they will say that we are trying for us to go 

against the law to have upper hand to dupe them.

Male elder in Nimba

This limitation is highlighted in particularly consequential ways within communities that are ethnically and/or religiously diverse, particularly when partisanship in the recently 

ended war was organized along these sectarian lines. In at least 

some of our interviews minority group members within such 

communities identified the very custom applied by customary 

institutions as inherently biased against them and thus incapable of providing them with justice:

Anytime one carries a complaint to one of their 

members [Poro society member] the case will 

never be cut with one ruling. This means that 

anyone who is not a member of the Poro society 

will never be right in any case. 

Male Mandingo adult in Lofa

I think that we said the same thing to the 

Commissioner recently; we said we want the 

other elders to involve the other elders. Let them 

work together as usual. Because before the [war], 

the old man who was the head of the elder, he 

used to have the Mandingo on the other side and 

the Mano on the other side. They all used to join 

and do things for common before the war. But 

since then they split. They can’t invite these 
Part II: Research Findings 37

people at all, but anything they saying here the 

elders of this town, who are the elders, only the 

Mano elder.

Male elders in Nimba 

The reason she said that she is not satisfied is, 

according to her, the case was judged in based on 

tribalism. And because the case was judged in 

Mano, so she will not accept the ruling.

Female adult in Nimba

However, we also found evidence in some places of established and still working mechanisms for negotiating solutions 

in cases in which disputants invoked different customs (see 

text box 4). 

Erosion of the status and authority of customary institutions due to external factors was another frequently cited 

limitation. Many chiefs feel they are less effective in definitively resolving cases, that locals rely less upon their services, 

and that they have suffered erosion in the authority they are 

able to exercise in the overall provision of justice. Quite a 

number of chiefs expressed regret at the perceived erosion 

of their authority within their communities, as evidenced by 

the following statements:

The statutory law is trying to interrupt in our 

customary law thus making our customary law to 

appear ugly to our people but we ourselves are 

standing firm to protect our traditional system to 

be respected. Male zoe in Nimba

We who fathers, served as chiefs, elders, they have 

told us in short that we have no part to play there 

anymore. Male elders in Nimba

So we are actually downplayed by the citizens. We 

are no regarded as chiefs any longer. We are not 

allowed to collect any bond fee nor writ fees. All 

we are to do is to collect only sitting fee which is 

just little amount. . . . Our people do not regard us 

any longer, we are completely down. So as the 

result when we sometimes invite law breaker they 

deliberately refuse saying there is no writ. 

Paramount chief in Nimba

The social dynamics of the war may have certainly played 

a role in this process. Most specifically, the war may have 

affected how younger generations view the legitimacy of 

customary authorities. However, we also interviewed young 

men who actually urged the government to grant greater 

authority to elders and other customary justice practitioners and that greater emphasis be placed on customary resolution mechanisms in order to resolve pressing issues. In 

the following example, young men expressed the need for 

greater power to traditional authorities to deal with witchText box 4

Interviewer: How was this resolved?

Respondent: The traditional leaders and the police resolved it. We were advised that we only need to respect one another. 

When a group is praying, the other should respect it. 

Interviewer: Can you describe the ruling that was given in details? 

Respondent: The ruling is that each group must pay respect to one another. That is, if one group is praying the other must 

observe the rule by respecting them. Then we will live in peace. This is why they said they must respect one another’s 

culture.

Interviewer: Did you consider the ruling to be fair?

Respondent: It was fair except that they didn’t say whether a group was wrong or right.

Interviewer: Did they give reason why they never said who was right or wrong?

Respondent: They said they’ve come to only reunite and not to pass judgment.

Interviewer: Did the other party to the conflict see the ruling as fair?

Respondent: We all accepted it.

Interviewer: Why do you think they too accepted the ruling?

Respondent: They too had their representatives among the group that came to settle the dispute.
38 Looking for Justice

craft, which they felt was responsible for the death of many 

young people:

The idea of stopping sassywood is to our detriment. At any time witchcraft can go and perform 

and you can’t say anything because the government says that there should be no sassywood. We 

want the government to bring the sassywood business back because it is our custom. Let them leave 

it with the older people so that when a witch commits a crime we will know.

Male youth in Grand Gedeh

Our evidence thus suggests that the war’s effects on generational attitudes toward customary justice may be somewhat 

mixed. In our view this certainly is an area that merits more 

empirical research that can shed more light than our data is 

able to provide.

Interestingly, according to our data, the most significant 

limitations on the effectiveness of the customary justice system tend to be attributed—by chiefs, litigants, and focus group 

participants alike—to new government policies that restrict 

the jurisdiction of chiefs and the methods they can deploy to 

ascertain truth and resolve cases. We will discuss these perceptions in far greater depth later in this report.

Notes

1. Sandefur, Justin, Bilal Siddiqi, and Andrew Zeitlin, 

“The Rule of Law and the Rule of Men: ForumShopping in Liberia’s Dualistic Legal System” (presentation, Centre for the Study of African Economies Annual 

Conference on Economic Development in Africa, 

University of Oxford, March 2009).

2. According to Banks, under the Liberian Constitution, 

the town, clan, and paramount chiefs are locally elected 

but they are accountable to higher executive authority, 

including district commissioners, county superintendents, and the Ministry of Internal Affairs, all of whom 

are appointed by the president and serve at his pleasure. 

However, although elected by the local people, chiefs 

can be suspended by the superintendent or dismissed by 

the president. Banks, “Liberia,” 2006. 

3. In maintaining a narrow focus on the justice functions of 

customary authorities alone, this study does not pretend 

to provide a full analysis of the current state of customary 

authority as a whole nor of the basis and state of these 

institutions’ local legitimacy. Such a study is sorely lacking in Liberia and could vitally inform rule of law, as 

well as other important arenas of policymaking (most 

notably administrative decentralization), as similar studies have done in other post-conflict countries (such as 

Mozambique).

4. Banks notes that under the government-sanctioned system of customary justice, after appeal to the paramount 

chiefs, “a further appeal can be taken to the ‘administrative courts’. These are the courts of the district commissioners in each county and the county superintendents, 

to whom further appeals may be taken by dissatisfied 

parties. Appeals from these latter courts may be taken to 

the Minister in charge of local government, statutorily 

referred to as the Minister of Internal Affairs. . . . Under 

the foregoing procedure a further appeal may be taken to 

the President, at his discretion. . . . As early as 1907 the 

Supreme Court of Liberia held that administrative 

courts, of which the tribal courts manned by executive 

appointed or elected officials constituted a part, was 

‘unconstitutional’ and a violation of the doctrine of separation of powers. The 1847 Constitution clearly stipulated, and reiterated by the 1986 Constitution, that the 

‘Judicial Power’ created by the Constitution is the sole 

province of the judicial branch of government. The 

Executive Branch, of which the administrative courts 

are a subdivision, cannot therefore exercise judicial 

power. The Court repeated this position many times....

Later in an attempt to curb the powers of such administrative courts the drafters of the 1986 Constitution 

included in that organic instrument that the courts of 

the judicial branch of the government would have jurisdiction over matters of customary law. Despite that, the 

administrative courts continue to this day.” Banks, 

“Liberia,” 2006. 

5. Name of a type of witchcraft cult.

6. “Sassywood” is a form of trial by ordeal, which we discuss at length throughout this report.
 39

4

Our data contains a wealth of information on how people perceive the process and results in both the customary and formal 

justice systems. While much can be inferred from the experiences people recount in their attempts to resolve their disputes 

in the various forums, interviewees were also quite explicit in 

their critiques and praise of their justice options. These views 

and their consequences are most meaningful when seen in 

a comparative light—that is, comparing the way individuals 

experience and perceive each system. In fact, the picture that 

emerges from our research is one in which Liberians themselves assess the whole array of their “justice options” together 

in relation to one another when considering what course of action they can and should pursue. Indeed, our research reveals 

how cases often jump back and forth across these different 

types of institutions—sometimes throughout the course of a 

single case’s resolution—rather than always entering one of 

these institutional streams and simply staying put. 

A comparative analysis of Liberians’ perceptions and actual practice in both systems—formal and customary—is 

important from another perspective. Too often the typical 

way in which policy debates about the role of the customary 

systems tend to be framed—in Liberia and elsewhere—is to 

juxtapose a rather oversimplified (even caricatured) portrayal 

of customary systems against a picture of an idealized formal 

system. These idealized formal systems may represent what 

policymakers would like to happen, and even what they have 

planned on paper to happen. But the distance between what 

is imagined on the programmatic page and the experience of 

formal justice as actually practiced by officials and experienced 

by local populations is often cavernous. Meaningful and realistic assessments of policy options should instead proceed 

from an empirical analysis of both formal and customary institutions as they actually operate and as they are perceived by 

the population.

On the whole, as we demonstrate below, there is a strong 

demand throughout Liberia for institutions that can consistently and effectively provide local residents with justice in a 

timely fashion. However, our research also reveals that most 

Liberians feel that the formal justice system rarely delivers 

resolutions that meet popular expectations for justice, while 

the informal system is often hindered from doing so—and is 

not entirely up to all justice tasks either. 

It is vital to first ground any analysis of Liberian demands for—and frustrations with—the country’s current 

justice institutions in a careful, empirically grounded understanding of how most of this country’s population defines 

“justice” itself in the first place. Many of the concerns that 

we note as shaping local Liberian expectations about justice 

will readily resonate with policymakers and practitioners 

who work primarily with the common conceptual currency 

that shapes international rule of law discourse. However, 

our research also reveals that other widespread and deeply 

held Liberian beliefs about what “good justice” should involve tend to strike a balance between values, to emphasize 

priorities, and to highlight specific concrete concerns that 

differ in significant ways from those that implicitly inform 

the thinking of many policymakers. While both of these 

sets of concerns have significant implications that policymakers must consider, those in the second range are arguably far more profound and strategically consequential for 

the development of a rule of law strategy that is conducive 

to Liberia’s consolidation of peace and that cultivates popular perceptions of good governance and the legitimacy of 

state institutions.

First Range Concerns: Frustration with a

Lack of the Basics

Perhaps the clearest finding of our research is that Liberians 

are most deeply dissatisfied with the formal justice system. 

Over and over our respondents recounted dismal experiences 

with the formal courts and a near universal lack of trust of 

formal justice institutions.

Accessibility, timeliness, and affordability

Accessibility, timeliness, and affordability are three of the 

most consistent demands that Liberians have when it comes 

to the provision of justice. Our research reveals that the formal 

justice system is seen almost universally by Liberians as fallliberian perceptions of justice
40 Looking for Justice

ing abysmally short of their expectations in all three of these 

important service categories. 

Formal court proceedings are consistently reported as far 

more expensive than customary alternatives. The overwhelming majority of Liberians believe that the progress of a case 

in a formal court has virtually nothing to do with the substantive merits of the case. They believe that even the most 

meritorious, clear cut, or heinous cases will make absolutely 

no progress unless an often bewildering succession of “fees” 

and costs are continuously being paid. This menu varies considerably but will typically include “sponsorships” to pay for 

the police transportation costs and time to take someone into 

custody, or even investigate a case; a variety of ad-hoc “writ,” 

“filing,” “bond,” “referral,” and “case registration” fees (with police and courts alike); payment for the provision of food to the 

imprisoned accused (if the accuser/victim does not make such 

payments, the accused will be set free); and even money to pay 

for the paper on which depositions are taken (“stationery fee”). 

Time after time, our interviewees report that even the most 

egregious crimes (e.g., murder, violent rape resulting in death, 

violent stabbings) fall by the wayside within the state courts 

unless money for such “fees” keeps flowing. Rather typical expressions of frustration include:

I am the victim and you are asking money from 

me? Someone has done wrong to me and you are 

still demanding money from me? 

Female adult in Lofa 

If I decide to pursue the case through the police or 

court of law, I may end up spending more money 

than what he owes me. This making me to be the 

loser in the process. 

Male adult in Monrovia

[At the Temple of Justice] the people are just there 

for money. . . . Their major conscience is money. . 

. . Because when you go there nothing will happen. Until you will feel bad, they will just collect 

money from you, from office to office up to the 

top. Male chief in Monrovia 

The cost of hiring a lawyer is another financial obstacle 

faced by most Liberians. Many of our interviewees report 

abandoning plans to pursue cases in the formal justice system 

because of their inability to afford a lawyer. In fact, as one respondent indicated, far from being seen as agents of justice, 

Text box 5

Accessing formal institutions is hard

In the 176 villages surveyed by Oxford CSAE, magistrate courts and police stations were reported to be based almost 

exclusively in large urban or semiurban centers. The reported cost of transport to police stations and courts was 

approximately 150 Liberian dollars (LD) on average (costs were typically only reported when transport was available), 

but could go as high as 500–1000 LD. Average walking time to police stations and courts was 3.5 hours and up to 10–12 

hours in some instances. 

SOURCE: Based on preliminary data from an ongoing Oxford CSAE study called “Community-Based Justice and the Rule of Law in 

Liberia.” Details of the study are provided in the appendix.

Text box 6

Rape case of eighty-three-year-old woman, Lofa 

A man raped an eighty-three-year-old woman. The woman was taken to the hospital where the rape was confirmed, 

and the suspect was arrested and jailed. The victim’s daughter went to the magistrate court to pursue the case, but she 

was told that she had to pay five hundred Liberian dollars. After she did, she was told to get a second medical report. 

The case was then referred to the circuit court. After traveling a second time to the circuit court in Voinjama, they were 

told that it was the end of the term and they would need to come back the next term. The next term, there was no 

transportation available and it was the rainy season. The victim was put in a wheelbarrow for transport, but as her health 

was failing, her daughter decided to bring her mother home and to go to the court herself. Once there she was told 

that unless her mother was present the court would not hear the case. The next day she was told by the court that the 

suspect had broken out of jail. In the meantime, while she was at the court, her mother died. 
Part II: Research Findings 41

lawyers are most often seen as a means through which to gain 

unfair leverage over other parties in a case or dispute:

The other thing that leads to confusion is the 

court system. If something happens to you and 

you don’t have money your opponent who has 

money will hire lawyer to eventually win the case 

against you because the court will step on your 

case. Female elders in Lofa

In addition to the direct professional fees, additional money must usually be spent to find a lawyer, often requiring a 

trip to Monrovia, given the stark absence of legal professionals 

outside of the capital. Liberians generally complain about the 

significant indirect costs associated with the lack of proximity 

of formal courts and the amount of time formal proceedings 

take. For example, the distance that must be traveled to reach 

a justice venue, the number of times such trips must be made, 

and the duration of these trips can all significantly affect the 

cost of pursuing justice. When asked to calculate the amount 

spent on resolving a dispute, Liberians rarely distinguish between the direct and indirect costs. For many, time spent away 

from their livelihoods and, in particular, farming is as costly 

as money itself. 

A final cost that must be taken into account is that of corruption. Outright bribery is assumed by virtually all Liberians 

to play a determining role in most formal court outcomes and 

believed to be indispensable if you want to win a case. As one 

male respondent in a labor dispute reported:

Actually, I am not getting transparent justice in 

my matter because I don’t have money. If I had 

money to hire more lawyers and be able to bribe 

the judges then by this time all is over in my 

favor. Male adult in Nimba 

The expectation that officials in the formal court system 

will find some way to illegitimately extort money is sometimes so strong that it affects the willingness of litigants to 

reveal exactly what wrong they have suffered because they fear 

it may be further compounded. As one male respondent who 

had been beaten and robbed by his nephews noted:

One funny thing that I thought of about the court 

was, when I carried the complaint, I did not mention about the planks. I only told the judge that 

“E” and his brothers beat me on my land because 

if I have mentioned about the planks, the court 

could have definitely demanded to have a share in 

it. And so I felt for my nephew and never exposed 

it out. Male adult in Nimba

One woman’s reflections on the relationship between 

money and justice in the formal system fairly accurately sums 

up the sentiments of many, if not indeed most, Liberians: 

All of the courts in Liberia require money. If you 

have no money, no justice for you. All paths 

Text box 7

Theft case, Grand Gedeh

A male adult in Grand Gedeh, A, let B borrow his cell phone, but B gave it to C who sold it to D. A went to the police 

and paid a fee to make a statement. A then brought B to the police, and when they found the SIM card in his pocket 

they put him in jail. A then brought the police on his own motorbike (and paid for the gas) to find C. The phone was 

retrieved and the police told A that they would keep the phone until A took B to court. A did not want to go to court 

because B already admitted his fault and the police had the phone. “They took B back into the cell and then the CID 

[Criminal Investigation Division] man told me to ‘do something’ before I could get the phone. So I asked him what 

something and he told me to ‘clear his desk.’. . . He told me to find him ‘cold water.’. . . I had to spend two hundred 

Liberian dollars for us not to go to court, that was how the CID man gave me my phone.” B remained in jail. “The case 

is actually about the police or the CID officers as to what they do when they are to judge a case; even if that fellow was 

to say that I didn’t give him a phone and he had money to bribe them, what I believe is that they were going to take 

the case somehow that I wasn’t going to get the phone back. That is the lesson I learn.” “The reason why I didn’t want 

to go to the court is that whether I was right or not, I was going to spend some money there. If you went there the first 

thing they will tell you is to register your case, which involves money. Court matter is not a short procedure; it takes a 

lot of time, the go and come, go and come the next day. It takes lot of transportations and my phone was going to be 

in their possession.” 
42 Looking for Justice

require some backing—money or influential person to plead for you. No justice for the poor. 

Female adult in Nimba 

By way of comparison, our evidence strongly suggests that 

most rural Liberians have ready access to customary justice 

institutions, are far more satisfied with what they identify as 

a much faster pace with which these institutions reach resolutions, and find the costs involved in the customary system 

to be not only far more affordable, but also more consistent 

and predictable, and ultimately far more likely to be fair. The 

comparisons drawn by our interviewees generally echoed sentiments such as the following:

We have the traditional way we judge our own 

cases. It is like each wrong committed against 

another the penalties are spelt out and known 

amongst us. . . .You will notice that the one who 

practice these things [carrying false rumors that 

lead to confusion between two families] becomes 

tie-tongue when the two families or persons 

wronged are present. That is the way we judge our 

cases. . . . We don’t ask for money rather the cases 

are judged based on their true nature. The one 

found guilty is emphatically told while the innocent go free. But when you go to the other side that 

is the government way, you will feel discourage 

about yourself because you don’t have money. . . . 

The magistrate and circuit court are good but some 

matters don’t need their attention. In the case 

where the complainer knows someone there he or 

she prefers to go there for favors. Had similar case 

that was judged on the government side be judged 

on the country side the actual truth would be 

revealed and the guilty person would be seriously 

warned not to do the same. But if the government 

does not give us the power, the one between the 

two who knows that he has contact by money will 

forward his case to the circuit court.

Female elders in Lofa

I prefer taking matters to the traditional people 

then the court because the traditional people do 

not focus mainly on money, but peace and harmony. Although there are little charges that are 

levied, but these charges are not as costly as the 

Text box 8

Unresolved ritual murder case, Nimba 

The son of A, an adult female in Nimba, was killed, 

ostensibly for the purpose of taking his body parts. 

The perpetrators were taken to jail at South Beach. The 

county attorney refused to take the case as A could not 

produce the clothes her son wore when he was killed. 

A sought legal representation from several lawyers, 

but she could not pay the fees. As far as she knows, 

nothing happened in the case. She has heard that the 

perpetrators have been released.

Figure 1: Perceived Cost of Justice Forums

NOTE: The Oxford CSAE survey asked respondents to give their 

subjective evaluation of four sets of justice forums: (1) the chiefs, 

(2) elders, religious, and secret society leaders, (3) magistrates, 

JPs, and courts, and (4) NGOs. For each of these institutions, 

respondents were asked about four dimensions: comprehensibility, 

cost, fairness, and respect for local norms. This figure summarizes 

average responses to the question about cost. Higher scores imply 

that the forum in question is more costly.

Respondents identified courts as the most expensive option and 

affordable by only a minority. Chiefs and elders were affordable by 

most people, although not by all. NGOs, which typically provide 

free services, were seen as the most affordable option; however, 

NGOs appear not to be typically used as forums for dispute 

resolution. The question and ranking system were as follows:

COST: “How expensive are the total costs involved in having a 

case decided by [FORUM]?” Responses were marked on a fivepoint scale:

0 = Free. Everyone can afford it; 

1 = Inexpensive. Almost everyone can afford it; 

2 = Not too expensive. Most people can afford it; 

3 = Expensive. A minority of people can afford it; 

4 = Very expensive. Only the richest people can afford it.

SOURCE: Based on preliminary data from an ongoing Oxford 

CSAE study, “Community-Based Justice and the Rule of Law in 

Liberia.” Details of the study are provided in the appendix.
Part II: Research Findings 43

court’s. Nextly the traditional people do not 

waste time as the way the court does. Lastly, 

when the traditional people settle many matter, 

the both parties usually leave with smile in their 

faces. Adult female in Nimba

Our findings in this respect are strongly corroborated and 

bolstered by the independent data produced by the Oxford 

CSAE survey, some of whose preliminary and provisional 

findings are reported in figure 1.

Transparency and impartiality

Our research also indicates that most Liberians are highly 

concerned that justice be a process that is transparent and 

impartial (see figure 2). Concerns with transparency—in the 

sense of being able to identify and understand all aspects and 

contributing factors that produce a resolution—underwrite 

particularly severe local critiques of formal court proceedings that to most local Liberians seem opaque and virtually 

incomprehensible. 

Liberians’ descriptions of their experience in the formal 

court system are invariably characterized by confusion and a 

deep sense of disempowerment. Victims/plaintiffs and perpetrators/defendants express frustration in being bounced 

around from official to official, court date to court date, detention cell to detention cell without understanding why. Victims 

in particular are confounded by decisions rendered without 

their having had an opportunity to voice their views. Stated 

one female victim of assault:

When I tried to talk, the judge said, “We are not 

stupid. We know what we are doing.” So we didn’t 

talk a thing. It was only today that I think I did 

some talking. Basically, what I said was, “Sir, we 

are here. Will the case be possible today?” 

Female adult in Lofa

This lack of transparency in turn underwrites a suspicion 

that formal court proceedings are by default subject to being 

influenced in ways that inherently ensure partiality and bias 

in their rulings. This is further reinforced by the deep sense 

of imbalance of power felt by most Liberians against statebacked authorities. Most Liberians believe that the exertion 

of naked power in the pursuit of self-interest seems to be 

one of the most prevalent and predictable principles governing the process of case resolution by officials in formal justice 

institutions. 

