Published: June 20, 2025
When laws are written, they are meant to be followed. When institutions are created to uphold those laws, they must remain impartial. And when those charged with oversight choose proximity to power over fidelity to duty, the foundations of public trust begin to crack.
That is precisely what is now unfolding with the Executive Director of the Public Procurement and Concessions Commission (PPCC), Mr. Bodger Scott Johnson, who joined a high-level Liberian government delegation to China alongside Vice President Jeremiah Koung. The purpose of the trip: to inspect companies that have submitted unsolicited proposals to supply road construction equipment—the so-called Yellow Machines.
The Boakai administration, in defending the trip, has argued that it is a fact-finding mission, not a procurement conclusion. And now, in a formal response, the PPCC itself has rejected any