We collected evidence that on occasion the “laws” that 

are invoked by the officials in the formal justice system seem 

to be invented outright—often in order to further their selfinterest. These can include questionable invocations of impunity (“A state official cannot be charged or imprisoned if 

Text box 9

“The elephant magistrate”

A young woman in Lofa, A, was accused by a neighbor of stealing her cell phone. The police took A into custody where 

she spent the night and was brought to the magistrate the next day. “At the court, the magistrate only listen to the girl’s 

explanation and finally said that the allegation against me was true. He said according to Liberian law if you went to 

someone’s place and anything got missing you are held responsible. I said to him that was not the case because I did 

not enter the girl’s room. He the magistrate should have allowed me to explain my side of the case but he did not. He 

did not ask me but render the decision for me to be detain in jail. . . . I spent a month in jail eating nothing. . . . On a 

particular day [the magistrate] came on a motorbike and said to me, ‘[A], I know that you are not the one who took the 

cell phone, but Liberia law says since you were present and it got missing it means you are the one that took it.’ I said 

‘is that the way you are talking?’ He said, ‘Yes, I am the elephant magistrate here. Anything I say is final.’. . . Later the 

magistrate came and said, ‘As you look so, you and my daughters are equal. So I want to take you to my house in order 

for you be washing my clothes.’. . . There I was washing his clothes and doing everything like that of a wife.” 

A eventually managed to escape and appealed to United Nations Mission in Liberia (UNMIL) police, who went to arrest 

the magistrate. The magistrate admitted the allegations but then ran to the court and stood beneath the Liberian flag 

and claimed that he could not be arrested there. He then took a motorbike to Monrovia and “in spite of all efforts made 

by the police on motorbike to apprehend him failed when their gas finished at Fissibu Highway.” 

The case was registered in the circuit court, but the magistrate is free. A waited for her lawyer, who has all the documents, 

but he did not show up.
44 Looking for Justice

Figure 2: Perceptions of Justice Forums

NOTE: The Oxford CSAE survey asked respondents to give 

their subjective evaluation of four sets of justice forums: (1) 

the chiefs, (2) elders, religious, and secret society leaders, (3) 

magistrates, JPs, and courts, and (4) NGOs. For each of these 

institutions, respondents were asked about four dimensions: 

comprehensibility, cost, fairness, and respect for local norms. 

This figure summarizes average responses to the questions 

about comprehensibility, fairness, and respect for local 

norms. Higher scores imply that the forum in question (a) uses 

words and procedures that the respondent can understand, 

(b) more frequently gives fair rulings, and (c) issues decisions 

that respect the norms and beliefs of the respondent’s 

community. 

Respondents ranked chiefs and elders as easiest to understand, 

fairest, and most likely to respect the norms and practices of 

the community. Courts were consistently ranked lowest on all 

three dimensions. NGOs were given an intermediate ranking. 

The questions and ranking system were as follows:

■ COMPREHENSIBILITY: “To what extent do you feel you 

can understand the words and procedures used by 

[FORUM] to decide a case?” Responses are marked on a 

three-point scale, from 1 = “I cannot understand very 

much” to 3 = “I can understand almost everything.”

■ FAIRNESS: “Are the rulings/decisions made by [FORUM] 

usually fair to all the parties involved (both the accuser 

and the accused)?” Responses are marked on a four-point 

scale, from 1= “No, never fair to either party” to 4 = “Yes, 

almost always.” 

■ RESPECT FOR NORMS: “Do the rulings/decisions that are 

made by the [FORUM] usually respect the norms and 

beliefs of the people who live in your community?” 

Responses are marked on a four-point scale, from 1 = 

“No, almost never” to 4 = “Yes, almost always.” 

SOURCE: Based on preliminary data from an ongoing Oxford 

CSAE study, “Community-Based Justice and the Rule of Law in 

Liberia.” Details of the study are provided in the appendix.

he is standing/working under the flag of the nation,” stated a 

magistrate), or invented descriptions of so-called laws (“If you 

go to someone’s house and afterwards something is found missing, you are responsible according to Liberian civil law,” stated 

a judge). 

Taken together with the prohibitive costs associated with 

formal courts described earlier, the lack of transparency, and the 

imbalance of power, the two overwhelming factors that govern 

the course of state-backed justice, according to most interviewees, are the personal power/interests of the state’s agents and 

money.

By way of contrast, the procedures involved in customary 

justice proceedings are generally described by Liberians as at 

least understandable. This bears in important ways on how the 

customary system as a whole is viewed as far less partial than the 

formal system, and it affects how Liberians interact with both 

systems when they confront perceived partiality in a justice proceeding. Most particularly, Liberians feel that because they can 

understand customary proceedings they are more readily able 

to identify situations of partiality when these do occur. As suggested in the following exchange between an interviewer and a 

brother of a murder victim, this transparency at least allows them 

to take measures that seek to counterbalance that bias: 

Interviewer: When it comes to infringing on your 

right like to say, “murder,” if the perpetrator was even 

seen, which one of the system was going to give you 

transparent treatment in the whole matter?

Respondent: The traditional method because even 

when you are hurt they have the traditional leader 

that will talk with you, invite you. In fact, you then 

come to your senses, even they will send people to 

counsel you instead of the system the white people 

has brought. Because, we should not forgo our culture because we are Africa. 

Male adult in Nimba

Sometimes those measures involve appeal within the customary system itself—and it is arguably the particular way in which 

Liberian customary systems allow for an extensive appeal process that absolves that system of the same overall accusations of 

generalized and inherent partiality that Liberians associate with 

the formal system. 

However, there are also certain forms of partiality that are 

inherent in customary rulings and that motivate select minority 

groups in particular to seek redress from noncustomary institu-
Part II: Research Findings 45

tions (sometimes the formal court system, but not always so) 

in order to deal with certain types and calibers of cases. This 

is particularly likely to occur when a case implicates communities, or community members, who differ in their customs, 

especially when the issue traces back to those very differences. In such cases, if the customary institution itself more 

closely reflects the social (often ethnic or religious) identity 

or safeguards the customary practices of one party, the other 

party suspects that the application of (an alien) custom will 

be inherently biased against them. That party thus seeks additional review and recourse from a more neutral, and usually 

higher, authority. Important examples that emerged from our 

research include conflicts over land between groups with different ethnic and religious affiliations (such as between the 

Mano and Mandingo in Nimba), and between Poro society 

members and others in the same community who were not 

part of the Poro (often for religious reasons—Muslims or 

Pentecostals for example). In short, the proceedings of societies such as the Poro are neither seen as “transparent” nor as fair 

and impartial by those who are not members and whose own 

beliefs bring them into conflict with the demands that such 

institutions make and the behaviors they try to impose.

Interestingly, Liberian concerns that justice be transparent and impartial underwrite the widespread local demand 

that our research found for the reallowance of TBO practices. Through statements such as “a tree [i.e., sassywood] 

cannot lie,” Liberians simultaneously express their desire 

for impartial judgments that cannot be corrupted through 

unfair influence and their assessment that the social institutions that currently make such judgments are unduly subject to precisely such influences. At the same time, these 

same concerns with transparency and impartiality in justice 

also inform an ongoing argument within Liberian society 

at the local level about exactly what forms of TBO should 

be allowed and who and under what circumstances should 

be subjected to TBO. They also inform emerging critiques 

about the very fairness of such methods for determining 

guilt in the first place. These issues will be discussed at 

greater length later in this report. 

Effectiveness and enforceability

Finally, Liberians express a deep desire that justice be enforced. One of the most consistent complaints and frustrations that Liberians articulate is that both those apprehended 

because they have been accused of a crime and those actually 

convicted of crimes in the formal system are often released. 

Among the most frustration-inducing and frequently reported reasons for these releases are (1) either suspected or observed outright corruption by the police or other officials and 

(2) the unwillingness or inability of victims/accusers to pay 

the food costs of detainees (who are then reported as almost 

invariably released by the police) or other mounting fees. As 

one respondent reported,

When someone steals from you and you carry him 

to the police station they will say bring the money 

so that we will send your court. After that they 

will fix the paper and send your court you have to 

pay money to the police station. [Then] at the 

court you are demanded to pay messenger fee so 

that the one who is guilty against you will be put 

to jail. . . . When your paper is fixed, you will be 

sent to the court then you will be sent for a fee to 

bring. Meanwhile the guilty will be in jail. All 

what you are going through cost money, even 

though your money has been stolen. After spending all that it cost you to go through this process 

within the course of one or two days you will 

notice the same person put in jail, now moving 

freely, passing you. When you try to complain to 

authority, you will be told that the case is with the 

government. Some people say if you put somebody 

in jail, it means that you are responsible to feed 

that person. You will be told to feed that person 

otherwise the person will be freed. 

Female elders in Lofa

Text box 10

Religious dispute, Lofa

The Poro society is viewed as the host of all other groups 

who live in the community. As such, they feel aggrieved 

when their traditions are challenged by “outsiders.” 

Most often these challenges manifest themselves 

when members of the Pentecostal community refuse 

to abide by local traditions and mandate that all nonPoro people go indoors whenever the Poro “devil” 

enters the town. The superintendent had to intervene 

to settle the dispute because the Pentecostal members 

refused to have a traditional forum settle any disputes 

in which their members were involved.
46 Looking for Justice

The lack of the formal court system’s capacity to enforce its 

rulings was repeatedly highlighted by respondents involved in 

a wide variety of cases. We even collected information about 

two cases in which rulings by the Supreme Court of Liberia 

continued to be blatantly ignored by powerful individuals or 

organizations. The fact that even Supreme Court decisions 

may be openly flaunted speaks to the formal system’s broader 

lack of local credibility in the areas of enforcement and effective resolution. 

By contrast, Liberians for the most part report that resolutions reached through customary processes are final and carried out. As described earlier in this report, in the absence of 

official enforcement mechanisms, the principle of voluntariness, together with a range of social pressures and a strong desire for reconciliation, serve to enforce customary resolutions. 

However, Liberians also note problems with the effectiveness and enforceability of customary institutions, mostly 

in areas where such institutions were either never meant to 

go, or where they have more recently been prohibited from 

going. Thus, as noted, customary mechanisms are generally ineffective in disputes that involve parties who are not 

members of the community, or that pit minority members 

of a community against a majority, such as Muslims in a 

predominantly non-Muslim community, or Christians in a 

community dominated by the Poro or other secret societies. 

A number of our cases involve Liberians frustrated at the 

lack of options available to them in pursuing disputes against 

strangers and prominent Liberians, because the formal system is generally ineffective, and because the elders or chiefs 

have no authority over the opponent. In addition, customary 

mechanisms are generally considered insufficient to deal with 

certain egregious crimes, such as brutal murder and child 

rape, which most Liberians believe require the more severe 

sanctions of the formal system—despite the fact that they 

remain deeply skeptical of the effective sanctioning power of 

state institutions.

On the flip side, Liberians also complain about the inability to achieve a resolution in matters that could—and, in their 

view, should—be handled by customary mechanisms, but that 

have been taken out of their purview. In particular, the blanket 

government prohibition against all forms of TBO is widely 

felt to hobble customary authorities in both their efforts to ascertain the truth in some cases, and more importantly to deal 

with forms of “crime” that are of particularly grave concern to 

most Liberians, such as witchcraft. More broadly, government 

directives that reserve certain crimes for the formal courts 

(such as crimes in which blood is shed; rape, including statutory rape; all forms of murder, including manslaughter) are 

felt by most Liberians to inhibit customary institutions from 

intervening in situations in which they are believed to generally be better equipped to resolve or enforce. This is discussed 

in more detail later in this report.

Second Order Concerns: Fundamentally

Liberian Justice

One of the most striking findings of our research is that most 

Liberians would still be unsatisfied with the justice meted out 

by the formal system, even if it were able to deliver on the 

Text box 11

Ritualistic murder, Nimba

When A’s sister went missing, he went to the police, but they refused to do anything as there was no proof. Later A’s 

sister’s body was found in a well, with indications that she was murdered for ritual purposes. The police demanded 

1,500 Liberian dollars from A for gas money to arrest the perpetrator. According to A, an adult male in Nimba, “When 

we went to Sanniqueliie pursuing the case, the police in Sanniquellie did not tell us anything good. They never allow us 

to see the perpetrator. When that happened and from that time they have just been delaying, causing me to make an 

SOS call on the human rights group in Monrovia. When I talk to one of the supervisors, he advised that I should hold 

my peace and that matter was concerning human life and no matter how long it last, it will be unearth one day. But 

when the police asked the perpetrator during their interrogation that, what enthused him to have killed the girl, the 

perpetrator answered by saying that the girl committed suicide by taking caustic soda, which is not true. And since then 

the people had not seek our interest.” A does not believe any prosecution has gone forward. He also believes that the 

defense attorney and police were bribed. “But we have decided to take another measure since government has failed 

to address our case. . . . Yes, the only system I can try now to work is violence to carry on hostility, organize my brothers 

because we are hurt and the government is not sensitive to our feeling. We will go and jump on the perpetrator and 

kills him the same way.”
Part II: Research Findings 47

basics discussed earlier. This is because the core principles of 

justice that underlie Liberia’s formal system, which is based 

on the American legal system, differ considerably from those 

valued by most Liberians. Certainly a key element of justice to 

all Liberians is the requirement of determining who is at fault 

and who is innocent. However, to the overwhelming majority 

of those we interviewed, the appropriate scope, objectives, priorities, and means of redress that make for satisfactory justice 

differ significantly from those that prevail in the formal legal 

system.

One of the consistent complaints levied by Liberians 

against the formal court system is that it is overly narrow in 

how it defines the problems it resolves and thus fails to get at 

the root issues that underlie the dispute. In contrast, Liberians greatly appreciate and value the way in which customary 

mechanisms focus on resolving precisely these root issues. As 

explained by one interviewee who had experienced both the 

formal court and customary resolution: 

So actually looking at the court, they only focus on 

the nature of your complaint and care less to know 

what transpired in the past. So in short, the court 

does not satisfy the both parties when cases are 

resolved by them. But for our traditional people 

they look at the nature of the case and also dig out 

the past to know what happened, and based upon 

that they peacefully resolved the matter. And at 

the climax the both parties leave with smile. And 

so to conclude, I prefer the customary system.

Male adult in Nimba

On one hand Liberian insistence that satisfactory justice 

requires that root issues be considered reflects a strong interest 

in not only addressing past behavior but in trying to ensure 

that this behavior does not repeat itself again. 

On the other hand this insistence also rests on a culturally 

grounded and deeply held assumption that incorrect or injurious behavior is usually rooted in damaged and acrimonious 

social relations. In order to be seen as adequate, justice must 

thus work to repair those relations, which are the ultimate and 

more fundamental causal determinant, rather than merely 

treat the behavioral expressions that are viewed as its symptoms.1 Redressive action is thus considered deficient if it does 

not also produce reconciliation among the parties.

Liberian insistence that justice must address root causes 

and that it focus on achieving reconciliation reflects expectations that stand in stark contrast—and even clash in vital 

ways—with deeply held assumptions that define the principles and objectives of the formal legal system. 

Specifically, whereas Liberians expect contention and 

adversarial relations themselves to be a primary, and often even the overriding, concern in the justice process, a 

Western-based formal justice system takes adversarialism 

as a given point of departure for the justice process. Thus, 

in the Western model legal proceedings determine winners 

and losers among adversaries but have no business addressing adversarialism per se. In fact, a court that attempted to 

address such issues would arguably be viewed as infringing 

on individual rights. In the formal system, the resolution 

of a case that clearly determines guilt and innocence (and 

that punishes the offender) is considered to have fully satisfied the requirements of “justice,” even if the resolution 

also happened to increase adversarialism and social friction 

among the contending parties. Such a view is diametrically 

opposed to prevalent Liberian understandings of what “justice” requires, as evidenced in the following rather typical 

statements by interviewees:

If it were traditional people, they were going to 

handle this case the best way. For transparency 

and satisfaction, they were going to give us the 

opportunity and privilege to express our misfeelings to be handled by them. Above all, they were 

going to resolve the matter and called us indoor 

and give us advices. Unlike that, the court only 

give the ruling and focus on how to get their fees. 

Adult female Nimba 

What I like about the customary system is, it is not 

expensive and our elders and chief focus on how to 

reunite the disputing parties. Above all, they gave 

the both parties the opportunity to explain the 

underlying cause that resulted in the current dispute. Unlike the customary system, the court system is very expensive. Their fees are not affordable 

by our people. In court the judge only focus on the 

existing current matter at hand, leaving the underlying causes. So I solely prefer our traditional 

people to handle our matters.

Adult male in Nimba

For most Liberians, punishment is important to the 
48 Looking for Justice

process of redressing injustice, but it is to be subsumed under 

other priorities that are viewed as generally more important. 

Arguably the most important priority is that of ensuring the 

problem is definitively resolved—this is all the more a priority 

if the problem is particularly threatening and socially egregious. Our research indicates that there are cases in which behavior is judged to be so horrific that perpetrators are viewed 

as entirely beyond social repair, and in which Liberians often 

demand extreme forms of justice such as the death sentence. 

However, in the vast majority of situations, including many 

cases of murder and rape, social reconciliation is viewed as a 

more important objective than punishment per se. In fact, the 

infliction of some form of pain or loss (social, physical, economic) upon a perpetrator in a manner that does not directly 

contribute to reconciliation is seen as augmenting adversarialism in undesirable ways that impede, rather than contribute 

to, true justice. As one town chief stated: 

Actually, the customary law is the one that I prefer 

and protect in administering justice to our people. 

Our traditional laws help us to handle our dispute 

very easily and after the settlement of these disputes, the disputants go with smiles on their faces. 

. . . In fact, the statutory law brings separation 

among our people. After the court ruling we 

observe that the guilty one is either put in prison 

or heavily charged to pay cost of court, bond fee, 

etc. So I prefer the customary system. 

Town chief in Nimba

In order to achieve reconciliation and allow everyone to 

“leave with smiles on their faces” (an oft-repeated phrase in 

our interviews), redressive action should usually involve a 

public admission of guilt by the perpetrator accompanied by 

an acknowledgement of forgiveness by the wronged party. 

Where appropriate, compensation that attempts to restore 

the condition of a victim is also required; as is some attention to broader social factors and concerns prior to a specific 

dispute event that may have motivated the perpetrator to act 

as he or she did in the first place (for example, a longer history 

of contention between the families of a perpetrator and his or 

her victim). “Punishment” was viewed as most “fair” when it 

involved perpetrators taking ritual or other action viewed as 

indicative that they would not continue to engage in similar 

behavior, and when it involved their providing some form of 

compensation to the party that had been wronged. Although 

compensation to victims is viewed as very important for justice 

and in achieving reconciliation as part of it, there were a fair 

number of cases in which victims chose, or were convinced to 

forgo compensation, in order to serve the more valued interest 

Text box 12

Traditional resolution of land dispute, Nimba 

A male elder in Nimba, A, caught B, his nephew, cutting and hauling wood on A’s land without his consent. When A 

told B to stop, B refused and beat A, during which time A’s cutlass, watch, and US$150 went missing. A sued B in the 

Magistrate Court, but the town elders persuaded A to withdraw the case and resolve it traditionally. The chief elder 

presided over the case and urged A to forgive B and allow him to take the wood. A explained, “They told me to put 

hand over my nephew’s and let bygone be bygone as an uncle to them. . . . The elders appealed to me to waive all 

claim because B and his brothers were unable to pay my money. And actually, looking at their status where they are not 

even squatting on their own land or quarter in the town because they were very small when they came in our quarter to 

squat. So because of their condition, I accepted the traditional people appeal to waive the money and other personal 

effects that got missing from me during the fight.” 

A further explained why he was satisfied with this outcome: “Actually when that incident occurred between B and I, I 

was not really feeling pleased when I sued them in the court. So I started regretting for what I did. I think I was to first 

inform my elders in the town. Even when the police came for them, I felt very bad because of how they were going 

to be treated in court. . . . I was actually regretting because when you take the case to the court, the judge will give 

the ruling and after that the both parties remain enemies forever. There will be no satisfaction between the disputing 

parties. And in the court the judge mainly focus on his fees or cost of court. Even to withdraw the case from the court, 

I paid some money to the judge. When I first went to court to sued before the magistrate, I was asked to pay 1,500 LD 

for the writ and 500 LD for the officer allowance. And to withdraw the case, I also paid additional 1,500 LD bringing a 

total of 3,500 LD spent from my pocket. All these expenses was paid on my nephew behalf. So I prefer taking matters to 

the traditional people for settlement than going to court. Actually it is not good to take your neighbor to court because 

it creates animosity.”
Part II: Research Findings 49

of reconciliation. In a handful of cases reconciliation was even 

considered worth incurring additional costs altogether. 

Redress is viewed by most Liberians as most deficient 

when guilt is determined but absolutely no remedial measures 

are taken whatsoever—no punishment, no compensation, no 

reconciliation, no addressing of root social causes. However, 

the provision of punishment that merely inflicts some form 

of pain or loss on a guilty party without attending to reconciliation or compensating victims ranks a very a close second 

in terms of unsatisfying justice solutions. The most consistent 

complaints that Liberians have about the formal justice system are that it rarely is capable of enforcing any redressive 

measures at all and that what recourse it does provide is almost always limited to punishment without providing compensation to the victim or social reconciliation among the 

parties. In fact, more often than not, when the formal system 

does provide redress (in a form of punishment), it is regarded 

as a source of added forms of victimization even of those it 

determines to be in the right and innocent (through the battery of fees that are imposed in the process), and as the source 

of accentuated conflict that is ultimately detrimental to all—

victims, perpetrators, and the community at large. 

In summary, appropriate “punishment” in the Liberian social context is not primarily about inflicting pain on a guilty 

party, whether through removing social freedom or causing 

physical or economic harm. Rather, to most Liberians “punishment/redress” is viewed as most sensible when it is primarily a matter of providing compensation to victims, restoring 

social relations between parties, and providing public signs of 

atonement that signal a perpetrator’s renewed commitment to 

the social mores of the community. 

Finally, our research clearly reveals that Liberians want a 

justice system that is locally “relevant” (see figure 3). First, this 

means that it is a system that does not seek to supplant or 

colonize their social institutions and mores. As we will discuss 

at greater length in our review of how Liberians view new 

“human rights” laws and initiatives, there is a great deal of local sensitivity and reaction against perceived assaults on local 

social institutions and practices that most local actors believe 

are serving vital local functions. As one respondent stated: 

I don’t think we will sit down as traditional chief to 

see the Sande society being dissolved by some individuals. In fact, if this is done something will be 

done about the Poro in time to come. . . . In our 

traditional setting, the Sande society helps us to 

train our girls’ children, especially the hardheaded 

ones to be intelligent. So eliminating the Sande will 

give rise to many problem. Even in the USA, there 

are societies like the Bible society and many others, 

so if the white man wants to dissolve the Sande 

then let all the societies in the world including the 

Bible society to be dissolved. Most of our ministers, 

representatives, and other authorities passed there 

and they got useful and helpful training from there. 

So if the government action is taken concerning the 

Sande, our children will be loose and we won’t have 

anybody to discipline them. 

Male zoe in Nimba

Second, a concern with “relevance” means that Liberians 

want their justice institutions to address the full range of offenses, problems, and crimes that they believe they confront 

and to address those problems rather than simply deny they 

Text box 13

Nimba county inspector

Interviewer: Why you think that the statutory system will not enhance the reconciliation process?

Respondent: Because it’s all about knocking gavel in court. That Mr. X, you are wrong, so go to jail. And Mr. Y, you 

are right so you can go home. As the result people go with misfeelings, and sometimes they will feel that because 

of their status in the society, they were not given justice fairly. More besides, the level of our people as I continue to 

emphasize, we are not capacitated to hire lawyer. Defense lawyers are not performing, and besides performing, lawyers 

are not encouraged to come in the interior to take up cases for the less fortunate who cannot afford to retain a legal 

counsel. . . .So since there is gap, the statutory system will not perform to the expectation of the population. So what 

can the customary do? What we can do since we want reconciliation is to approach the customary way, where people, 

perpetrators, and victims will share food. Because once you and myself share food, glass, and break kola nut and as 

well as eat and hug together, that is the beginning of genuine reconciliation. And that problem somebody must be 

willing to give for other people to take. The statutory system is not the best for a country coming out war that is yelling 

for reconciliation. 
50 Looking for Justice

are important or even real. Some of the issues that Liberians 

want to see addressed as justice include forms of behavior such 

as public insults that might be considered offensive but not 

worthy of treatment in a formal justice system. Other issues 

that Liberians are overwhelmingly preoccupied with, such as 

the perception that some individuals are using supernatural 

means to hurt (or even kill) others in order to augment their 

own power, are usually viewed as incompatible with modern 

formal justice systems. We will discuss the issue of witchcraft 

and TBO extensively later in this report. 

Third, “relevance” means that cases be resolved in accordance with the criteria that we have outlined in our discussion of “fundamentally Liberian justice” above. Ironically, our 

research finds that it is when formal system actors violate the 

system’s own precepts by deferring to these principles that locals most commend their actions! Indeed, we found extensive 

evidence of “informalization” of the formal justice institutions 

and procedures at the local level—in the sense that in practice 

Figure 3: Level of Agreement With Statement That Customary Law Trumps Formal Law

NOTE: The Oxford CSAE survey asked respondents to describe the extent to which they agree or disagree with the statement: “The 

decisions of chiefs and traditional leaders should be obeyed even if they are different from what the formal law says.” Respondents 

could choose from five responses:“strongly disagree,” “disagree,” “neutral,” “agree,” and “strongly agree.” These responses were 

converted to numerical scores after the fact, with 2 as the highest level of agreement and - 2 the lowest. The responses were broken 

down into four subgroups:

■ “Household member is a local influential?” The population of households is split into those that reported a member of the 

household to be a local influential or person in position of authority, and those that did not.

■ “Household member injured in war?” The population of households is split into those that reported a member being injured 

during the war and those that did not.

■ “Sex of the household head.” Self-explanatory.

■ “Age of household head.” The population of households is separated into those with heads that were thirty years old or less, 

and those with heads that were over thirty. 

The striking finding is the overall level of agreement with the statement. Female respondents were slightly less likely to agree than 

men, as were households that self-reported war victimization.
Part II: Research Findings 51

formal procedures often deferred to and operated according 

to—principles that govern customary mechanisms rather than 

abide strictly by formal legal precepts. For example, several interviewees describe attempts by the police to try to resolve 

cases by mediating between the parties in question without 

referring the case to court, inclusive of cases as varied as public 

insulting, physical assault, theft, rape, and even manslaughter. Other cases note referrals by officials in the state-backed 

system to zoes or chiefs because their ritual position or social 

knowledge was believed to better equip them to fully handle 

the issue at hand. When state-backed institutions pursue such 

courses of action they are clearly not implementing the principles of statutory law but rather are lending the added power 

of the state to the implementation of key principles that most 

people recognize as governing the informal system. 

In concluding this discussion of Liberian perceptions and 

conceptions of justice it is important to note that our case interviews provide plenty of evidence that Liberians use justice 

institutions and devise strategies that aim to achieve objectives that directly contradict those we have presented here as 

the core tenets of a Liberian sense of justice. Paradoxically, 

however, these cases tend to reinforce our interpretation of 

what Liberians feel justice should be all about, as these interviewees tend to describe such actions and choices (even when 

they are their own!) as examples of efforts to reduce fairness 

in self-serving ways, rather than as measures taken to achieve 

fairer outcomes. There is thus no small degree of irony to be 

found in the situations in which individuals report that they 

are willing to take a matter to a formal court or an agent of the 

justice system (most often the police) precisely because in doing so they can capitalize on some form of bias in their favor. 

As one respondent reported:

I was sitting here when this young man came, the 

husband of the lady, he said, “We have done you 

wrong.” He said his wife got angry and beat my 

daughter on the farm. So, I asked, “Your wife beat 

my daughter on the farm?”. . . My sister sent for 

the lady and asked her what had happened. When 

she was called, the lady came and begged for 

mercy. I was not there. It was after all this that the 

husband came to me. When he came, he told me 

that the woman would be brought to the town to 

beg us. To this I agreed. But, when they went for 

her, she refused to come. So, the next day, I personally went over to see her and asked her to come 

to town and apologize. Surprisingly, she refused 

and was very defiant. She said that hair should 

grow in her palm if she were to make any apology. 

She boasted that [Judge X’s] court was her court 

and that nothing would come out of the case 

against her in that court. 

Female adult in Lofa

Indeed, as we will discuss in greater detail later in the report, it is not an exaggeration to state that for most Liberians 

the formal justice system is seen as being incapable of providing satisfactory justice. It is not simply that it is viewed as 

merely an inadvertant source of injustice. Rather, the formal 

justice system is viewed by most Liberians as one of the most 

effective mechanisms through which powerful and wealthy 

social actors are able to perpetrate injustice in service to their 

own interests.

Notes

1. Without delving too far into a sociocultural analysis, 

there are at least two aspects of the social context in 

Liberia that are important to highlight in order to 

understand the rationale behind local demands for justice that involve a broader scope than might be required 

(or even acceptable) elsewhere and that privileges the 

objective of reconciliation. First, local communities in 

Liberia—both historically and recently—have had to be 

far more self-reliant when it comes to maintaining 

internal public order than might be the case in countries 

in which the state’s power and presence has been far 

more pervasive at the local level. Without a capillary 

presence of the central state (other than that provided in 

the form of “deputized” traditional authorities), local 

communities in Liberia have long had strong incentives 

to not only deal with conflict when it erupts, but to also 

take steps that prevent it from erupting in the first place. 

Rural Liberia is thus not unlike many other similar 

social settings in Africa in which the anthropological 

literature testifies to similar concerns with dampening 

animosity within communities in which people have 

strong kinship ties and must figure out how to manage 

social conflict in a context of high socio-economic 

interdependence. Second, as has been documented to be 

the case in much of West Africa, Liberian understandings of what causes individuals to behave as they do 

strike a balance in the relative emphasis that is placed on 
52 Looking for Justice

the influence of social and other contextual factors versus 

individual will—a balance that is different than most 

Americans would implicitly strike. Part of the reason 

that Americans do not view broader social context as a 

justice issue is that their views of individual agency 

emphasize the power of the individual’s will over and 

against almost all circumstances—and thus locate the 

responsibility for choice almost singularly in the individual—apart from virtually any aspect of his or her social 

context. By way of contrast, Liberian cultural views of 

agency seem to implicitly theorize a greater role for 

contextual factors—especially social ones—in influencing and determining behavior. These contrastive views 

plays a powerful, if implicit, role in shaping social 

expectations about what will satisfactorily “treat” a 

problem and what the scope of justice should and should 

not be. 
 53

5

Introduction: Local Perceptions that

Matter

Another core set of findings from our data relates to the impact of recent efforts by the state to limit, modify, or regulate 

the customary justice system. Here, too, as much is revealed 

from the actual experiences and case histories we have collected as from the direct expression of views by our interviewees. Our data reveals a great deal about how most Liberians 

perceive and are reacting to developments in the following 

specific areas: 

1. The government’s efforts to remove matters of serious 

crime from the jurisdiction of the customary justice 

system;

2. The introduction of the concept of human rights—in 

particular, children’s rights and the rights of criminal 

defendants—and of laws and policies that promote these 

rights; 

3. The efforts to prohibit any use of TBO;

4. The new policies related to gender issues, most particularly the new rape law; 

5. The broader efforts to establish rule of law in one of its 

most commonly implied senses—that of uniformity.

What emerges from our data are two sets of commonly 

voiced concerns. The first concern highlights a cultural clash, 

whereby a majority—although not all—rural Liberians interviewed view all or some of these state regulations as undesirable and negative intrusions upon their traditions and social 

norms. While some attribute foreign influence as the source 

of these intrusions, many also view recent government policies 

through a different lens that emphasizes a specific interpretation of Liberian history in which a Monrovian elite is (again) 

seeking to impose its norms on those in the “country.” 

The second concern highlights the unintended and inadvertent consequences some of these regulations have had 

on rural Liberians. Thus, while policymakers surely intended 

these regulations to improve Liberians’ access to justice and to 

strengthen and assert the legitimacy of the state, there is significant evidence that in many parts of Liberia they are having the opposite effect. In essence, many Liberians see these 

regulations as undermining the effectiveness of the customary 

system in resolving issues of grave concern to the population, 

without providing any effective alternative avenues to do so. 

As a result there is mounting popular disquiet with what is 

perceived as a growth of crime and malfeasance, and a disturbing tendency to blame the government for this state of 

affairs not only because its courts have proven incapable of 

attending to these problems, but most of all because it has 

prevented other institutions believed to be capable of attending to them from doing so. 

It is by no means our intention to question the ultimate 

goals that recent government laws, regulations, and policies are 

meant to serve. However, we do believe that a robust empirical understanding of Liberians’ reactions to these policies and 

their on-the-ground impact is vital for policymakers if they 

hope to plot strategies for change that include realistic provisions for garnering local endorsement and compliance, and 

that are sufficiently sensitive to the dangers of social unrest 

and political blowback in a country that is still consolidating 

a recently won peace. Ultimately, these local perceptions must 

be recognized as no less consequential than the objectives and 

intentions of policymakers or than the actual on-the-ground 

capacity of the state itself, to any hard-nosed assessment of 

the trade-offs that must be confronted in different policy options for cultivating rule of law over the next decade in Liberia. Most specifically, these local perceptions are germane 

to any assessments of whether customary justice mechanisms 

can and should play a role in cultivating rule of law in Liberia 

and, if so, how exactly to configure any relationship between 

formal and customary justice institutions. 

Jurisdictional Limitations

A first finding concerning the state policy that forbids customary justice actors from handling questions of serious 

crime is that, for the most part, it has been effectively communicated to the chiefs. Our justice practitioner interviews 

reveal that chiefs at all levels are well aware that these matters 

views on regulation of the

customary system
54 Looking for Justice

are to be turned over to the 

state authorities—either 

by referral to the district 

commissioner, the police, 

or the magistrate courts. 

We also find that chiefs 

are, for the most part, 

adhering to these policies 

and refusing to take cases 

that involve death, rape, violence that induces blood, and—

less consistently—major theft, and referring these cases to 

state officials. 

There are ultimately some significant differences between 

the state and local communities over where the line should be 

drawn for jurisdiction in some types of cases. Local communities tend to agree that very serious cases—for example, brutal rape of an old woman, intentional killing by a community 

outsider—should be handled by state authorities. At the same 

time they are generally dismayed that such cases are being—

in their view—woefully handled by the state courts. There is 

also broad consensus that chiefs are generally better equipped 

for and that customary principles are far more appropriate to 

the task of bringing justice to all but the most heinous forms 

of murder, rape, and violence. Manslaughter (involving accidental killing) and instances of alleged rape between young 

lovers in particular were examples of cases that respondents 

felt the customary system could resolve more effectively and 

for which it would produce rulings viewed as more fair than 

those afforded by the formal court system. 

Indeed, chiefs are frequently pressured by members of 

their community to consider cases that they are technically 

forbidden from taking. And many chiefs admit that in practice they do so, provided both parties request it. There is also 

evidence that once cases are in the formal court system, chiefs 

and elders may request, or even demand, that the case be referred back to them for out-of-court settlement. Such requests 

are often honored. Our data also points to numerous instances 

where the police or magistrates—on their own initiative—refer such cases back to the customary authorities for resolution. 

This seems to occur with particular frequency in cases that 

involve witchcraft.

Quite a number of chiefs expressed “embarrassment” that 

so many types of cases have been taken away from them, along 

with considerable concern about the inadvertent social consequences that have resulted. One of these is erosion of the perceived authority, effectiveness, and relevance of chiefs. Thus, 

many chiefs lament the downgrading of their own standing 

in their communities, frustrated that these limitations undermine respect—both by the government and their own constituents—for their state-given mandate to keep order in the 

community. As one paramount chief lamented:

So we are actually downplayed by the citizens. We 

are no regarded as chiefs any longer. We are not 

allowed to collect any bond fee nor writ fees. All 

we are to do is to collect only sitting fee which is 

just little amount. . . . Our people do not regard us 

any longer, we are completely down. So as the 

result when we sometimes invite law breaker they 

deliberately refuse saying there is no writ.

Paramount chief in Nimba

Several chiefs even attribute the reduction of their jurisdiction to greedy and power hungry formal justice actors. 

They provide examples of magistrates and justices of the peace 

who take cases of all kinds—not just serious crimes—away 

from the chiefs, even when the parties themselves had chosen a customary mechanism. Several further relate instances 

in which magistrates and justices of the peace issue writs of 

arrest against chiefs and other customary actors—including 

Poro leaders—for handling matters beyond their jurisdiction. 

Typical responses include the following:

[When we resolve cases] the Justice of the Peace 

issue writ against us for undermining them and 

arrest the disputing parties who have already reconciled. . . . There are some JoPs with writ in their 

files looking for cases. Sometimes when they see is 

settling disputes among our people they stopped 

us and issue writ of arrest.

Paramount chief in Nimba

Nowadays the Poros master is afraid to [resolve 

disputes] because nowadays if physical violent 

occurs in town and the Poros master comes out 

and handles the situation one of the disputing parties leaves and goes to the magistrate and issues 

writ against the Poro master. The magistrate will 

then arrest all the members of the Poro and have 

them taken to court. While in court the magistrate will compel each one of them to further bond 

and after that the magistrate will release the case 

Chiefs are frequently 

pressured by members 

of their community to 

consider cases that 

they are technically 

forbidden from taking. 
Part II: Research Findings 55

to be settled traditionally which is a problem for 

us. This is causing a lot of criminal activity.

Zone chief in Nimba 

Both chiefs and many other interviewees also decry the detrimental impact on the social order of policies that prevent 

them from judging certain types of cases or using certain 

types of methods. As one chief related:

The abolition of the sassywood from our traditional people is harming us greatly because people 

take it as an opportunity to damage others lives. 

Because precedence is not being set by our traditional people, so the criminal rate increases greatly. 

So in short, the witchcrafts are very happy because 

no justice on them. Chief in Nimba

In large part, this mounting social frustration can be attributed to the vacuum created by the implementation of policies 

that restrict the scope of customary justice institutions but 

provide no genuinely viable alternatives.

Liberians from across the social spectrum widely view this 

vacuum as a place in which the powerful, wealthy, and socially 

connected are increasingly able to secure unfair advantages in 

dispute resolutions. As we have already discussed, many Liberians voice the view that a litigant is most likely to appeal to 

the formal court system if and when they believe they will be 

able to leverage money or social connections that will produce 

admittedly partial (and unjust) rulings that are in their favor. 

Awareness that this can and often does happen has in turn 

played a role in also undermining local confidence in the customary system by encouraging some people to “shoot straight” 

to the formal system if they believe they have the leverage for 

exercising undue influence therein. 

Ultimately, given the severe capacity and legitimacy constraints on the formal system that prevent it from effectively 

bringing crime to justice—both in the punitive and restorative 

senses previously described—most Liberians have concluded 

that the government’s prohibition against customary authorities handling any serious crime is promoting virtual impunity 

for perpetrators and chronic dissatisfaction among victims. 

Human Rights

Many interviewees expressed serious reservations about the 

introduction of “human rights” to their communities. It is 

striking from reading the interviews that to the overwhelming 

majority of Liberians the very term “human rights” has very 

negative connotations. Most commonly, it was understood by 

our interviewees to refer to two issues: children’s rights and 

the rights of criminal defendants—perhaps because it is advocacy on those issues that has been the most widespread.

With regard to children’s rights, most Liberians understand this to mean that parents may not beat their children, 

that children are not supposed to work, that parents must pay 

for their children to go to school, and that children may sue 

their parents in court or complain to other authorities (most 

notably the police) if these rights are not met. In some cases, 

Liberians’ reactions simply reveal their social practice of disciplining their children through physical punishment, and their 

reluctance to give this up. The emphasis on children’s ability to 

take their parents to court has broached a more serious social 

norm: the respect and deference that children and youth are 

expected to have vis-à-vis their parents and elders. Thus, many 

Liberians fault the introduction of these foreign concepts 

for undermining social order and cultivating waywardness 

among their local youth. As three male focus group members 

related:

The main problem now in this district is this issue 

of the misuse of child right. Some children are 

using the child right opportunity to disrespect 

their parents. Whenever parents want to discipline 

their children, some authorities will come up and 

say do not abuse the child right.

Male youth in Nimba

This child right business is something that the 

human rights should be blamed for because they 

are not making children to understand their rights 

by calling them to explain to them. So some children just have the mind to do whatever they want 

to do. Male youth in Nimba

The thing you call here human rights, is really 

human wrong because they go in the society bush 

which is not right. Long ago when we were going 

to school we respected everybody. When we saw 

our elders we respected them, but not this time 

children don’t respect their elders.

Male elders in Nimba

Our data also reveals a more complex problem that stems 
56 Looking for Justice

from economic realities that most rural Liberians confront 

and that human rights advocates may either not be sufficiently 

aware of or simply choose to ignore. In the rural Liberian context, any outright prohibition on child labor and the right to 

education pose a serious economic burden for most Liberian 

families, as noted in the following typical statements:

As for me, I don’t like this system of human rights 

law. In fact, it will never help us in preparing our 

children to represent us tomorrow. For example, I 

bore 25 children and now look at my age and how 

the war has damaged our living standard. If 

human rights law says that I am not allowed to ask 

them work for me, then how do I sustain them? So 

let this human rights law wait a bit.

Chief in Nimba 

Another group that has spoiled or loosed our children in the street is the Human Rights Group. 

The child rights advocates have caused some of 

our children to be very stubborn, not even wanting 

to help their parents to work. For example, I am 

surviving on the production of cane juice [locally 

distilled liquor]. If I tell my child come and help 

me pack the cane at the distillation site, he tells me 

I am going to play football because I have the right 

to play. And at the end I will be compelled to pay 

his school fees because he has the right to go to 

school. Male zoe in Nimba

The effects on household labor may also play a role—along 

with concerns with social respect—in why rural Liberian 

women in particular seemed so thoroughly vociferous in their 

opposition to “child rights” laws and initiatives. As multiple 

female focus group members stated:

We, the women, are the ones who bear the child 

and suffer for the child. If your child does something wrong to you as a mother when you whip 

that child then government can hold you and take 

you to human right. They don’t want this time 

children to respect the parents. Any time the child 

does something wrong and you talk the child will 

say he/she is going to live on his/her own. 

Female elders in Lofa

Really there is disrespect between the mother and 

the child and human right causes this. The first 

time when the children do anything bad you 

would frighten them saying I will beat you or punish you. But if you beat your child now he will take 

you to police station. When we were growing up 

when a child was told papa is coming or mama is 

coming, he is frighten. Female elders in Lofa 

For me I have a serious problem with the police. 

The police have introduced a system where whenever your children do wrong, and you try to discipline them, they will invite you and your child to 

explain; which is not good to our tradition. This is 

making the children very arrogant. The recent 

most recent case took place with my six children. I 

believe the human right should be the place to take 

the children for advice. My child and I standing in 

public for the both of us to explain is a complete 

disrespect. Female adults in Grand Gedeh

In our country, we have child right but yet to have 

parent rights. If your child does wrong and you try 

to restrict them, the authority-in-charge arrests 

you. This has gone to the extent that our children 

are all on the streets. We have even spent more 

money for them to get in school but some of them 

deliberately refused to attend classes. With all 

these naughty acts if we try to discipline them we 

are arrested. Female adults in Nimba

Several interviewees elaborated on the notion that the interior of Liberia is not ready for such “Western” concepts:

Actually the human right law only belongs to the 

white people because they have airplane, cars etc 

and they are sufficient in their homes and they 

have all their children needs and wants but as for 

us we are very poor and in need if our children do 

not help us to do some work for us will continue to 

remain in poverty. . . . Human rights law has also 

caused our children to be loosed up in the street 

and even involving themselves into criminal acts 

like burglary, gambling and are becoming drug 

addicts. Paramount chief in Nimba
Part II: Research Findings 57

I want for human rights to deposit some money in 

banks that will be used to support our children so 

that we can not ask them to do anything for us. If 

we receive this support from them we will not 

trouble them any longer but they should not go 

about and suppress us and knowing fully well that 

we are in need greatly.

Paramount chief in Nimba

Those systems are not bad but our people are not 

prepared to meet the challenges of these systems. 

These systems . . . work predominantly in literate 

society such as America, Europe, and other parts 

of the world. These countries did not just jump 

into; rather, it took them many years to adapt this 

system. So, we are in a desperate situation when 

we graduated from war. The cost of living is high. 

Then you expect to live like the Westerner? 

County inspector in Nimba

The other issue most commonly associated with “human 

rights” is the right of criminal defendants to counsel and adequate detention facilities. Reactions to this issue are particularly revealing of most Liberians’ beliefs about what constitutes justice. As described earlier, to most Liberians the most 

important element of justice is reconciliation, which requires 

the perpetrator to admit fault and may involve apology and 

compensation. In this light, human rights advocacy on behalf 

of criminal defendants is seen as an effort to free the perpetrator from blame, and thus as an enormous obstacle to the aim 

of reconciliation. Typical statements by respondents include 

the following:

I am actually against the idea of the human right 

or child rights in Liberia. The formation of the 

human rights or child rights has caused many 

problem for our country. Some murderers have 

been free from prison by human rights advocates. 

Some of them even boast that, “If I kill, the 

human rights advocates will plead for me.” So the 

idea of the human rights is causing serious problem for the society. Female adult in Nimba

I only see human rights pleading for criminals 

who commit crimes like murder, rape, and stealing. When these crimes are committed by these 

naughty boys and jailed, human rights law pleading for criminals. Male adult in Nimba

Interestingly, many Liberians also see human rights as giving an unfair advantage to the perpetrator, at the expense of 

the victim. As the following statements suggest, underlying 

this complaint is the belief that justice is achieved by both 

parties coming together to bring out the truth and agree on 

redress—a belief directly at odds with the adversarial system 

of the formal courts:

But if one of the activities of the human rights is 

to also plead for perpetrators to be freed from jail 

or crimes then it is not right for our society. The 

human rights advocates, in such a situation, must 

make it their duty to call both parties. Go through 

transparent justice, but pleading for only perpetrator is an unusual habit that may cause problem for 

our society. Female adult in Nimba

When you are taken there as a prisoner who commits crime, you have opportunity to go anywhere. 

They are well taken care of. They eat delicious 

food and wear decent clothes. And they are put 

out to go and do contract. So if the traditional 

people will choose to go into the matter, we will 

be satisfied. Instead of what the people have 

brought and infringing on our rights. 

Male adult in Nimba

A third problematic “human rights” issue occasionally 

cited by interviewees relates to the practice of public work 

and community labor. Several chiefs complain that because of 

“human rights” people no longer respect the chiefs and Poro 

masters when there is community work to be done, such as 

brushing public roads, constructing bridges, and working on 

community farms. Unlike in the past, community members 

insist that they must get paid for their labor. 

Trial by Ordeal

Our data contains an immense amount of information about 

the uses of TBO and how Liberians have understood and reacted to the ban on it issued by the government. A first finding 

is that there are a wide variety of types of practices and reasons 

for their use that are lumped under the terms TBO and/or 

“sassywood,” and that differences among these practices are 
58 Looking for Justice

immensely important to consider for purposes of formulating 

legislation and policy. 

We can identify three overarching categories of uses of 

TBO. First, it can be used as a means of identifying the guilty 

party when an admission is not forthcoming. In such cases, 

some form of TBO is administered to the suspect or suspects, 

and it is believed that only the guilty party will suffer some 

form of harm. Second, it can be used to ensure that truth is 

spoken by suspects, witnesses, or others. Here, it is believed 

that those who undergo the TBO will suffer some form of 

harm if they do not tell the truth. TBO in this way is used 

most commonly as part of the fact-finding in a customary 

proceeding, but it is also cited as an important way for men to 

determine if their wives committed adultery. In a variation on 

the first and second uses, suspects themselves may ask to undergo TBO in order to prove their innocence. Third, TBO can 

be used to “get rid of the witch.” This is most commonly used 

to enable suspected—and admitted—members of witch societies (known variously as snake societies, “Bambah” societies, 

Korsaw-Korsaw, among other names) to “swear off the witch” 

and become mainstream members of the community.

It is equally important to distinguish between different 

types of methods of TBO and the logic behind their use. 

Thus, one set of methods involves practices that are physically 

harmful prima facie—meaning that they would be expected 

to cause physical harm if applied in any normal situation outside of the ritual context of TBO. Examples of such forms 

include the ingestion of poison, the application of hot metal to 

the skin (usually described as a “cutlass”), and the immersion 

of one’s hand in a pot of boiling oil. The logic of TBO in this 

form is that the supernatural power of the ritual will protect the 

innocent from harm (by not burning the skin, or by forcing 

the innocent to vomit ingested poison), but not the guilty, who 

will suffer physical harm or even death. This form is generally 

used to identify a guilty party.

A categorically different set of TBO methods involve activities that are not physically harmful prima facie—such as 

eating a small clot of dirt, taking an oath, or trying to separate 

two brooms after these have been lain on top of each other 

(there are many more specific variations in this category). The 

logic of the TBO ritual in this form is that the supernatural 

power of the ritual will identify the one who is guilty and/or 

who does not tell the truth, and punish them by ensuring that 

the guilty or untruthful person will (eventually) suffer malaise 

if they perform a mundane and harmless act within a defined 

ritual context. In another version of this method, a guilty person will supposedly be incapable of doing a mundane and 

harmless task that others who are innocent can do with ease 

(such as uncrossing two brooms when one is laid on top of the 

other). This form may be used for any of the three purposes 

described earlier. 

While not entirely consistent, many Liberians use the 

term “sassywood” to refer to the first method (administering 

harm), and the term “cowfur” to refer to the second method 

(administering a form of oath). (For more Liberian views on 

sassywood and a glossary of sassywood terms and practices, 

see tables 6 and 7.)

From a rule of law and international human rights perspectives, there is a rather 

significant distinction to 

be drawn between a ritual 

that requires someone to 

swallow poison to ascertain 

their guilt or innocence, 

and another that asks 

them to ingest harmless 

dirt or take an oath on the 

theory that a supernatural 

power will consequently 

cause them to suffer physical harm if they lie after doing so. Indeed, the latter is not 

very different from the oath of truth taken on the Bible in 

many formal court proceedings in the United States. This distinction is all the more important when we consider another 

characteristic of these rituals as they were described to us: that 

participation should not be forced but must be voluntary. In 

fact, in several of our cases, it was the suspects and/or witnesses 

who asked to undergo TBO in order to clear their names. At 

the same time, we should note that there are also examples of 

suspects who refused to take the TBO, and as a consequence 

were presumed guilty.

An additional noteworthy point is that most Liberians 

believe that TBO methods only function effectively in determining guilt when infractions have been committed within 

the same community and among its members. In this sense it 

is not believed that TBO can be applied to a stranger outside 

the community. If a visiting guest of a community member 

is believed to have committed a crime, TBO can be applied 

to a member of the host family who agrees to stand in for 

the guest. 

A second set of findings relates to Liberians’ reactions 

to the ban on TBO and the consequences of that ban in 

It was the suspects . . . 

who asked to undergo 

TBO in order to clear 

their names. We should 

note that there are also 

examples of suspects 

who refused to take 

the TBO, and . . . were 

presumed guilty.
Part II: Research Findings 59

Table 6: Selected Quotes on Sassywood

This is the way our people grew up over five hundred years ago. They 

practice the use of sassywood to bring criminal to justice. And if the 

criminal, witchcraft is guilty, he, she is given oath so as not to repeat such 

act. So my recommendation to the government is let her amend that law, 

and let sassywood be practiced by our people because it is the only means 

of dealing with criminal case by our traditional people. 

Sometimes when there is a land dispute between two parties, 

according to what I was told, they usually abstract some of the earth 

dirt and put it in the water and both parties will swear on it. Each 

parties will say if this portion of land we are talking about is not part 

of my land I should die. As they have been explaining to me that if 

one of the parties lies he or she will die from that swear.

We believe to be oath is, the sharing of drink from the same cup and the 

breaking of kola nut that was a sign of unity and reconciliation. But we did 

not put herbs together and forced them to take in to get them reconcile. 

No, it wasn’t done that way.

I personally don’t like sassywood that hurts people. I am totally against 

those types of forceful confessions. We simple thing like rice or money 

for our oath here but if the government wants to stop it, it should show 

us something that we can use to get the truth out of people.

So we contacted one fellow to administer sassywood. When he came 

and heard people accusing the little girl, so he concluded that it is the 

little girl who stole the money, which was not true. The fact came out 

when the individual who stole the money was purchasing many items. 

He was arrested and admitted that he stole the money. So some of 

the sassywood are not true but are done with the motive of making 

money.

Actually sassywood has categories. There are some that are bad 

most especially the one that was administered with hot cutlass. 

There is some that is not bad. It was actually giving chiefs respect. 

When someone commits a crime and is in hidden, everyone is called 

and asked to swear. Since the sassywood affects those who are 

guilty and does not confess, people were afraid to commits crimes 

but nowadays the whole community is loosed.

This sassywood thing here is hurting us here. Of course I don’t know what 

really government see inside, you see these witchcraft and thieves, since 

they heard about it they are happy, so they get ground now so they don’t 

want to listen to anybody again. So anything they want to do they can do 

it because no sassywood.

It is because of the abolition of the sassywood that causing many 

people to die in our community. When these cases are reported to 

the court, the judges ask you to provide proof to clear all reasonable 

doubt. And when you explain, they let them go free. So our people 

are really dying.

In fact we were practicing trial by ordeal even in recent time and it 

was transparent and fair and it was the own fastest medium use by our 

traditional people to psychological make perpetrator to admit to his or her 

wrong doing. But since the government put stop to it, there have been 

series of problems in traditional communities.

My son that sassywood thing we can walk from here to Monrovia, the 

thing killing us left and right, the town that you passed the Konobo 

before you reach to Touboh. Go there and ask and say how many 

people died in this place here? You see the land commissioner that 

is there, his wife mother died just like that.

Interviewer: During the land dispute case, why didn’t you carry on trial 

by ordeal?

Respondent: I am too civilized for that. 

We don’t believed in sassywood, when we see people playing with 

sassywood we can laugh at them, we are Muslim. We hold one 

thing, we don’t hold two things.

Yes it is good to stop it because we don’t know what most of that 

traditional medicine that we swear on are made of. Take for example if 

the man who is administering the sassywood is against you, he will harm 

you under the pretense of administering justice. I will be happy if the 

governments stop because truth in any case is not hidden.

We cannot blame the government because it doesn’t know if some 

of the sassywoods are truthful and not because some people falsely 

administer sassywood which leads to the death of people. In every 

society there are bad apples and government cannot base its decision 

on the isolated cases and put a complete halt to the administration of 

sassywood without consulting the indigenous people.

I think it is good for the government to put stop to the sassywood, because 

sometimes the sassywood may not catch the right person and this may 

cause confusion in the society.

No, sassywood is not transparent and fair. It is part of our earlier 

culture. It is actually like fake magic. Magic is used by the magician 

to satisfy certain people. It is like witchcraft.

Before the abolishing of the sassywood, these wicked guys were 

arrested and given oath to stop wickedness in the community. And by 

administering oath they are subjected to stop bewitching innocent lives. 

If they defile the oath, they definitely die. Also the trial by ordeal was 

very important to our traditional people. For example, the TBO was 

used to make women who are living adulterous life to confess to their 

husband.

As for witchcraft case, the thing that we were depending on to 

give us fact is the oath (sassywood) and has been abolished. So my 

recommendation to the government is that let us be allowed to 

administered oath (sassywood) because it is the only thing that the 

witchcraft is afraid of. The traditional oath is the only means we have 

to administer to them so that they can give us the facts when they 

bewitched people.

Nankpeah is a traditional oath and when suspects are brought before it, 

each one shows his/her hands over it. A question is asked concerning the 

incident if guilty or not, if you are the doer you will immediately start to 

cough but if you are innocent and clear about the incident you will go free.

Actually, let no one lie to you, sassywood can not kill. Many 

individuals who were involved into witchcraft activities were given 

sassywood not to repeat their wickedness but they repeated it and 

nothing was done to them.

When the sassywood is conducted, it clarifies every doubt. If you are 

involved in the act, it shows you out. And if you are not, it does not 

harms you. So abolishing the sassywood, for me I do not agree. When 

the sassywood is conducted, it clarifies every doubt. If you are involved 

in the act, it shows you out. And if you are not, it does not harms you. So 

abolishing the sassywood, for me I do not agree.

The period when sassywood was administered was safer than these 

days.
60 Looking for Justice

their view. An overwhelming finding of our research is that 

the majority of Liberians we interviewed feel fairly strongly 

that at least some forms of TBO should be reinstated because the ban is causing considerable harm in their communities. Along with nearly all the chiefs that we interviewed, 

a majority of Liberians from across the social spectrum bemoan the loss of at least some forms of TBO, and believe 

that this prohibition is depriving them of one of their most 

reliable and straightforward means of solving crime and 

keeping order. Common statements on this issue include 

the following:

 Because we are not allowed to administer sassywood so many take it to be an opportunity to 

engage into criminal activities, most especially the 

witchcraft activities have increased in the community. . . . Actually, to admit, when we were 

allowed to administer sassywood our people were 

Table 7: Glossary of Sassywood

Sassywood 

method

Description Sassywood 

method

Description

Cutting sand Consulting an oracle or soothsayer to divine the 

truth.

Swearing or oath Suspect either ingests innocuous substance, or 

touches an object, and swears that they are innocent 

or will repent from their actions. If they are speaking 

falsely, or dishonor their vow, they may be subject to 

spiritual forces that will bring about their death. No 

actual physical harm is inflicted or poison ingested, 

apparently. Only if the person is guilty will medicine 

activate. Witnesses may also have to place a small 

monetary donation as collateral to vouch for their 

veracity. If they are caught lying, they forfeit their 

money.

Striking lightning A ritual specialist is used, often from neighboring 

Guinea, who will cause lightning to strike the 

guilty if they do not atone for their crime.

Bible swearing, 

Bible oath

“My case was carried to him and he allowed the 

people to bribe him and he went against me and 

even put me in jail. These judges were told to 

administer sassywood in court to the witnesses 

but still we find no transparency. The court allows 

the both parties to take in oath by kissing the Holy 

Bible. Some people called it that way because you 

swear upon your life.”

Standing on a 

calabash

Everyone in the community stands on a calabash 

as directed by a soothsayer. Whoever is on the 

calabash when it breaks is the thief.

Eating or ingestion 

ceremony

All suspects are forced to imbibe a substance, which 

may be poisonous or innocuous, and told to tell the 

truth. If they lie or are the true criminal they will be 

taken ill, vomit, or die.

Switch method, or 

crossing brooms

“He came and brought two brooms as tools 

to administer the sassywood. The brooms 

were intercrossed in each other and during the 

process, if anyone holds it and move it from 

apart then you are innocent; if not, then you are 

guilty of the crime.”

Cowfur, or cawful “Cowfur, it is prepared in food and all of the 

community, innocent victims, as well as perpetrators, 

partake of it.” Those who are guilty will die within two 

years. Emphasis is placed on the entire community 

ingesting the cowfur, not just the suspect(s).

Hot cutlass A cutlass is heated until red hot and then placed 

against the skin of all those under suspicion. It 

is typically placed against the bare feet of the 

suspect. It is believed that only those who are 

guilty will feel the heat of the cutlass and be 

burned by it.

Curful “If something gets missing and everyone denies the 

allegation, another form of the sassywood is curful, 

is prepared in food and everyone eats it together 

and give a grace period for the suspects to confess 

and if not he, she dies after that time.”

Hot oil Similar to hot cutlass, only the guilty will be 

burned or feel the pain of heated oil. “Firstly, 

you have to say that if it were you who stole the 

item, the hot oil placed on me must burn my 

hand; but if my name was falsely used against 

the stolen item, that hot oil is not going to burn 

me. But if I were the one who stole the item, I 

would be caught.”

Glee “It is form of hemlock or concussion that normally 

played psychologically on the suspect to at time 

confess under duress. It is administered in two 

forms. By heating a cutlass and pressing it against 

the suspect’s body part.”
Part II: Research Findings 61

not dying as the way they are dying presently and 

there were not many criminal cases as we have 

today. Most especially, the witchcraft cases, 

they were controllable. But now these people are 

loose and we are unable to control them. We 

observed now that many young people just die 

without reason. 

Town chief in Nimba 

If the practice of trial by ordeal is abolished, 

criminal rate will increase, the Bambah society, 

snake society members, they will gain more and 

be free to practice wickedness because sassywood 

is no more administered on them and our people 

will continue to die innocently. 

Adult male in Nimba 

The sassywood as a whole, when there is crime 

committed and the doer is hidden, the sassywood 

can bring them out immediately but nowadays 

some cases remain undone. Whether you steal 

someone thing and denies there is nothing to 

clarify it. So at this present moment, we have no 

means to bring some of these cases out. 

Paramount chief in Nimba 

Table 7 (Continued)

Sassywood 

method

Description Sassywood 

method

Description

Hot stones in oil “When the sassywood man came, he came 

with some little rocks in a pot with oil. This was 

placed on a hot fire and it boil. Afterwards, the 

sassywood man put his hand in the hot oil and 

took out the stones. He said gentlemen do you 

see it; we said yes. At the trial there two white 

men. One of them was the general manager 

and the other white man said he had been in 

Kenya where similar thing happened and they 

found out and it worked so he tried encouraging 

his colleague to do it but he said no. After the 

ordeal was performed, the lot never fell on any 

of those employees present except two other 

employees that were absent. So the sassywood 

man concluded that the absentee were 

responsible for the missing item.

Taking a stone from 

the spot

A method of Trial by Ordeal used in land disputes 

in which disputing parties are forced to ingest earth 

from the disputed land to see which person is the 

rightful owner. “Then we could have put the stones 

from the same ground in water where the parties 

would have taken an oath on the land. If anyone 

lies, then the oath makes you useless.”

Seven pieces of red 

pepper

“When they say a black bag is missing and you 

say you don’t know anything about it, they will 

take the pepper and put it in the water, but you 

will not wash your face with the water, it will be 

placed under the white cloth. They will bring 

it around and ask if anyone knows something 

about the missing bag and if you say you don’t 

know anything about, they will ask you to swear 

or make an oath to the seven peppers. In the 

process you will say, ‘If I know anything about 

the missing item these are my eyes.’ Truly, I 

saw seven persons taking this sassywood, and 

one person was caught in the process. Tears 

came from the boy who was guilty eyes. He was 

caught and he confessed that he took his sister 

money.”

Kafue This is essentially an oath that one swears when 

testifying in a traditional forum. Witnesses actually 

ingest food as a sign of honesty. “As for us, we don’t 

ask anybody to swear on traditional medicine. When 

we start a case, we request each party to bring five 

dollars each and buy something to eat which serves 

as kafue for us to say the truth.”

Country cuffs, or 

handcuffs

Means of binding ones hands in a painful 

position in order to elicit a confession, or to 

detain a suspected criminal.

Trolou “A country pot fill with herbs and kola nuts. If a 

suspect is in hidden and we split the kola nuts and 

swear over it and place it over the pot. Every body 

will be asked to eat portion of the kola nut. The 

person who is guilty will definitely be cursed by the 

agreement.”

Kola nut in hands No Description Available
62 Looking for Justice

The witchcraft business is on the increase in 

this town because the government has said that 

no one should give sassywood. The witchcrafts 

are very active now. The government is causing 

the witchcraft to be flexible and they are on the 

increase; the young women and men are just 

dying mysteriously here. Even next door Ivory 

Coast, people are still practicing sassywood. If 

you killed your own child in witch, they know 

what to do to you over there.

Female ex-combatants in Grand Gedeh

A significant subset of our interviewees draw distinctions 

between different categories of TBO, and our research indicates that there is considerable variation in how Liberians 

assess the potential legitimacy, efficacy, and social importance 

of these different sociospiritual methods. Thus, for example, 

there appears to be much wider variation in local opinions 

about whether the category of prima facie physically harmful acts should be allowed, and even whether it consistently 

provides reliable results. Those who are against it either object to the potential for serious bodily harm, and/or question 

whether it is a reliable method to compel truthful confessions 

and identify perpetrators. Thus, as the following statement 

demonstrates, some interviewees cited their own experience 

in sassywood application in which it failed to identify the 

culprit, or in which they were witness to a deliberate bias or 

abuse in the application. 

“Sassywood” is not transparent and fair. It is part 

of our earlier culture. It is actually like fake 

magic. Magic is used by the magician to satisfy 

certain people. It is like witchcraft. . . . The reason [people say it works] is usually because 

someone had given them information that the 

person is a real criminal, and that they know for 

a fact, that he had done it. They do fact findings 

and then pin the case on the person. I know this 

because they have accused many persons falsely. 

Maybe a woman had been involved in witchcraft 

before, now as soon as something happens, 

people will call for the sassywood and when they 

come, they will accuse the woman, even though 

she had nothing to do with that case. If a person 

was caught stealing before, if anything got missing, usually the sassywood person would accuse 

that person. It is like you having a bad child. 

Every time something goes wrong, you suspect 

that child, even though, the child may not be 

guilty. That is how sassywood is. It is a guessing 

game. Male adult in Lofa

However, others readily bore witness to their own and 

others’ experience with the effectiveness of even the most 

extreme sassywood methods. For example, this informant in 

Lofa stated:

Some one performed [sassywood] on me at 

Paynesville town hall. At that time I used to sell 

dry pepper. This man came to me in search of 

empty room. After I lodged him he stole all the 

bags of pepper that was in the room. We were so 

worried and did not know what to do. In this 

state, one Kpelle lady promised to help us if we 

only give her 1000 LD. We gave it to her and she 

took use to the Paynesville town hall by then it 

was in 2005. The sassywood man use hot iron on 

each of us feet whoever the doer was the iron 

would burn him or her. This was my first time 

experiencing this process. In this process the 

trial by ordeal man used hot red cutlass on our 

skin particularly on your leg. Every one of us 

that were selling for the people went through the 

process and none of us got burnt by this red hot 

cutlass. I personally did not experience any pain 

from the hot red cutlass. . . . When the sassywood was conducted it caught the very man that 

slept in the room. Yet he still denied it. For this 

he brought his own sassywood man to redo the 

process. When the process was conducted he was 

caught again. After this, we went to police and 

they made that identical man to sign document. 

He even paid half of the money in question. 

Male adult in Lofa

As the following statements indicate, there is less controversy and more consensus that the other set of techniques 

that involve the ritualized empowerment of normally harmless activity can and should be allowed in order to encourage greater truthfulness, and to identify witches and compel 

them to forswear their socially destructive activities:
Part II: Research Findings 63

Even though we have been stopped not to administer oath [sassywood] to suspects or criminals but 

nowadays if we realize that the disputing parties 

are not Christian, there is an oath [sassywood] 

that we prepare if a suspect denies an allegation, 

everyone in the town will eat the cowfur [sassywood] so that the fact can come out and also, so 

that human right group can know that it is not 

only the suspect that ate the oath. After the eating 

of the oath, the person who commits the act will 

definitely comes out and says the truth and this set 

of oath is prepared in food [rice] with chicken or 

meat and everyone including the suspect will eat it 

and wash hands in one bucket of water. If the 

suspect is among those who ate the oath, he will 

definitely come out and confess.

Paramount chief in Nimba

There are some that are bad most especially the 

one that was administered with hot cutlass. There 

is some that is not bad. It was actually giving 

chiefs respect. When someone commits a crime 

and is in hidden, everyone is called and asked to 

swear. Since the sassywood affects those who are 

guilty and does not confess, people were afraid to 

commit crimes but nowadays the whole community is loosed. Paramount chief in Nimba

While it is true that I am in support of the TBO, 

there are two types of the sassywood that are usually administered and they are the one called 

“glee” and the one called “cowfur.” Of the two 

mentioned, the glee is the most dangerous. It is 

form of hemlock or concussion that normally 

played psychologically on the suspect to at time 

confess under duress. It is administered in two 

forms. By heating a cutlass and pressing it against 

the suspect’s body part. For this glee, I do not support. But for the cowfur, it is prepared in food and 

all of the community, innocent victims, as well as 

perpetrators, partake of it. That I subscribe to. But 

since the government abolished sassywood, we 

have experienced a vast increase in criminal 

activities in our community. 

Male adult in Nimba

Respondent: I won’t go to the herbalist because I 

believe in God. But [some people] prefer to go the 

herbalist that will put fear in people that they may 

come out to say the true. In this light, trial by 

ordeal that will take the life of another person 

should be put stop to, but the one that will put fear 

in people should not be put stop to.

Interviewer: Suppose somebody committed an 

act that involve murder. . . . If trial by ordeal was 

done to kill the person who kill the [victim] will 

that not also be proper?

Respondent: If the TBO can make that man 

boldly to say I did the act then the law will institute the penalty on that person according to 

human right. Male adult in Lofa

Finally, a minority of interviewees felt that the ban on 

TBO was a good thing. The majority of this group were 

Pentecostal Christians and Muslims, who either stated their 

unwillingness to participate in these methods and/or their 

disbelief in them altogether as a tenet of their faith. As the 

following statements demonstrate, this group also included a 

number of other men and women, young and old, who think 

TBO should be abolished as it is not effective and/or subject 

to abuse.

I think it is good that it has been abolished because 

lies are sometimes associated with such, thereby 

accusing the wrong person. 

Male adult in Lofa 

There is nothing good about it because it entails 

people going through suffering just to be able to 

find a criminal through guessing. It is not fair 

to the accused because no one is sure about 

anything. Male adult in Lofa

I think it is good for the government to put stop to 

the sassywood because, sometimes the sassywood 

may not catch the right person and this may cause 

confusion on the society. 

Female adult in Lofa 

I personally feel that TBO is not necessary now 

because it is out of my jurisdiction. Trying people 

by fire or other instruction sometimes make peo-
64 Looking for Justice

ple who are innocent to say things they are not to 

say. So TBO is not a good thing. We do not want 

to practice it. Paramount chief in Nimba

It is important to note that local views about TBO can 

in fact be quite nuanced and complex, such as in cases where 

individuals do not doubt the overall effectiveness of TBO but 

believe that it can—like any other method—fail when it is 

inexpertly or inaccurately applied. As one young male stated:

Another disadvantage is that the sassywood man 

may target two or three persons from among you 

so that whenever he performs it you could be 

caught. In this instance the hot cutlass will burn 

you whereby you are the doer of the act or another 

way around you may feel insecure because of the 

performers and therefore refused to go through 

the exercise when this happen people will start 

pointing fingers at you that you are guilty that is 

why you refused to go through the exercise.

Male youth in Lofa

Others recognized that TBO was not necessarily an accurate or fair method, but that it was preferable to the alternative 

of going to the state courts: 

TBO may or not be fair, but shouldn’t be abolished 

because the justice system is not correct now, in 

that whoever has money will win the case. Since 

the locals don’t have money they prefer using the 

method of TBO. In some instances, if you are 

female, the judge will want to have an affair with 

you before he can go through your case. 

Female adult in Monrovia 

Because if you say don’t do Sande, don’t do Poro 

and don’t do trial by ordeal, what preparation have 

you made for the people to know that the new 

concept is better for them? So you just come in the 

village and say, “Don’t practice this, don’t practice 

that.” I don’t think that will help. What are the 

substitutes or the alternatives that you are offering 

them? County inspector in Nimba

The majority of rural Liberians are in favor of reinstating 

some or all forms of TBO, and a great many of those are passionate in their pleas. Both chiefs and their local constituents 

believe that the effectiveness of customary chiefs has suffered 

significantly as the result of the government’s blanket prohibition against practicing TBO. This measure is almost universally noted for preventing customary justice practitioners from 

dealing with witchcraft in particular, which is viewed as a rapidly proliferating and very grave problem that is the source of 

great local concern and growing dissatisfaction with the new 

government. The prohibition against TBO is also viewed by 

many chiefs as having removed an important “measure of last 

resort” in their arsenal for ascertaining the truth in particularly difficult cases in which witnesses, a variety of forms of 

social persuasion and “advising,” and consultation with elders 

all prove unfruitful in resolving the differences between irreconcilable accounts. Thus, the ban on TBO is blamed for a 

litany of problems: the inability to resolve crime because they 

Text box 14

Interviewer: Why did you go to the zoe, chief, and others?

Respondent: The reason why I went to these people was because I went to the police and for more than a month they 

never find the goods.

Interviewer: Why did she go for the witchdoctor in Guinea? 

Respondent: The reason why she went to bring witchdoctor was because the case was with the police for three weeks 

without result, the marketing association another three weeks without any result, and the goods were not returned by 

those who stole it. I went to some friends and they advise me to get this man so that he can make possible for me to 

get my goods.

Interviewer: Why you did not get a zoe from Zorzor to find the goods instead you went to Guinea?

Respondent: I did it because the zoe that I went to in Zorzor told me that he can find the goods, but the person will 

die after the goods is found. Being a Muslim, I did not think that that was the best way as I simply wanted my goods 

and not to kill somebody.

Female adult in Lofa
Part II: Research Findings 65

cannot identify the guilty; the inability of the innocent to clear 

their name; a reduced incentive for parties to admit their guilt 

(given the lack of alternative means of proving it), and thus an 

undermining of traditional methods of “compromising” cases; 

a general increase in criminality and sense of impunity; and 

most significantly, a drastic increase in the most lethal forms 

of witchcraft. 

Faced with the prohibition on TBO, some chiefs recounted an active search for alternative strategies—although to date 

those pursued are generally deemed far inferior and less effective. Thus, some have opted to swear an oath on the Bible, as 

that was a practice approved in the formal system. One male 

zoe in Nimba county was more creative in finding alternative means to reform members of snake societies, although he 

still remained skeptical of ultimate success in the absence of 

sassywood:

The Bambah activities grew rampant and we 

became concerned. A meeting was called by us 

and decided that since the government has abolished the practice of trial by ordeal and the administering of sassywood, which had given rise to the 

increase of witchcraft activities in our community, 

what we can do to reform those young people who 

are bent on destroying lives in their community to 

becoming useful citizens in the community? It 

was concluded that all adults in the community 

make it his/her duty to educate those young people 

about development being made in Ganta by their 

counterparts who are engaged in building stores, 

clinics and houses; and that they could do the 

same only if they relinquish those negative vices 

and focused on positive things. Besides the parents, as chairman, I set up a committee to carry 

out the strategy throughout our towns, villages 

using persuasive method by calling on them members of the secret snake society. As the campaign 

gains momentum, some members of the Bambah 

came and openly confessed their activities. This 

time, we did not use force but persuasion and, as 

the result, some of them given out their juju willingly. . . .

Another team was setup to put these guys together 

and again educate them about the importance of 

living together in peace and harmony. Above all, 

the strategy we used was to advise them and compare their lives to that of others like Guasi-Boy, 

Sunday-boy, and other businessmen in Ganta and 

Nimba as a whole. We told them that those guys 

did not use horns or chalks to build these store and 

houses they are currently enjoying. This campaign 

continues in almost all parts of the both clans in 

control. But if the old system that was used in 

2003, where we were allowed to administer oath, 

sassywood, those boys couldn’t recondition the 

activities of Bambah society. 

Male zoe in Nimba

Interestingly, our research finds some evidence that the 

struggle to find alternatives to TBO for dealing with witchcraft may actually be strengthening other purely communitybased customary justice institutions—in particular, so-called 

secret societies, whose legitimacy is grounded in local sociocultural precepts, such as the Poro society. Unable to deal directly with witchcraft themselves because of the prohibition 

against TBO, a number of chiefs report that they now rely 

even more heavily on the ritual specialists of the Poro society 

to produce solutions in such cases. As a result, as the following respondent notes, social pressure to join these societies is 

increasing in at least some communities.

Another strategy was to encourage these guys who 

were not members of the Poro society to join 

so that they can thoroughly be counseled and 

educated. Male zoe in Nimba

Rape

From the outset, this field study was designed to capture 

gender-differentiation in perceptions and choices about 

justice options, most particularly so with respect to views 

on means of resolving crimes of sexual violence, including 

rape. Gender was therefore a primary social differentiator 

that shaped both our focus groups and individual case interview recruitment strategies. While we also collected a 

considerable amount of information on this topic from our 

interviews with chiefs, our analysis in this instance purposely lends rather greater weight to the more gender-balanced 

forms of our data (the individual case interviews and the 

focus groups) than to the utterances of chiefs (justice practitioner interviews), all of whom were men. 

While the concerted efforts and approach that we described produced a number of very revealing case studies 
66 Looking for Justice

and insightful focus group discussions, we think it important 

to note that the sensitivity of this subject may have limited 

our ability to probe this issue as fully as might be possible by 

a study that concentrated all of its efforts and resources on 

this issue alone. We therefore believe that our conclusions 

on this issue deserve additional attention and would benefit 

from the collection of more empirical evidence that could 

test our assessments and refine this analysis. That said, our 

data does reveal clear findings on some points and helps 

to put many additional issues in critical perspective. Most 

basically, a clear finding of our field research is that women 

and men both identify rape as a significant local problem. 

Below we explore findings related to how Liberians believe 

this problem should—and should not—be addressed.

The formal system and the new rape law

The majority of rural Liberians, including chiefs, are generally 

well aware that rape is an issue that the state justice system 

has reserved for its exclusive jurisdiction. While chiefs often 

express a belief that they are as well equipped as—or even better equipped than—the state courts to deal with such cases, as 

the following exchange demonstrates, they are aware of and 

are generally willing to comply with the policy to refer these 

cases to state justice authorities:

Interviewer: Do you resolve rape cases?

Paramount Chief: No, rape cases do not belong to 

me and I don’t venture around it because it belong 

to justice.

Interviewer: But you are dispensing justice in 

your office...

Paramount Chief: The reason is when rape cases 

occurred and we try to put it under control the 

[NGO] people complain to the Ministry of Internal 

Affairs that we are overlapping our functions—and 

so we let it go to its rightful place.

Paramount chief in Lofa

However, our research also indicates clearly that men 

and women alike believe that the crime of rape is not being 

adequately addressed by the state courts, in that, even in 

the most egregious cases, rapists taken to the police and/or 

courts generally get off with impunity. As the respondents 

report:

An old woman at age eighty was raped in [this 

town]. After eating her cold rice that morning, her 

grand children left her lying down. While in that 

mood, a boy entered on her, choked her and placed 

cloth in her mouth and raped her. Upon the 

completion of his mission, ran away. In the process 

of his escape, some students who were coming out 

for recess spotted him come out of the old ma’s 

room. Before they could enter to find out what was 

unfolding, they met her eyes turning as if for 

death. The old ma was brought to the circuit court 

fortunately, the boy was saw escaping but was 

pursued and arrested put to jail. . . . The old ma 

was brought here in hammock. When we saw her, 

we were all crying by then the boy was put to jail. 

We don’t know what happen later on the women 

group came and told us that the boy that was in jail 

is seen presently [free] in the town. They left the 

boy to Guinea. It had not taken long when the old 

ma died. Female elders in Lofa

Our women are raped and the perpetrators go free 

with impunity. In most cases, these cases are taken 

to the police station, but due to the lack correction 

room, prison cell, jail these perpetrators are 

released. Even babies are being raped in our setting and victims have been denied justice.

Female adults in Nimba

At times people go ahead in the community and 

then rape our sisters around here and nothing can 

be done about it. After they had been taken to the 

police station and then you will just see that they 

had been discuss verbally and at the end they will 

be set free. And that child is going with serious 

infection. Female youth in Nimba 

Throughout our interviews, the state’s justice officials were 

not only derided for failing to adequately address this problem, but in a fair number of cases were actually accused of 

perpetrating this crime themselves:

Many times we find out that those who carry out 

the raping activities are officials, like the bigger 

people within the town. Some of them do these 

for rituals and other things. They grab the 
Part II: Research Findings 67

small-small children and rape them. If you took 

the complaint to the Police station, the police 

will only come and say we will investigate. After 

few minutes, you will see the people [rapists] 

passing around and not in the police custody and 

nothing will come out of it in the end.

Female youth in Grand Gedeh 

The magistrate that is here now, he was accused of 

raping one girl by the name of X. . . . They took 

him to court [but] how they settled that case is still 

a mystery to us. We saw that magistrate back to 

his office here. He is still sitting down here. This 

is one of those things that I am against in this 

district. The man is boasting that he is an elephant. Female elders in Lofa 

The women are not respected here. If a woman 

has a case but doesn’t have money, that case will be 

judged against her or she must be willing to go to 

bed with that man. It happened in a case involving 

my husband and myself. I was charged $5,000 

Liberian dollars for the case to be investigated. 

When I complained of not being able to afford 

that amount, the judge asked me to go sleep with 

him. I told him that I rather not be right in the 

case than to do this. Female youth in Lofa

A second set of findings relates specifically to Liberians’ understanding of and views regarding the new rape law, 

which, among other things, criminalizes statutory and marital rape and sets strict punishments. We found virtually no 

evidence that most Liberians found this law to be working 

as an effective deterrent—which may relate at least in part 

to the perception that the state justice system simply cannot or will not take the measures that might provide local 

satisfaction anymore than it appears to in any other type of 

case. Stated one female focus group member:

If these new laws were being enforced or added to 

these other laws, well I just don’t think the new 

laws are . . . being enforced in this country. What 

I am saying, it is from experience, because once a 

man rapes a child and the child is taken to the 

hospital while the man is taken to the police station or jail, you will see that same man after few 

minutes being released from prison. That man 

will not even spend one week or sometimes there 

because the law they have at the police station is 

that once you carried someone there and they can’t 

see you constantly or within three days’ time, they 

will free the person.

Female youth in Grand Gedeh 

We also encountered a great deal of suspicion among 

members of a male focus group that the new rape law is being 

manipulated by those who seek leverage over other parties in 

unrelated disputes:

Some women are happy about this rape law while 

others are not. Some use this to falsely accuse their 

husbands probably because of some dispute.

Male adults in Lofa

Well, if a girl does not have money, she could easily lie on the man say that so and so individual rape 

me. And that particular case will be forwarded to 

the police station. Such a case will be influenced 

by the police and you will just remain in jail 

because of the law.

Male adults in Grand Gedeh

People are using the rape thing to make money. As 

you know, we are just from war and times are 

hard. I recommend that we have such forums or 

show film shows in our communities, towns and 

villages to educate our people on the importance 

of the new rape bill so that people will not misuse 

the opportunity. Before our people just used to 

talk rape cases with the elders, but now the victim 

has to go to hospital for 2 weeks and all that long 

process. We appreciate the changes, but we want 

them to take time to do it and use more time to 

give enough education to our people.

Male elders in Nimba

Because rape isn’t a small crime, whenever a 

woman proclaims it, it is taken very seriously. So 

they jailed the man for three days. Then the man’s 

family went to the girl and appealed to her 

because they knew it was false and that the girl 

wanted some money from the man. She agreed to 
68 Looking for Justice

withdraw the case if the fellow could give a certain amount of money. That was how it went.

Male adults in Grand Gedeh

While such suspicions seem particularly pronounced 

among men, it is important to note that they were also validated to some extent by women as well. Stated members of a 

female focus group:

[In terms of unpunished rape] the [biggest] problem is that there are some [rape victims] who are 

minors. But some of us are adults who men will 

claim want to help you. After you should have had 

fun and these men decide to discuss you, what will 

you do? Will you say that you were raped even if 

you personally took a man to your room? Will you 

go and explain this to the police station? You are 

not a child. You will be asked why you went to the 

man’s place or invited him to your place. There are 

laws too for such.

Female adults in Grand Gedeh

When we speak of the rape, let’s look at the other 

side of it too; because these days’ young girls, we 

the young girls, when they entered into a sex for 

money contract with a man them the money or the 

exact money they requested for after sex, then they 

take that person to the Police and say that the man 

raped them. Female youth in Grand Gedeh

At this juncture, it is important to emphasize that our 

research identifies a situation that is far more complex than 

simply one in which men are accusing women of manipulating the rape law. Rather, we found that a significant number of 

Liberian men and women alike testify that the rape law is being manipulated by litigants of both genders to achieve other 

ends. Thus, for example, in some cases in which interviewees 

described rape accusations, the originators of those accusations were identified as men (usually disgruntled fathers or 

spouses) rather than women. Some of these cases were actually described as false accusations—such as the following one 

that involved a jealous boyfriend who accused his girlfriend’s 

lover of rape:

A girl came on a talent show we had on our campus here. Later on she was taken home by one of 

her boy friends. But she came with a fellow here. 

She went with this guy and slept with him; the 

both of them had been loving before. The fellow 

that brought her checked for her but couldn’t find 

her. The next day he saw her and asked as to where 

she slept, she explained where she slept and when 

they went there they raised a case that the girl was 

a virgin and didn’t know about life so they had to 

take the fellow she slept with to the police station 

with the case that he raped her.

Male adults in Grand Gedeh

In other cases, accusations appeared to be driven by 

interests and concerns that were not necessarily those of the 

alleged victim: 

It was one day, sometimes ago that a girl’s parents 

asked her where she spent the night and she 

wouldn’t talk even though she was asked over and 

over. Now, when her father who had left for town 

came back, he was told how his daughter had slept 

out and wouldn’t say where she slept though asked 

repeatedly. So, the father asked his daughter to 

show him where she slept or else he would beat 

her. She wouldn’t. So, he started to beat her, after 

the beating started she told him that she slept at 

that boy’s place. When the girl said this, her 

grandmother decided to take the case to the town 

chief. When the case reached the chief, that boy’s 

brother decided to stand as surety [bond] for him, 

as his grandmother was not there. The one who 

stood as surety then went and explained what 

transpired to that boy’s grandmother. Upon hearing the case, the grandmother took some family 

members and when to appeal to the girl’s family 

to have the case resolved at the home. But, the 

girl’s father refused and said he was going to see 

the case to the end. While the family was still 

appealing, the girl’s father came to get the police 

involved. He told the police that the boy raped his 

daughter, but the daughter said that it was not 

rape, but she and that boy were lovers. When the 

girl explained this, the father said he was not listening to that and the boy was put in jail.

Female adult in Lofa
Part II: Research Findings 69

Another set of concerns about the rape law raised by many 

interviewees relates to that law’s definition of rape and the 

prescribed sanctions. In contrast to the rape law that grants 

comparable moral equivalence (and legal gravity) to a broad 

range of acts, most Liberians reserve the term “rape” for only 

a limited subset of the most extreme of those acts, and nuance 

the rest of that continuum as a set of infractions of very different levels of social gravity and that should invite very different forms of social and legal repair. At the one end of this 

continuum are the gravest situations of violent sexual assault 

by strangers and/or in particular on minors in which the local 

emphasis skews hard toward harsh punitive measures. Even in 

such cases, however, reconciliation may remain a concern, as 

the following statement attests: 

In town there was a little boy about sixteen years 

old who used to sleep at his friend’s place. The 

friend had a five years old sister in the house. One 

night when they were sleeping, he woke up from 

the bed and went to the little girl and raped her. 

Early in the morning he went to his house in 

Zwedru. The little girl was crying when she 

wanted to “pee-pee” [urinate]. She continued to 

cry. Her mother asked her what happened and 

that she never used to behave like that. She refused 

to talk but after she was asked many times, she 

finally said that it was the boy who slept there that 

night raped her. When the girl’s brother was 

asked, he said that he was sleeping and didn’t 

observe anything. They went to the boy’s family 

but his family said that they should talk it a family 

way. [Ultimately] the case just left in the town like 

that and they talked it a family way. The father of 

the girl was vexed and wanted to bring the case to 

Monrovia but they begged him.

Female youth in Grand Gedeh 

At the other end of the spectrum, most Liberian men and 

women that we interviewed seemed highly skeptical of the 

idea that forcibly imposed sex by a spouse should be viewed as 

the same type of problem:

What our brother and most people in the interior 

consider as rape is when you see the woman in the 

bush and you jump on her forcibly and have sex 

with her or if you burglarize her home and force 

her into unwanted sex, that’s rape. We are getting 

to understand that you can rape your own wife. 

Sometimes if you don’t entertain her properly, she 

can refuse you. What would be the result of the 

law if I beg my wife and she says no?

Male elders in Lofa 

We understand rape to be when any man who is 

not your man forces you and have you. That is 

what we call rape. . . . OK, the one that I know 

even my husband when I am married, but if my 

husband asked me for sex and I don’t want to have 

sex that day and I gave excuse and say I am tired 

and he force me I have all right to take him to 

court for raping me? Female elders in Lofa

Along the continuum, the data we collected indicates that, 

as with other types of cases, in the resolution of most types of 

rape most rural Liberians continue to emphasize restorative 

and socially reconciliatory objectives as more important than 

punitive ones. The objective of reconciliation remains particularly important in a context in which the kinship relations that 

are so vital to all aspects of subsistence and social order itself 

are likely to socially link perpetrators and victims and their 

families. As one member of a female focus group states:

With rape cases in this county, especially [this] 

district, it is very hard to go out, I mean to go to 

court. The victim’s parents are very hard to go to 

court. Because it is like my son, you know me very 

well and my son rapes your daughter. After the 

news comes out that your son has raped my 

daughter, the family will come in and beg. So it is 

very hard for them to go to court. Because you are 

my uncle, I won’t carry you to court for the case: 

but actually they don’t know the effects. This is 

because of the culture: it plays on us. So, it is very 

hard for them to go court. Most of the rape cases 

can die down here. And even if they are carried to 

court, nothing happens. Like when some people 

take it very hard and go to court. They carried 

them to the [county seat]. When they get there it 

will just die down. Female elders in Lofa 

Similarly, it is only when one recognizes that the objective 

of addressing the condition of the victim—at least to some 
70 Looking for Justice

extent and in some fashion—is paramount (as opposed to 

punishing the perpetrator) that the demands of the following 

rape victim’s family seem to make any rational sense:

The old man told her that since she was a student, 

she should go to him so that he could teach or 

tutor her in her lessons at night. She asked him 

why it had to be at night but the “Papay” said that 

she should just go to his house. She went to his 

house and he told her, “Since you have come to me, 

I want to tell you that I did not want to teach you, 

but wanted to see you for something else.” While 

the girl was sitting, he forced her and raped her. 

She went home crying. Her mother asked her 

what was happening but she said that nothing was 

happening. When day broke, they asked her again, 

and she began to tell them what happened. When 

the old man was called and asked, he said that it 

was a mistake and that he was sorry. The girl’s 

family said that it couldn’t just stay that way; 

rather, he should be taking the girl to the hospital 

where she will be receiving treatments. His 

response was that he didn’t have money but he 

could only be helping to carry her to the hospital 

every morning. 

Female youth in Grand Gedeh 

As with other types of cases, Liberians are critical of the 

formal system when it focuses narrowly on a rape perpetrator’s 

singular criminal act (or even just merely on an accusation’s 

face value), and does not plumb what is regarded as a “deeper 

truth of the matter,” which may well involve social actors other 

than the perpetrator and victim and a series of other social 

contingencies viewed as relevant contributing factors.

Rape and the customary justice system

The fairly broad skepticism about the formal system’s 

approach and capacity to address the crime of rape and about 

the way in which the rape law is being used raises the important question of whether customary justice institutions 

are viewed by Liberian men and women as offering a better 

alternative. 

Although we believe further empirical work on this specific question is merited, we currently draw the following 

conclusions from the data that we do have. First, we found 

no evidence of a belief—among men or women—that when 

chiefs do intervene to resolve these cases they are doing so in 

ways viewed as unjust or, more specifically, in ways that are 

dissatisfying to women. As already noted, dissatisfaction with 

the resolution of such cases and an interest in pursuing them 

through the more acrimonious and punitive process afforded 

by the formal system does not seem to be dictated so much 

by gender, as by a variety of other interests which can and do 

equally inform the behavior of men as of women. 

Second, the lack of any explicit statements of dissatisfaction about how chiefs (or family representatives) resolve rape 

cases, stands in rather marked contrast to the very vociferous and quite explicit statements of dissatisfaction with the 

outcomes for rape cases produced by the formal system that 

were quite readily forthcoming from both many of the men 

and women that we interviewed. At the very least, this seems 

to indicate far less dissatisfaction with customary means for 

resolving of this type of case when compared to the formal 

alternative as actually experienced and practiced. Our findings do not indicate gender differentiation in this perception, 

despite probing for it.

Third, the fact that a fair number of chiefs indicated that 

they are still solicited by their constituents to adjudicate such 

cases (despite being prohibited from doing so)—and will 

generally only do so if both parties insist on it—reinforces 

our conclusion that there is a general preference for resolving 

these cases through customary mechanisms and according to 

customary principles. In summary, while our own evidence is 

insufficient to warrant any claim that there is widespread (or 

for that matter gender-differentiated) satisfaction with how 

customary mechanisms resolve rape cases, it does indicate that 

among the de facto available alternatives, customary forms of 

resolution are probably preferred and viewed as producing less 

dissatisfying outcomes by both men and women.

This greater degree of satisfaction (or at least a lesser degree of dissatisfaction) with customary mechanisms for dealing with rape may partially reflect greater local confidence in 

the overall effectiveness and enforcement capacity of customary (as opposed to state) mechanisms. However, our data also 

indicates that, just as with other types of cases, this preference 

may also be driven by the fact that customary mechanisms 

for dealing with rape realize fundamental assumptions that 

most Liberians have about what justice should entail in ways 

that formal court alternatives in general and the rape law in 

particular do not. As discussed earlier, for most kinds of rape, 

most Liberians want to see restorative solutions that take into 

account broader social or group interests. 
Part II: Research Findings 71

While we did not collect extensive cases about how the resolution of rape cases by customary authorities is viewed by most 

Liberians, our interviews with these authorities do suggest that 

it is a mistake to assume that they are sidelining the issue of rape 

because it is a “women’s issue”—in large part, precisely because 

they do not regard it as only a woman’s issue. To the extent that 

the interests of extended families, spouses, and community relations are viewed as relevant and at stake, this ensures at the 

very least that chiefs remain willing to deal with these issues—

even if for certain reasons they were to dismiss “women’s issues” 

as less relevant. However, this observation raises another set of 

very important questions that in our view merit extensive and 

carefully crafted additional empirical research: 

1. Exactly what is the typical balance that customary 

mechanisms tend to strike between the individual victims’ abstract rights, their specific (restorative) interests, 

and other social interests (intrafamilial harmony, community harmony, the interests and stakes of other social 

actors etc.).

2. What is the view of women—particularly those who 

suffer from rape—about those balances as they are typically struck? How do they compare those balances to the 

outcomes the formal system offers in practice? What do 

they view as the ideal balance to be struck? 

On the first question, it is clear that customary mechanisms—whether intrafamilial resolution or chiefs—do consider a broader set of social interests and factors than those of 

the victim alone. More focused research is needed on exactly 

what those balances typically are. A weighing of the disadvantages and advantages of allowing these interests to impinge on 

the resolution of these cases requires careful contextualization 

that should give particular emphasis to women’s assessment of 

the balances that are being struck. Thus, despite the fact that 

we did not identify any trend of women complaining about 

such balances, it could well be that a more focused investigation would unearth complaints that would dovetail with the 

suspicions of many that women’s interests are being subordinated or sidelined in customary deliberations. 

Speaking to the second set of these questions, our data 

casts some doubt on assumptions that the rape law strikes a 

balance that local Liberian women believe to be the right one 

that will realize a sense of justice for rape victims. In the reality of the rural Liberian context, taking into account available 

alternatives, a greater emphasis on social reconciliation and 

restoration may prove to be quite rational calculations. We 

discuss this and how it may impact on policy options later in 

this report.

Uniformity versus Duality

Very similar intentions to banish the past injustices of a colonial caste system as embodied in the historical duality of Liberia’s legal framework and institutions appear to be motivating many rule of law reformers in Liberia and also informing 

how local populations outside of Monrovia are responding to 

these reform efforts. However, somewhat paradoxically, these 

same intentions may also be driving these two groups in diametrically opposite directions in terms of the legal framework 

and institutions they each prefer to see developed in Liberia. 

In Monrovia, among many national policymakers and their 

international counterparts, 

the assumption is that the 

key to rule of law in Liberia 

is to enshrine the principle 

of uniformity—that is, to 

extend a single set of laws 

to Liberia as a whole and 

to provide a singular legal 

system and framework that 

works the same way everywhere for everybody—in 

order to set all Liberians on 

equal legal footing before 

the law and its institutions. 

Such sentiments are given 

life through efforts such as those to once and for all do away 

with the Hinterland Regulations and—in some quarters—to 

move as quickly as possible toward replacing customary justice institutions altogether with formal courts. 

However, our research clearly shows that most rural Liberians are decidedly unenthusiastic—and in some cases emphatic or even virulent in their opposition—to such efforts 

because they are seen as (yet another) effort to extend the 

power and domination of a Monrovian elite and (legal) culture. Our research finds that without rejecting the ultimate 

authority of the state or even a local role for the formal justice 

system, rural Liberians consistently reject the proposition that 

the “laws (and institutions) of Monrovia”—or of the international community—should be allowed to supplant and override their customary ones:

Most rural Liberians 

are decidedly 

unenthusiastic—and in 

some cases emphatic 

or even virulent in their 

opposition—to such 

efforts because they are 

seen as (yet another) 

effort to extend the 

power and domination 

of a Monrovian elite and 

(legal) culture.
72 Looking for Justice

[I prefer the] traditional method because even 

when you are hurt they have the traditional leader 

that will talk with you, invite you. In fact you then 

come to your senses, even they will send people to 

counsel you instead of the system the white people 

had brought. Because, we should not forgo our 

culture because we are African. 

Adult male in Nimba

The human rights law was imported from United 

States of America and Europe and they understand it so that their ways of life is theirs and not 

ours. So what I want to recommend to the government of Liberia is we want our old system practiced by our forefather to be with us.

Male zoe in Nimba 

We conclude from our research that the vision of “rule of 

law” of most Liberians who live outside of Monrovia might 

be described as far more “federalist” or even “localist” in its 

emphasis on maximizing the rights of local communities to 

determine the principles and means by which justice is achieved 

and delivered. Indeed, the only “uniformity” that local populations seem eager to see enshrined in national frameworks and 

policies is the uniform protection of local prerogatives that 

give rise to diversity at the level of specific laws, institutions, 

and procedures. This is a vision that is endowed with much 

less specific law content than the far more detailed framework 

that seems to be sought by most national and international 

rule of law policymakers in Monrovia.
 73

6

How do most Liberians assess their options and seek redress 

given the prevalent perceptions of customary and formal justice institutions that we have just described? Liberians will 

weigh the factors of cost, accessibility, potential bias, and desired outcome in choosing their forum. For most Liberians, 

this calculation can only lead to the customary system, which 

provides the most (perhaps only) accessible and affordable, and 

potentially fairer option. Throughout rural Liberia customary 

systems are thus the far more typical and preferred choice (for 

an analysis of forum use by subgroup, see figure 4).

The Oxford CSAE survey collected detailed householdand community-level information on respondents’ lived experience of a wide range of crimes and conflicts, including 

assault, sexual violence, murder, and theft, as well as disputes 

involving land, debt, property, and family. Respondents provided details of each incident, including the forums visited, 

the time and costs incurred, and details of the judgment, including reported subjective satisfaction. 

Tables 8 and 9 summarize where respondents typically 

took their disputes to be resolved. “Formal forum” included 

police officers, magistrates, JPs, and any government official 

including the district commissioner and the county superintendent. “Informal forum” included all other third parties, including family heads, traditional leaders, elders, secret society 

members, soothsayers, midwives, the full hierarchy of chiefs, 

and any other local influential individuals.

A striking finding is that the majority of disputes (57 percent) reported to our survey team were not taken to any third 

party for resolution; these include half the reported instances 

of rape/sexual abuse, murder, assault, and domestic violence, 

one-third of reported land disputes, four-fifths of reported 

theft, and two-thirds of the reported disputes over property 

and labor. Further analysis will show how many of these cases 

were resolved between the two parties on their own. When 

Liberians chose to take a dispute to a third party, they overwhelmingly chose the customary justice system. The only cases reported to the formal system in significant numbers were 

murder and rape—crimes that traditional leaders acknowledge 

are usually “too big” for them—yet even these were taken with 

equal frequency to the formal and informal systems.

However, the data also reveals a number of patterns that 

are exceptions to this general rule, and where the formal system is preferred. These include both rather straightforward 

reasons, and a set based on a more complex social calculus. Of 

the first variety, most Liberians believe that state institutions 

should be the natural next step, when the chain of referral of 

customary authorities has been exhausted without satisfactory 

resolution—though they are frustrated that it rarely, if ever, 

provides them with satisfactory justice when such referrals occur. Moreover, as discussed earlier, Liberians generally believe 

that crimes that rise to a certain level of seriousness (putting 

aside the regulation prohibiting customary authorities from 

dealing with such cases), or that involve strangers to the community, should be dealt with by the formal justice system. 

Our research suggests that Liberians also seek to avail 

themselves of formal justice institutions when they perceive 

that customary justice institutions are themselves partisans in 

a case and thus incapable of providing fair resolution. Such 

cases include situations in which customary authorities are 

themselves implicated and situations of interethnic conflict, 

in which the very cultural basis from which local customary 

justice institutions and officials derive their authority is a contributing factor to the problem in question. Thus, for example, 

we collected information on a series of cases (including land 

disputes, theft, witchcraft accusations, and even murder) in 

Lofa and Nimba whose source traces to clashes between (so 

far) mutually exclusive tenets of the Poro society and community members who profess faith in either Islam or Pentecostal 

Christianity.

However, for the (now growing) minority of Liberians 

for whom formal court options are accessible, the social calculus of justice is likely to be somewhat different and rather 

more complex. Our interviews reveal that direct referral to the 

formal court system is most likely to occur when individuals believe they can gain an advantage over the other party 

by exploiting the already discussed factors believed to govern 

that system (personal power or social connections; money/

bribery). Numerous examples are provided throughout our 

an assessment of liberians’ quest

for justice
74 Looking for Justice

Figure 4: Forum Use by Subgroups of Population

NOTE: The vertical axis shows the percentage of total cases within a given subgroup of the population that are taken to the forum 

in question (for instance, percent of disputes in female-headed households that are taken to the formal sector). The three bars for 

each subgroup sum to 100 percent. 

The subgroups shown are:

■ “Household member is a local influential?” The population of households is split into those that reported a member of the 

household to be a local influential or person in position of authority, and those that did not.

■ “Household member injured in war?” The population of households is split into those that reported a member being injured 

during the war and those that did not.

■ “Sex of the household head.” Self-explanatory.

■ “Age of household head.” The population of households is split into those with heads that were thirty years old or less, and those 

with heads that were over thirty. 

SOURCE: Based on preliminary data from an ongoing Oxford CSAE study, “Community-Based Justice and the Rule of Law in 

Liberia.” Details of the study are provided in the appendix.
Part II: Research Findings 75

interviews where the choice to move directly—or eventually—into the formal justice system was perceived to have occurred because one party had an opportunity to influence the 

outcome through the aforementioned means. Notably these 

opportunities are not only suspected by the “losers” in such 

cases, but also often admitted by those who describe their own 

strategizing in a case! 

There are also a fair number of cases where referral to the 

formal courts—or the threat of referral—is recounted as a tactic used either to advance contentious social agendas, for retaliatory purposes, or for gaining leverage in other matters that 

have nothing to do with the actual case in question. Thus, for 

example, this practice of “making the case big” was mentioned 

in a number of our interviews in relation to recently passed 

laws such as the rape law. In the opinion of one woman from 

Sanniquellie: “The new rape bill should be revisited because 

there are people here who are using it to attack one another.” 

In this twisted sense, to many Liberians, the formal justice system is seen as not only incapable of providing satisfactory justice but also as one of the most effective mechanisms 

through which certain social actors are able to perpetrate injustice in service to their own interests.

Many Liberians also seek to mobilize extralegal mechanisms from outside the formal or customary justice systems 

altogether, to influence justice proceedings. For many, theirs is 

an effort to identify someone they believe can effectively exert 

power over their opponent in order to achieve a partial outcome on their behalf—and to use money or social connections 

to activate that power for their benefit. For many others theirs 

is an effort to monitor and prepare for (or even preempt) the 

possibility that their adversary in a case will manipulate social 

connections and use money to subvert justice—by making 

sure they can do the same only with greater ultimate effect. 

Thus, quite often the strategies that Liberians formulate to 

counteract real or perceived biases do not strive to reestablish 

“truly just” procedures as most Liberians would define them. 

Table 8: Forum Usage for Civil Disputes

percent of all cases taken to

Dispute Number of cases No forum Informal forum Formal forum

Bribery/corruption 14 57 29 14

Debt dispute 1,497 67 31 2

Family/marital dispute 788 58 41 1

Child custody 21 62 38 0

Child/wife neglect 181 59 41 0

Divorce/separation 131 34 61 5

Other 455 64 35 1

Labor dispute 157 65 34 1

Land dispute 430 32 60 8

Property dispute 68 53 37 10

Witchcraft 227 56 41 4

Total 3,181 59 38 3

Table 9: Forum Usage for Criminal Disputes

percent of all cases taken to

Crime Number of cases No forum Informal forum Formal forum

Assault 600 52 44 3

Domestic violence 974 53 46 1

Murder 97 53 23 25

Property destruction 548 78 18 4

Rape/sexual abuse 113 50 28 21

Theft 1,420 78 19 3

Other crime 303 55 42 3

Total 1,877 53 45 2
76 Looking for Justice

Figure 5: The Quest for Justice

The diagrams to the right illustrate the 

complex calculations that go into Liberians’ 

determinations of where to pursue 

justice. The diagram at the top presents 

the dual justice system, suggesting that 

Liberians look at the state and customary 

courts as the two options for them to 

choose between and follow through their 

respective hierarchies.

The middle diagram illustrates that from 

the perspective of rural Liberians, there 

are in fact many more potential avenues 

of dispute resolution than the formal 

courts or state-sponsored chiefs courts. 

Thus, a range of community-based actors 

including family members and elders, 

secret societies, religious leaders, and 

business associations are all potential 

justice providers. Likewise, a different set 

of actors who are not officially affiliated 

with any justice mechanism are also seen 

as potential arbiters due to their power, 

wealth, or influence.

The bottom diagram suggests how 

Liberians choose among the pool of 

potential justice providers by weighing 

the potential of advantage from each 

individual due to factors such as power, 

social relations, access, and resources. 

The specific manifestations of these 

factors include membership in secret 

societies or the UBF (Masons), availability 

of money to pay costs, family and 

community relationships, social and 

religious beliefs, etc. 
Part II: Research Findings 77

Rather, when confronting bias, Liberians are likely to try to 

secure influence that will ensure that partiality still prevails—

only in one’s own favor and against other parties. 

Increasingly, Liberians decide how they will pursue justice, based on a careful assessment of their own position (relative to that of other interested parties) within a single pool of 

institutional power—as embodied in particular persons (see 

figure 5). This single pool includes both customary and formal 

justice institutions—and notably we should also reiterate that 

our interviews clearly and consistently show that the actors 

in that “power pool” whose involvement is ultimately sought 

(or who choose to intervene) in the resolution of even serious criminal cases do not necessarily have established roles in 

either state-backed or customary justice institutions. This is 

particularly the case when it comes to state officials who have 

no legal role in the statutory system, be they superintendents, 

national legislators, deputy ministers, immigration officers, or 

diplomatic bodyguards.

This tendency to seek out the intervention of the highest established authority figure available or to which one has 

access in order to resolve the question at hand—even if it is 

strictly speaking a justice issue, and the authority is strictly 

speaking not part of the justice system—may also be derived 

from the lack of a clear distinction between judicial and other 

governance roles in the minds of most Liberians. This sensibility has been fostered by the country’s very long history 

of intervention in all manner of local cases—formal and informal—by government authorities who were not part of the 

judicial system. Most famously this was a well-documented 

practice by a succession of Liberia’s own presidents, who for 

political purposes often embraced and fully played to the 

chiefly role—and thus to local expectations that unitary authority was legitimate. 

The expectations established by this history are still very 

much alive and being continuously realized and reinforced 

today (albeit not to our knowledge by the president herself). 

This is revealed in our research both by the frequency with 

which respondents appealed to the Liberian president to step 

in to resolve local justice problems directly, and by the ample 

evidence we have collected of frequent interventions in formal 

court proceedings (and some customary ones) by all manner of 

authorities (including senators, 

customs inspectors, prominent 

businessmen) who technically 

are supposed to have no say nor 

exercise any influence in criminal or civil judicial processes.

Finally, as discussed previously, the limitations set by the 

state on the customary justice 

system have served to undermine that system and close off 

options for peaceful resolution 

of cases of great importance to many Liberians. Liberian 

frustration with the perceived pervasive “injustice of justice” 

—particularly when the formal system is involved (or because 

it constrains the scope of customary institutions)—affects 

how more and more people are weighing the advisability of 

pursuing extreme extralegal recourse options. Thus, the state’s 

efforts to protect its exclusive purview over certain types of 

cases may ironically be producing higher levels of social frustration and lowering the threshold for extralegal violence precisely to the extent that such safeguarding is successful, for 

the very simple reason that these cases— including even the 

most serious crimes—are not being resolved in a satisfactory 

or timely manner, or simply at all. To wit, the conclusions of 

the brother of a murder victim whose inability to pay fees that 

would advance the case through the (statutory) courts led him 

to plan to “take justice into our hands. We will take some boys 

and kill the perpetrator.”

Consequently, throughout much of the country, there is a 

very palpable sense of mounting insecurity and dissatisfaction 

within local communities. Various forms of crime, social conflict, and acrimony are perceived to be flourishing, unchecked 

by either the debilitated and discredited formal court system, 

or by customary institutions perceived to have been hobbled 

by government policies that undermine their effectiveness. 

Our research reveals that these perceptions underwrite both a 

rising tide of frustration with the Liberian government, and a 

growing willingness to seek extralegal solutions (such as mob 

justice, personal revenge) that conform to neither state nor socially sanctioned criteria of justice. 

Liberian frustration 

with the perceived 

pervasive “injustice of 

justice” . . . affects how 

more and more people 

are weighing the 

advisability of pursuing 

extreme extralegal 

recourse options. 

 79

I

Introduction [ [ II Research Findings III Conclusion

 81

This study aims to provide the Liberian government and 

other stakeholders with more robust evidence than has hitherto been available about how both formal and customary 

justice systems are perceived and utilized by rural Liberians. 

Our approach has been guided by the conviction that in order to succeed, policies for cultivating rule of law need to be 

far better informed about current practices and social understandings of justice at the grassroots level throughout Liberia. 

The empirical evidence base we have developed through this 

project’s field research can make policymakers more cognizant of the complex social realities that mediate the effects of 

their policies and allow them to account for these in policy 

development. 

In this final section of our report, we outline some of the 

key implications of our research findings for different strategic policy options. Our intention is to demonstrate how the 

outcomes of different policy options are likely to be affected 

by the Liberian social realities we have studied. We do not 

provide any definitive prescriptions. In our view adjudication 

among different policy options is not a task for which empirical research is equipped for the simple reason that policy 

prescriptions are in first instance the result of value-based 

judgments about what the correct balance of social priorities 

and mores should be. This is ultimately a political act rather 

than a scientific one. However, by sharpening understanding 

of the likely consequences of different policy paths, we allow 

policymakers to more realistically assess the impact of different options on the balances they strive to maintain among 

different values and objectives. 

Analyzing the Impact of Policy Options: 

A Framework

The framework we develop below provides a mechanism for 

using our research findings to examine how key aspects of 

local Liberian reality are likely to influence how, and if, any 

particular justice reform option realizes (or conversely undermines) several policy objectives that are widely recognized to 

be vital to Liberia’s postwar future. In describing this framework, we first specify those vital objectives and then specify 

the mediating aspects of Liberian social reality whose effects 

our findings allow us to analyze. 

Vital objectives that must be accounted for in 

justice reform policy

In our view there are at least four vital objectives for Liberia in 

its continuous effort to put its history of conflict firmly in the 

past. They are developing a functioning justice system, developing a legitimate state capable of managing a range of tensions, promoting international standards and human rights, 

and managing competing political demands.

Justice objectives. The narrowest objectives of justice reform 

policy are those that deal specifically with the delivery of justice. Such objectives include

■ Maintaining law and order. Among the primary functions of a justice system are to ensure that disputes are 

resolved without resort to violence, and to bring criminal 

behavior under control. 

■ Satisfying local demands for justice. As we have discussed 

throughout this report, local satisfaction (or lack thereof) 

is a function of several factors, including access and 

affordability, the use of locally preferred principles in case 

resolution and redress, and effective enforcement.

■ Cultivating the legitimacy of justice institutions. This 

involves enhancing the local legitimacy of the formal 

justice system, although to the extent that the customary 

system is granted certain jurisdiction, this objective 

would also apply to fostering local legitimacy for the 

customary system in these assigned functions.

Post-conflict governance and peacebuilding objectives. In 

a post-conflict country such as Liberia, justice reform policies 

must, in our view, remain attentive to a range of governance 

and peacebuilding concerns that extend beyond the narrower 

confines of the justice system itself. For the most part, these 

concerns are related to the challenges of consolidating a hardwon peace and strengthening a fledgling democratic political 

policy implications
82 Looking for Justice

Figure 6: An Analytical Framework

The Liberian realities (triangular shaded area above) impact how and if policies achieve the series of four vital objectives 

below. For each of those, the question needs to be asked: how can these four broad objectives be reached given the 

current capacity of the formal system, the current capacity of the customary system, and the current Liberian conception 

of justice? If policy options fail to address these issues, they have a high risk of not achieving these objectives.
Part III: Conclusion 83

process. Objectives in this category include

■ mitigating intrasocietal tensions that could undermine 

peace and reignite conflict.

■ enhancing the local legitimacy of the state as a whole and 

of its institutions locally.

■ promoting good governance practices by state institutions, including through greater transparency and 

accountability, and diminishing corruption. 

Promoting international standards and human rights objectives. The international standards and human rights objectives that justice reform efforts will be required to pay attention to include

■ eliminating practices judged as onerous, harmful, and in 

violation of basic individual rights (e.g., TBO).

■ eliminating discriminatory practices against social groups 

(most notably women, but also ethnic, religious, and 

other minorities). 

■ complying with international rule of law and human 

rights standards.

Political objectives. Last but not least, objectives in this category are arguably those to which most policymakers remain 

most attentive and responsive in all arenas of policymaking 

(not just justice reform). These include

■ defending the priorities, agendas, and authority of competing ministries and other organs of the government of 

Liberia.

■ responding to the priorities and pressures brought to bear 

by the international community. In the case of justice 

reform, this most notably involves the priorities of donors 

and agencies involved in rule of law and human rights 

programming.

We should note that our subsequent analysis does not assess the effects of different policy options on this last category 

of political objectives. There are two primary reasons for this: 

(1) neither intragovernmental political dynamics nor the international community’s priority determination process were 

subjects of our field research; and (2) these objectives are 

likely to be almost reflexively attended to by our target audience (policymakers and practitioners) anyway. However, our 

exclusion of these political objectives in our analysis should 

not be taken to mean that we regard these political objectives 

as unimportant or less likely to drive policymaking. 

Three outcome-mediating aspects of the local 

Liberian reality

The primary value of our research findings is that they provide an empirical basis for assessing how three aspects of 

Liberian reality—currently poorly understood by most policymakers—influence whether justice reform policies and 

strategies realize the aforementioned objectives. These three 

aspects are

1. Liberians’ own culturally informed and socially differentiated beliefs about justice;

2. the capacity and grassroots legitimacy of the customary 

justice institutions;

3. the capacity and grassroots legitimacy of formal justice 

institutions, in particular at the local level.

As graphically represented in figure 6, our analytical 

framework seeks to identify the mediating effects of these 

three aspects of Liberian reality on any particular policy option, and to assess what those mediating effects are likely to 

imply for the realization of the four outlined primary policy 

objectives.

Strategic Policy Options

In applying our framework to a range of policy options, we 

focus here on two strategic questions regarding the relationship between the formal and customary justice systems. These 

are by no means the only strategic questions, but our analysis 

might serve as a model for application to additional policy 

options. 

1. What should be the respective jurisdiction and scope of 

authority of the formal and customary justice systems?

2. What should be the key objectives and principles that 

guide the resolution of justice?

We note that the government of Liberia has made clear 

that it intends to strengthen the justice system in Liberia and 

bring it into conformity with international standards. It is not 

our intent to question that goal. Our analysis seeks simply to 

shed some new light on what the costs of different courses 

of policy action may be, and whether current policies that at 

face value aim to achieve those stated objectives are actually 
84 Looking for Justice

doing so (or paradoxically actually undermining progress in 

that direction).

Jurisdiction/scope of authority

The options for assigning jurisdiction range along a continuum, which is represented in figure 7. 

Putting aside the improbable scenarios implied at the left 

hand of this continuum (which would involve the elimination of the formal system), the strategic options for allocating 

jurisdictional division of labor range across three scenarios. 

Scenario A roughly represents the status quo before the civil 

war, in which customary chiefs report they were the first 

line of justice for virtually all forms of offense. Scenario B 

roughly represents current policy in which customary authorities are granted jurisdiction over a much narrower range 

of cases, excluding all violence that draws blood, major theft, 

rape, and murder. Finally, scenario C would represent a system in which customary forums played no role in a justice 

system. We choose to represent these jurisdictional options 

as a continuum rather than as distinct categories because 

a continuum allows for more nuanced consideration of points 

of practice that might be conceived of between those we 

have identified. 

It is important to note that this continuum is oversimplified, since it ignores the fact that current policy permits some 

cases to be taken to either customary justice forums or formal 

courts. This introduces another dimension to our options that 

involves overlap and various options for institutionalizing the 

opportunity for forum shopping.

What then are the implications of pursuing different jurisdictional division of labor options? More specifically, what 

do our findings say about how local Liberian realities are 

likely to mediate the effects of different policy options on 

the realization of the specific strategic objectives we identified previously? 

Strategic Option A: The Policy Implications

of Staying the Course

The status quo provides the logical point of departure for 

this comparative analysis. Perhaps the local factor that most 

significantly mediates the effect of current jurisdictional division of labor policy is the sheer lack of local capacity of 

the formal justice system. This term “capacity” encompasses 

both the quantitative insufficiencies we have highlighted 

(e.g., numbers of courts, number of qualified justice officials), 

which render the formal system largely inaccessible to many 

Liberians; as well as the many grave qualitative deficiencies 

that we have discussed (e.g., costs, lack of transparency, slowness) all of which conspire to render its services highly unsatisfactory to most Liberians. Our findings raise significant 

Figure 7: The Jurisdiction Division of Labor—Option Continuum
Part III: Conclusion 85

concerns about the unintended effects for most of Liberia’s 

key strategic objectives that result from current policies regarding jurisdiction and scope of authority.

Justice objectives

It seems clear that the restriction of the jurisdiction of customary authorities without a strengthening of the grassroots 

capacity, performance, and availability of formal institutional 

alternatives, is creating a justice vacuum at the local level that 

is increasing, rather than reducing, the unmet demand for justice. The local perception is most certainly not one of decreasing lawlessness, but to the contrary, that criminality is on the 

rise, and remains unchecked. This is in part because of state 

justice policies themselves that effectively create a vacuum; 

and in the extreme, injustice is viewed as being enabled and 

perpetrated through the formal justice system itself.

Our data suggests that to the extent that local Liberians 

view the formal system as less comprehensible and more susceptible to corrupt influence than customary alternatives, the 

limitation of the customary courts’ jurisdiction is seen as actually diminishing the degree of transparency, accountability, 

and integrity of local justice. The perceived susceptibility of local formal courts to undue influence and the widespread conviction that they provide particularly effective mechanisms for 

the powerful and connected to perpetrate injustice is simultaneously undermining the legitimacy of the formal justice 

system and the authority and effectiveness of the customary 

systems alike. Increasingly, Liberians seem to approach justice 

by seeking forms of “advantage”—if only to preempt the 

other party who is believed likely to seek to exploit the system 

in any way he or she can. This dynamic is thus contributing 

to an expansion of the local justice vacuum by also undermining the authority of customary justice authorities even in the 

more restricted domains of jurisdiction to which they have 

been confined under current policy. 

Governance and peacebuilding

The justice vacuum described above underwrites a sense of 

rising insecurity and mounting dissatisfaction with a state 

whose institutions appear to most as incapable of coping with 

the challenges of local justice. Such perceptions do not bode 

well for key post-conflict governance objectives of enhancing 

the overall legitimacy of the state, or of mitigating intrasocietal tensions. 

Expanding further on this latter point: as it currently 

operates the limitation of the customary system at the local 

level is seen as accentuating local social tensions because of 

the enforcement failures of the formal system and paradoxically also because of the nature of its enforcement “successes.” 

Thus, while lack of redress through the formal system is a 

frequent complaint, no less so is recrimination against the socially divisive effects of its focus on punishment and its failure 

to attend to the restorative and socially conciliatory priorities 

that inform local notions of what justice should do.

International standards and human rights

Finally, we consider whether the current jurisdictional division of labor between customary and formal justice is in actual 

practice promoting international standards and human rights 

objectives. Our findings are not encouraging. Generally speaking, many human rights initiatives appear to local Liberians as 

absurdly myopic in their narrow focus (e.g., defendant’s rights, 

children’s rights), to the detriment of ramifying effects and 

with disregard for any balance among a broader array of local concerns, conceptions of justice, and socioeconomic realities. Backed by the coercive force of the formal system, “human rights” in this vein is becoming a dirty word to a broad 

spectrum of local Liberians, viewed by a growing number as 

complicit in the aggravation of social tensions and the perpetration of injustice. More specifically, we examine the impact 

of the current status quo on particularly “high profile” human 

rights concerns: trial by ordeal and rape. 

With regard to TBO, the prohibition against its use may 

be inhibiting its practice by chiefs (or at least the extent to 

which they acknowledge using it), but this prohibition is 

not in any way discrediting the practice itself, much less its 

epistemological hold on the local Liberian mindset. Indeed, 

the robustness of this cultural mindset underwrites growing 

alarm at the perceived deleterious effects of these policies (i.e., 

the proliferation of witches), which are blamed increasingly 

on the state and which even fuel politically troublesome conspiracy theories about why state actors would promote these 

policies in the first place. As we have said, there is also evidence that these policies may simply be driving the practice 

into more secretive performance that further legitimizes other 

customary practitioners who are entirely unregulated by the 

state (e.g., Poro masters). 

Turning to rape: is reserving the crime of rape for the formal system leading to more satisfactory rates and forms of 

resolution of this crime in the eyes of most Liberians? Our 

findings indicate that men and women alike believe that 

rapists generally get off with impunity when these cases are 
86 Looking for Justice

taken to the formal courts. From their perspective, reserving 

this crime for the formal system alone is not improving the 

plight of rape victims because it rarely reaches any resolution, 

and is often even further victimizing them by imposing fines 

and fees that are prohibitive. To the extent that customary authorities refuse to respond to the evident demand from their 

constituents to resolve this issue, those victims of rape who 

cannot afford formal justice appear to be falling prey to the 

justice vacuum. 

Our findings also raise serious questions about whether 

the rape law strikes a balance that Liberian women believe 

will realize a sense of justice for rape victims. Without reviewing the whole breadth of our prior discussion about the criteria 

most Liberians emphasize as priorities for justice, we should 

note that of the rights-oriented laws recently passed in Liberia, the rape law is arguably the one that is most punitive in 

nature and most narrowly focused on individual parties to the 

exclusion of broader social or group interests. In this sense it 

cuts most directly against the grain of the local Liberian conceptualizations of justice that we have previously described. As 

we indicate later in our discussion of the implications of allowing greater customary jurisdiction in the resolution of rape, 

the question of what constitutes a relatively more satisfactory 

resolution of this crime, and who might deliver it (customary 

or formal courts), particularly from the perspective of Liberian women, and of rape victims more specifically, is one that 

merits more focused research that is open-minded about what 

local women’s views on this question may be and that takes 

those views seriously. 

Notwithstanding the need for additional research on this 

matter, our findings at the very least raise a sobering set of 

questions about the human rights implications of maintaining a status quo that reserves rape for the exclusive jurisdiction of the formal system in its current form. These questions 

include: Are strongly punitive laws, such as the rape law, actually changing social mores and providing a real deterrent? Or 

are they merely playing into and reinforcing the undesirable 

dynamics that currently shape how outcomes are actually negotiated in the current “vacuum of justice context” that has 

been created by a combination of restrictions on the scope of 

authority of customary chiefs and the incapacity of local state 

justice institutions? Are broad popular perceptions that the 

rape law is being manipulated, and the possibility that it actually is, potentially devaluing accusations with genuine merit? 

In the foreseeable future will the formal system actually offer 

an alternative to customary mechanisms for dealing with this 

issue that is timely, affordable, and does not further victimize 

rape victims?

Ultimately, our field findings compel us to urge policymakers to assess the impact of different jurisdictional division of 

labor alternatives on strategic human rights objectives in terms 

of the de facto alternatives as they actually exist on the ground, 

and not as measured against an unrealized ideal expressed on 

paper. Here, again, the sheer incapacity of the formal system at 

the local level is the premier reality that frames any comparison of the effects of both systems on human rights.

Taking all of these points into consideration, our evidence 

points to the conclusion that in its current form of operation 

and at the current pace of internal reformation, it would be 

difficult to conclude that the expansion of the formal system’s 

local jurisdiction at the expense of customary alternatives is, in 

actual practice, promoting international standards of justice.

Strategic Option B: Ceding More

Jurisdiction to the Formal System

With respect to jurisdictional division of labor policy, we can 

confidently predict that any move to the right of our strategic 

option continuum (i.e., toward further restriction or outright 

elimination of customary justice institutions and their replacement en toto by formal courts) would most likely accentuate all 

of the tendencies we have outlined for the current status quo, at 

least absent a massive, dramatic, and rapid increase of the formal system capacity overall, most particularly at the local level. 

Strategic Option C: Ceding More

Jurisdiction to the Customary System

Any move to the left of the strategic choices continuum would 

imply some degree of reversion in the direction of the prewar 

system in which customary authorities had jurisdiction over 

more types of cases than they have now. Our analysis of the 

likely effects of a strategic policy move in this direction on 

most of Liberia’s key strategic objectives is limited here to 

rather broad strokes, with a recognition that the devil is more 

in the detail than in the generalities when it comes to predicting important impacts. 

However, at this broad level of discussion, two important 

overarching findings anchor our analysis along with our already discussed observation about the lack of capacity within 

the formal justice system. These are our findings:

1. Customary institutions are far more pervasive and readily 

accessible throughout the country, even in the most rural 

areas, than their formal alternatives;
Part III: Conclusion 87

2. For the most part, customary justice institutions garner 

considerably more local legitimacy and are regarded as 

fairer arbiters of justice than their formal alternatives. 

Again, we would reiterate that our own findings in this 

respect are strongly corroborated by the CSAE Oxford 

survey, whose independent provisional findings on this 

question have also been presented in this report. 

Our data suggest that the following impacts of a strategic 

policy move in the direction of greater devolution of jurisdiction to customary authorities.

Justice objectives

Generally speaking, most rural Liberians believe that the provision of local justice would be more satisfactory in almost 

all respects (efficiency, fairness, satisfaction of local criteria of 

justice, accessibility, affordability, relevance) and in almost all 

types of cases, even if they passed through customary forums 

only as a first line of recourse. To this observation we must 

add some important caveats, namely, that many customary 

authorities and many of their constituents alike believe that 

there is still a need for state court intervention (1) in the most 

egregious cases (although the types of cases deemed highly 

egregious are less expansive than those currently classified as 

such by the state); (2) in cases in which differences between 

customs themselves are at the root of disputes (this is particularly a concern for minority ethnic and religious groups); 

and (3) as the next level of appeal once any type of case has 

exhausted the hierarchy of customary authority. We also add 

that female perceptions of the relative advantages and disadvantages of each type of forum, in particular for the resolution of rape cases, is an area that requires additional focused 

empirical research.

Our findings also suggest that most rural Liberians believe 

that the “local justice vacuum” would be significantly diminished and criminality reduced if customary chiefs were given 

more authority to resolve more types of cases. Here we must 

add another caveat: this belief rests in part on the assumption that chiefs would be allowed to resolve cases using TBO 

methods. Yet, the relative greater effectiveness of customary 

chiefs is not believed to be a function of this alone. Indeed, 

while many Liberians believe the effectiveness of chiefs in 

dealing with at least certain types of crimes (e.g., witchcraft) 

would be diminished if they were given jurisdiction but restrained from using TBO, most still believe that criminality 

would nevertheless still be reduced for several other reasons. 

These include the greater attention chiefs pay to “root causes,” 

their capacity to bring local social pressure to bear in enforcement, and the premium placed in their resolutions on achieving reconciliation and negotiating forms of redress that mitigate (rather than aggravate) potentially dangerous forms of 

social animosity.

Governance and peacebuilding

The question of what effect some degree of devolution of jurisdiction to customary authorities might have on the legitimacy of the state and its institutions is a complicated one. On 

one hand, the extent to which customary authorities regard 

themselves, and are regarded by their constituents, as agents 

of the state, implies that the legitimacy they accrue could be 

transferred to the state that grants them authority. It is thus 

probably accurate to surmise that the state’s local legitimacy 

in the justice arena might well improve if it reassigned to customary authorities some of the jurisdiction that is currently 

the purview of the discredited formal system. However, we 

should note that this question is complicated because customary authorities do not only perform justice functions but also 

have typically been assigned other simultaneous roles in governance, including administrative ones. Hardly unique to Liberia, this multifaceted dimension of local customary authority means that this question is wrapped up in several different 

policy debates, each of which attend to different dimensions 

of governance, and which mutually impinge upon each other 

when it comes to questions of legitimacy. In short, neither 

questions about the overall legitimacy of customary authorities, nor the extent to which they implicate the legitimacy of 

the state as recognized agents of justice, can actually be considered from a justice reform perspective alone. 

Granting a greater role to customary authorities in local 

justice would likely have two effects on intrasocietal social 

tensions. On one hand, their greater emphasis on social 

reconciliation would have what most rural Liberians believe would be a desired effect that they find wanting in the 

forms of resolution afforded by the formal system. On the 

other hand, minority ethnic and religious groups do fear 

that customary authorities will dole out solutions that may 

infringe upon customs underwriten by their own social authority. In this sense such devolution would most certainly 

require mechanisms for monitoring and countering biases 

that in privileging one set of customs over another might 

well inflame some forms of intrasocietal tension, particularly ethnic and religious forms. Moreover, even within the 
88 Looking for Justice

most ethnically and religiously homogenous communities, 

customary authorities may not be well equipped to deal 

alone with cases that implicate people from outside the 

community per se. 

International standards and human rights

The unitary nature of traditional authority highlights a characteristic of customary justice that almost invariably runs afoul 

of international justice standards, which usually place strong 

emphasis on the need for judicial independence. There are 

fundamental differences between core principles that dictate 

the priorities customary authorities attend to in meting out 

justice and international human rights–based conceptions 

of justice that are difficult—and maybe even impossible—to 

fully reconcile. International standards are far more individualistic in their conceptualization of the rights that matter, particularly so in situations of violent bodily harm such as rape 

and murder. Consequently, any legal consideration of interests 

other than the most narrow ones are viewed as an unwarranted infraction on those rights. It is hard to see how such a 

view can be easily reconciled with the worldview of most rural 

Liberians, in which equal, or more, emphasis is given to group 

interests and social relations as individual rights, and in which 

the focus is on ameliorating a specific victim’s condition in a 

practical way rather than on merely penalizing someone for 

violating a principle of law. 

 Arguably, the greatest concern with some degree of devolution of jurisdiction to customary authorities is that it might 

undermine key human rights objectives, such as eliminating onerous practices (e.g., TBO), guaranteeing the rights of 

women, and preventing other forms of social discrimination. 

At a general level, our analysis has three primary things to say 

to this concern.

First, to the extent that international human rights standards are narrowly individualistic and implicitly prioritize 

individual over and above group rights and interests, which 

many Liberians and their customary authorities prioritize, it 

is indeed likely that the criteria applied by customary authorities would violate international human rights concerns. The 

question of whose hierarchy of priorities should be privileged 

is in final instance a political question as well as one of fundamental identity, and thus one that we do not seek to adjudicate 

in this analysis. 

Second, the devolution of jurisdiction to customary authorities does not necessarily mean that all the methods that 

they have used to procure justice would have to be authorized. 

Thus, it is entirely possible to envision a scenario in which 

chiefs are authorized to once again deal with manslaughter or 

theft cases, and yet are still prohibited from using any form of 

TBO in their deliberations. 

Third, policymakers should avoid seeing all customary authorities as entrenched defenders of custom, unable, unwilling, 

and uninterested in change. Thus, for example, there is considerable disagreement even among chiefs themselves about the 

relative validity of the more harmful forms of TBO, as opposed to other forms, such as ingesting dirt on the theory that 

a supernatural power will consequently cause them to suffer 

physical harm if they lie about a land claim. The latter is in 

effect not very different than asking someone to swear on the 

Bible in a formal court proceeding. Indeed, another characteristic of these rituals as they were described to us is that participation should not be forced but must be voluntary. Aside 

from this distinction, there are several examples of customary 

authorities who are already experimenting with social innovation. This is a fundamental observation that informs our process recommendations about exactly what mechanisms might 

produce solutions that have a greater chance of successfully 

bringing about desired change in local mores. 

Moving to more specific human rights implications of allocating greater jurisdiction to customary authorities, we consider the issue of rape. A key question is whether customary 

justice institutions are viewed by Liberians—most particularly 

women—as offering a better alternative to formal courts? 

Though inconclusive, our data is nevertheless suggestive. First, 

we found no evidence that when chiefs do intervene to resolve 

these cases they are doing so in ways viewed as unjust or, more 

specifically, in ways that are unsatisfying to women. Second, 

this lack of any explicit statements of dissatisfaction about 

how chiefs (or family representatives) resolve rape cases stands 

in rather marked contrast to the very vociferous and explicit 

statements of dissatisfaction with the outcomes for rape cases 

produced by the formal system. Third, a fair number of chiefs 

indicated that they are still solicited by their constituents to 

adjudicate such cases. This greater degree of satisfaction (or at 

least a lesser degree of dissatisfaction) with customary mechanisms for dealing with rape may partially reflect greater local 

confidence in the overall effectiveness and enforcement capacity of customary (as opposed to state) mechanisms. However, 

this preference may also be driven by Liberian ideas about 

what justice should entail. While the rape law may reflect the 

way policymakers believe Liberian women should think about 

rape, its consequences, and its remedy, our data at the very 
Part III: Conclusion 89

least casts some doubt on assumptions that it actually strikes a 

balance that local Liberian women believe to be the right one 

for realizing a sense of justice for rape victims. 

While more focused research is required to ascertain the 

views of rural Liberian women on this question, one might 

consider it wholly rational that the current social realities with 

which they must contend for the foreseeable future impact 

these views. Thus, the current rape law’s provisions may make 

a great deal more sense in a context in which 

■ a rape victim can assume she will not have to continuously interact with a perpetrator’s family;

■ community interactions are not essential to basic subsistence and survival;

■ a court is in fact likely to successfully prosecute and 

imprison a rapist;

■ a long litany of prohibitive fees and costs will not be 

levied in the formal court.

Conversely, in the rural Liberian context, a greater emphasis on social reconciliation and restoration may prove to be 

quite rational calculations. The key here may be to assume less 

and ask more, taking rural Liberian women as serious and capable assessors of their own situation and of the best options 

for improving it. In our view, more grounded research that 

highlights the opinions of local Liberian women, and rape 

victims themselves, is needed before a reliable answer to the 

question of whether customary jurisdiction in this area would 

or would not improve the situation of women and more effectively address rape than do formal courts.

Objectives and Principles that Guide

Justice

A second set of strategic choices that must be confronted 

about the role and relationship of formal and customary institutions involves the question of which principles are to be 

prioritized in defining the objectives of justice and procedures 

for achieving it. As we discussed extensively, the formal and 

the customary systems currently operate according to very 

different priority hierarchies, which in turn play a major role 

in defining the process by which cases are believed to be legitimately resolved. Our graphic representation of the options 

in figure 8 reflects the fact that in this instance the strategic 

options appear to us to be more starkly and categorically differentiated (although priorities in the customary system do 

shift to a position that is in a limited sense more proximate to 

those prescribed in the formal system to the degree that cases 

involve offenses that are particularly grave and committed by 

strangers rather than members of the community itself).

The question of what should be the objectives and guiding principles of justice are separable from policy deliberations about jurisdictional divisions of labor. In this respect, 

we underscore a fundamental finding that we believe should 

be a primary consideration in any debate about the development of rule of law in Liberia—namely, even if the formal 

court system was functioning free of corruption, exactly 

according to its explicit precepts and making more timely 

resolutions, and was more accessible to average Liberians, 

it still would not be capable of delivering the justice that 

would satisfy most rural Liberians. This is because Liberians emphasize criteria and priorities in their definitions of 

justice in ways that differ from those that guide the formal 

Figure 8: Guiding Objectives and Principles for Criminal Justice Outcomes

Priority Level Customary Formal

Higher

(Superordinate)

(Subordinate)

Lower

■ Reconciliation

■ Restore victim’s condition

■ Prevent recurrence by addressing 

contributing social factors

■ Other social interests

■ Punishment of perpetrators

■ Fees

■ Fees (in practice if not principle)

■ Punishment

Excluded

■ Contributing social factors

■ Other social interests

■ Grievance of perpetrator

■ Restore victim’s condition
90 Looking for Justice

system. Perhaps the most important point about this finding is that if justice reform policy wishes to realize the vital policy objectives that matter for Liberia’s future, it must 

deal with this reality in its own right regardless of whether 

the jurisdictional division of labor grants a greater or lesser 

role to customary institutions, or even eliminates their role 

altogether. Local perceptions of what satisfactory justice 

should entail are critical to the local legitimacy of justice 

institutions—formal or customary. The adjudication between these different conceptions of justice involves deeply 

political questions about Liberia’s own identity and whose 

values, precepts, and mores it will privilege at the expense 

of others. 

Our research suggests that a revision of emphasis in the 

forms of punishment or redress (from punitive to restorative) 

may be a particularly promising and socially welcome point 

of entrée. Without being prescriptive, we would suggest that 

policymaking on this issue take into account the following 

questions: In what ways might the formal system itself benefit 

from reforms that bring it closer into line with at least some of 

the socially prevalent cultural assumptions that inform the Liberian definitions of “justice” we have outlined here? Should 

Figure 9: Changing realities

From Liberia today

... to Liberia tomorrow?
Part III: Conclusion 91

redress be more restorative or merely punitive? Should narrow 

party interests or broader communitarian interests be allowed 

to matter in case resolution? By extension, what benefits may 

accrue to rule of law efforts that dedicate efforts to identifying 

local precepts of justice and actively seek how to strike socially 

acceptable balances between these and established international norms rather than focus solely on realigning customary 

mores with established legal frameworks and international 

expectations?

Toward Successful Policymaking

The challenges that confront the Liberian government and its 

international partners in the effort to establish rule of law in 

the aftermath of the country’s long civil war are daunting, not 

least of all because key strategic objectives may suggest courses 

of policy action that are at odds with each other. For example, 

how is the government of Liberia to cope with the challenges 

that practices such as TBO pose? 

In bringing local Liberian perspectives to bear on this, and 

many other questions, our findings and analysis have, if anything, made these questions more difficult and complicated by 

rendering visible costs and consequences (e.g., in social legitimacy) that have hitherto remained unconsidered. Our analysis so far highlights the reality and more specifically nuances 

the contours of these dilemmas, but admittedly does not offer 

many ready-made or self-evident solutions. Here we offer two 

suggestions on how policymakers might go about developing 

successful reform strategies.

Transitional policies: reflecting the reality of the 

moment

At the risk of being repetitive, it is our strong view that successful policies must reflect a deep understanding of and be 

responsive to realities on the ground—in particular, the three 

realities we have emphasized here: capacity and legitimacy of 

the formal system at the local level; capacity and legitimacy of 

the customary system; and Liberian beliefs about what constitutes justice. 

As demonstrated in figure 9, these realities will undoubtedly change over time, requiring a reassessment of policies to determine if the strategic objectives are still being maximized.

However, we would warn against any overly optimistic assumptions about how quickly these realities change. While 

our study clearly underscores the need for a great deal more 

attention to the wide-ranging needs of the local level of Liberia’s formal justice system, it seems to us highly unlikely that 

current levels of donor and government of Liberia resource 

allocation hold much promise of enabling such change within the time parameters initially contemplated by this study 

(Liberia’s first post-conflict decade). Indeed if other postconflict cases—even the more optimistic ones—have anything instructive to say about the rate of change that might 

be effected in Liberia’s formal system, it is quite likely that the 

meaningful metric for significance in change will actually be 

generational. 

In the meantime, rather than set standards at an unattainable level, it would be wise to consider transitional policies 

aimed at providing the best possible justice under the circumstances, and at creating an environment of openness and 

trust between the customary and formal systems that seeks to 

bridge the gaps and move toward full realization of Liberia’s 

goals for its justice system. Again, without being prescriptive, 

we suggest a preliminary—and by no means complete—list of 

policy directions that might be considered:

■ Place greater emphasis on building the capacity of and 

easing access to the formal justice system at the local 

level—the point of contact with the local population—

for example, by reducing fees, reducing case resolution 

time, eliminating the need for legal representation in 

certain cases, etc.

■ Incorporate restorative principles into formal adjudication of criminal cases—for example, by allowing victims 

to opt for compensation in lieu of (or in addition to) penal 

sanctions on the guilty (rather than requiring them to 

pursue costly civil cases), and by incorporating a role for 

traditional authorities to help reconcile the parties.

■ Adopt a more nuanced approach to defining jurisdictional limitations—for example, by introducing criteria 

to determine when crimes may (and may not) be adjudicated by customary authorities. Such criteria might 

include whether or not the parties prefer customary 

adjudication, whether or not a third party is affected, 

whether or not there is a political or ethnic dimension to 

the crime, etc. Among the benefits of such an approach 

would be a reduced caseload in the formal courts.

■ Restrict opportunistic forum shopping by encouraging 

the exhausting of traditional resolution in most cases 

(except for where this would lead to clear injustice) prior 

to entry into the formal system. 
92 Looking for Justice

■ Vastly increase accessible legal assistance and representation to the many litigants who fall victim to the vagaries 

of justice.

■ Ensure that policies aimed at promoting human rights 

take into account the larger socioeconomic context of 

rural Liberians.

Recognizing local communities as a neglected 

driver of change 

What has impressed all of us involved in this field research is 

the degree to which local Liberians are themselves engaged 

in imagining and experimenting with innovative solutions 

to some of the seemingly intractable problems. For example, 

there is the case of a local zoe who appealed for the organization of a national process akin to disarmament, demobilization, and reintegration initiatives elsewhere to consider how 

to deal with the scourge of witchcraft without resorting to 

TBO methods; the man who suggested convening a national 

conference with the Traditional Council of Liberia to develop a policy guideline on what parts of traditional resolution 

might be considered in conflict resolution and to ensure that 

the Ministries of Internal Affairs and Justice do not contradict 

each other; and the woman who recommended that police be 

trained to resolve matters in a way that allows parties to live in 

peace without animosity and not be overly focused on fees.

Rural populations and customary authorities are not often 

thought of as sources of change and innovation, but our data 

convinces us that some of them actually can be. While the 

many “dialogues” that have been implemented by national and 

international actors purport to be an exchange of ideas between local communities or citizens and those who are making policy at the top, in actual practice most of these dialogues 

tend to look like traffic on a one-way street. Typically, locals 

are “educated” (i.e., simply told) about new laws, programs, or 

solutions and very rarely ever asked to participate in their formulation or asked to make suggestions about how they might 

be improved. When local opinions are sought in such dialogues they tend to quickly degenerate into a long “gripe session” that identifies a laundry list of problems; such a process 

unfortunately does not tap the local imagination for solutions 

to these problems. 

However, the local knowledge that local actors can bring to 

bear reflects local norms and beliefs, as well as an awareness of 

how change in institutions or practices may affect the broader 

social context in which they are embedded. This awareness is 

likely to allow for a more nuanced assessment of local social 

barriers and a receptiveness to forms and rates of proposed 

change. It can also serve as a wellspring for new ideas about 

legal and institutional reform that are grounded in lived local 

practicalities. It can thus provide a new source of ideas that 

can be used to devise more realistic strategies for implementing and giving form to desirable change.

We believe that these local ideas can be tapped through 

a different type of consultative process, consciously and explicitly engineered “to identify and listen” to local ideas and 

solutions rather than telling them what those are. This process 

should be carefully designed to get communities to do more 

than identify problems; it should also get them involved in 

imagining solutions, what change should look like, and how 

to effectively bring it about. This consultation process should 

aim not only to tap a new source of ideas for change but also 

to foster a sense of community engagement in the national 

legal reform process (thus enhancing its legitimacy), while also 

building the capacity, local knowledge, and contextual understanding of national key stakeholders and international actors 

alike. Drawing upon the lessons learned through previous dialogue efforts by a handful of national (Association of Female 

Lawyers in Liberia) and international (Carter Center, InterPeace) organizations who have increasingly moved away from 

a “telling” and more toward a “listening” form of engagement 

with local communities and through additional consultations 

with UNMIL-LJSSD, we have more concretely outlined the 

steps that could realize such consultations in an annex to the 

electronic version of this report, which can be found at www.

usip.org. It is our belief that such a mechanism can allow policymakers to develop reform strategies that are practical because they continuously take into account and update their 

understanding of the types of local realities and social beliefs 

we have analyzed here, and also foster more meaningful local 

participation that can prove invaluable in Liberia’s rule of law 

reform process. 

Conclusion

In conclusion, we would emphasize that this report, and this 

section in particular, is by no means the final word on this 

complex subject. It is our hope that the findings and analysis 

we present here will stimulate a more systematic discussion 

by a broad range of stakeholders in Liberia about how justice 

reform strategies might take into account social realities. We 

expect that such discussions will greatly enhance and sharpen 

this analysis, and may challenge our conclusions as well. We 

also hope that the research methodology we used in this proj-
Part III: Conclusion 93

ect may inspire others to engage in empirical studies that will 

deepen and broaden the set of data available to policymakers 

on these issues.

Finally, everyone who participated in this project is guided 

by a hope in the lasting peace and stability of Liberia. And 

it is to those individuals in Lofa, Nimba, and Grand Gedeh 

Counties, along with Monrovia, who shared their time and 

opinions that we our most grateful. May this study be a vehicle for their voices being heard and heeded in the ongoing 

reconstruction of their nation.

 95

I

Introduction [ [ II Research Findings III Conclusion Appendix

01

 97

appendix: community-based justice

and the rule of law in liberia

by Bilal Siddiqi and Justin Sandefur

This study examines the accountability and performance of 

justice delivery mechanisms in post-conflict Liberia. The underlying data were collected as part of a baseline survey that 

sets the stage for a randomized controlled trial of an innovative access to justice intervention implemented by the Carter 

Center.

Research Questions

The following research questions guide the study: 

■ How do individuals who experience crime and conflict 

choose between multiple legal institutions? 

■ Does institutional competition increase accountability?

■ Can a community-based law and justice intervention 

improve institutional performance and the quality of 

justice delivery?

Methodology

Through 2008–9, CSAE conducted a representative household survey of 2,500 households spread over 176 villages in 

five Liberian counties: Bong, Grand Gedeh, Lofa, Maryland, 

and Nimba. The selection of communities was random and 

based on standard probability-proportional-to-size sampling. Twelve to sixteen households were selected randomly 

within each community. Each household was adminstered 

a 60–90 minute interview that collected detailed information on the household’s experience with a range of crimes 

and conflicts, including the forums visited, the time taken 

and costs incurred, and details of the judgment, including 

reported subjective satisfaction. The interviews also collected 

socioeconomic and attitudinal information including household size, ethnic and religious affiliation, war experiences, 

educational background and decisions, occupation, expenditure patterns, asset ownership, legal knowledge, and civic attitude towards violence and crime. In addition, more than 300 

key informant interviews were conducted with local police, 

magistrates, commissioners, and community justice providers 

(chiefs, elders, secret society leaders) to measure the overall 

incidence of crime and conflict, norms and beliefs, and the 

broader institutional context.

Findings

■ Liberians are (often surprisingly) candid about their lived 

experience of crimes, conflicts, and disputes, with the 

average household reporting three disputes and several 

reporting more than six or seven to the survey team (see 

figure A.1). Yet most people do not carry disputes to any 

forum (see tables 8 and 9 in the report’s main text).

■ While formal legal reform in Liberia is proceeding at a 

rapid pace, formal legal institutions are costly, difficult to 

access, and practice laws and procedures that the ordinary 

Liberian considers alien. Thus, women, for example, 

despite reporting less general agreement with the 

supremacy of customary law, are also less likely to take 

cases to formal institutions. The formal system of justice 

is also widely seen as less “fair” (see figures 1, 2, and 4 in 

the main text and table A.1).

■ The informal system is overwhelmingly the system of choice 

along the entire spectrum of conflicts and disputes, with only 

the most serious crimes such as murder and rape being 

taken in equal numbers to both systems (see tables 8 and 

9 in the main text). Most Liberians surveyed stated that 

decisions by traditional leaders should take precedent 

over the formal law (see figure 3 in the main text).

■ Although more proximate and socially acceptable, the 

informal system is not perfect and shows signs of being dominated by local influential individuals. When “powerful” 

people (landowners, administrators, and other local 

elites) are involved in a dispute, the case is less likely to be 

reported anywhere, and if reported it goes to the informal 

system. Poorer people (proxied by those who stated subsistence farming as their main or sole occupation) are less 

likely to report cases to any forum (see figures 3 and 4 in 

the main text and table A.1). 

■ For policymakers, this suggests a trade-off between extending 

the accessibility and relevance of the formal system, and 

strengthening the customary system with an aim to make it 
98 Looking for Justice

more progressive and open. While the formal system is 

considered far removed from the norms and reality of 

ordinary Liberians, there is some tentative evidence that 

nongovernmental organizations are considered somewhat 

less alien (see figure 2 in the main text), perhaps suggesting an additional avenue for policy.

Ongoing Work

The Carter Center, in conjunction with the Catholic Justice 

for Peace Commission, is piloting an innovative Community Legal Advisor (CLA) program that seeks to strengthen 

the links between the formal and customary systems. Mobile CLAs visit rural communities on a regular schedule, 

providing free-of-cost legal advice, assisting disputants in 

negotiating local institutions, and directly mediating disputes if so requested. CSAE is working in partnership 

with the Carter Center to implement a randomized controlled trial of the intervention. Half of our baseline survey communities have been randomly selected to receive 

the treatment (visits from the mobile paralegals), and the 

remainder have been assigned as control communities. 

Follow-up surveys will be conducted in both treatment and 

control communities after several months of exposure to 

measure differences in key outcomes such as the incidence, 

reporting, and resolution of disputes; reported satisfaction and 

trust in the justice system; household economic status and 

decisions; and the behavior of justice providers. The results of 

the study will deepen our understanding of the effectiveness 

of interventions designed to strengthen community-based 

accountability and its implications for household wellbeing.

About CSAE

The Centre for the Study of African Economies (CSAE) is an 

economic research centre at the University of Oxford. CSAE 

carries out economic research with a particular focus on Africa. CSAE work in Liberia is being conducted in partnership 

with the Carter Center, the United States Institute of Peace, 

the George Washington University, and Yale University. The 

research has received generous support from the Open Society 

Institute (OSI). In Oxford, the project is housed in Improving Institutions for Pro-Poor Growth (iiG), an international 

network of applied research institutes across Africa, Asia, the 

United States, and Europe. iiG research is funded by the UK 

Table A.1 Multinomial logit analysis

Percentage change in odds for unit 

increase in X

Formal–

Informal

Formal–

No forum

Informal–

No forum

Plaintiff: Ethnic majority [1=Yes] –20.1 –22.0 –2.5

Plaintiff: Male [1=Yes] 62.8** 60.4** –1.5

Plaintiff: Powerful [1=Yes] 7.5 –14.8 –20.8***

Plaintiff: Powerful relations [1=Yes] 35.6* -3.2 –28.6***

Plaintiff: Subsistence farmer [1=Yes] –44.0*** –42.3*** 3.2

Defendant: Ethnic majority [1=Yes] 1.7 6.0 4.3

Defendant: Male [1=Yes] 155.1*** 232.2*** 30.2***

Defendant: Powerful [1=Yes] 41.0 3.6 –26.5**

Defendant: Powerful relations [1=Yes] 16.4 11.9 -3.9

Defendant: Subsistence farmer [1=Yes] –42.5** –44.1* -2.8

Plaintiff [1=Yes] –54.8** –98.9*** –97.6***

N = 4987; dispute dummies not shown; * statistically significant at the 10% level (p<0.10); ** statistically significant at the 5% level 

(p<0.05); *** statistically significant at the 1% level (p<0.01)

Figure A.1 Schematic Representation of Data Set
Appendix 99

Department for International Development (DFID), the William and Flora Hewlett Foundation, and the OSI. The views 

expressed are not necessarily those of DFID, Hewlett, or OSI.

Bilal Siddiqi is a research officer at the CSAE and a PhD candidate in Economics. He holds an MPhil in economics from Oxford.

Justin Sandefur is a research officer at the CSAE and international 

resident adviser to the Government of Tanzania. He holds a PhD 

in economics from Oxford.
 100

about the authors

Deborah H. Isser joined the United States Institute of 

Peace’s Rule of Law Center of Innovation in August 2004. 

She directs projects on the role of nonstate justice systems in 

post-conflict societies and on addressing property claims in 

the wake of conflict. Previously, she was a senior policy adviser at the Office of the High Representative in Bosnia and 

Herzegovina, where she focused on economic reform and efforts to address serious crime and corruption. From 2000 to 

2001, she was a special adviser for the U.S. Mission to the 

United Nations. She received the Department of State’s Distinguished Honor Award for her work on UN peacekeeping 

reform in the context of the Brahimi Report. She was also a 

member of the team responsible for settling U.S. arrears to the 

United Nations.

Isser received a JD from Harvard Law School, an MA 

in law and diplomacy from the Fletcher School of Law and 

Diplomacy, and an AB from Columbia University.

Stephen C. Lubkemann is assistant professor of anthropology and of international affairs at the George Washington 

University, where he began teaching in 2002. He received 

his PhD in 2000 from the Department of Anthropology at 

Brown University, where he retains an adjunct appointment 

at the Watson Institute for International Studies. 

He has done extensive fieldwork in Mozambique and 

South Africa, and in Europe and the United States with African refugees and diaspora communities. His ongoing research 

includes a project initiated in 2004, with research grants from 

the United States Institute of Peace and the Harry Frank 

Guggenheim Foundation, that examines the political and 

socioeconomic influence of displacement diasporas in their 

war-torn countries of origin through a specific study of the 

Liberian case. 

Saah N’Tow currently heads the President’s Young Professionals and the Scott Fellows’ Program in Liberia, joint programs between the government of Liberia, the Center for 

Global Development, and John Snow Incorporated. He formerly served as the national coordinator of the field research 

team on the United States Institute of Peace and George 

Washington University research project “From Current Practices of Justice to Rule of Law: Policy Options for Liberia’s 

First Post-Conflict Decade.” He holds master’s degrees in 

humanitarian assistance and human services administration 

from Tufts University and Springfield College, respectively, 

and a bachelor’s degree in mathematics from the University of 

Liberia. As a community activist and independent researcher 

and writer, he has been engaged with issues of concern to the 

Liberian diaspora in the United States, including its role in 

its homeland, and more generally with economic and social 

development initiatives in his native Liberia. He has also 

published a collection of original poetry titled Dirges for My 

Homeland.
 3

About the Institute

The United States Institute of Peace is an 

independent, nonpartisan institution established 

and funded by Congress. Its goals are to help 

prevent and resolve violent conflicts, promote 

post-conflict peacebuilding, and increase conflict 

management tools, capacity, and intellectual 

capital worldwide. The Institute does this by 

empowering others with knowledge, skills, and 

resources, as well as by its direct involvement in 

conflict zones around the globe.

Board of Directors

J. Robinson West (Chair), Chairman, PFC Energy, 

Washington, D.C. • George E. Moose (Vice Chairman), Adjunct Professor of Practice, The George 

Washington University, Washington, D.C. • Anne 

H. Cahn, Former Scholar in Residence, American 

University, Washington, D.C. • Chester A. Crocker,

James R. Schlesinger Professor of Strategic Studies, 

School of Foreign Service, Georgetown University, 

Washington, D.C. • Ikram U. Khan, President, 

Quality Care Consultants, LLC., Las Vegas, Nev. • 

Kerry Kennedy, Human Rights Activist • Stephen 

D. Krasner, Graham H. Stuart Professor of International Relations at Stanford University • Jeremy A. 

Rabkin, Professor of Law, George Mason University, 

Arlington, Va. • Judy Van Rest, Executive Vice 

President, International Republican Institute, 

Washington, D.C. • Nancy Zirkin, Executive Vice 

President, Leadership Conference on Civil Rights 

Members Ex Officio

Hillary Rodham Clinton, Secretary of State • James N. 

Miller, Principle Deputy Under Secretary of 

Defense for Policy • Ann E. Rondeau, Vice Admiral, 

U.S. Navy; President, National Defense University • 

Richard H. Solomon, President, United States Institute 

of Peace (nonvoting)
4 Looking for Justice

United States Institute of Peace • 1200 17th Street NW • Washington, DC 20036 • usip.org

As Liberia reconstructs institutions 

shattered by years of brutal conflict, 

the government and its international 

partners have focused on the formal 

justice system, refurbishing courthouses, training judicial and legal 

officers, and strengthening legislation 

that protects fundamental rights. Yet 

most Liberians resolve their disputes 

through customary mechanisms and 

institutions. To many Liberians, the 

formal justice system is seen as not 

only incapable of providing satisfactory justice but also as one of the most 

effective ways for certain social actors 

to perpetrate injustice in service to 

their own interests. This study, based 

on interviews and focus groups in 

Liberia, investigates how Liberians 

assess their options as they seek redress 

for crimes and civil disputes, and it 

explores the implications for reform of 

the traditional justice system.

Peaceworks

November 2009 • no. 63

Related Links

■ Would You Fight Again? Understanding Liberian Ex-Combatant Reintegration,

by Richard Hill, Gwendolyn Taylor, and Jonathan Temin, (Special Report 

211, September 2008)

■ Constructing Justice and Security after War, ed. Charles T. Call, 2007

■ Combating Serious Crimes in Postconflict Societies, ed. Colette Rausch, 2006

■ Responding to War and State Collapse in West Africa, (Special Report 81, 

January 2002)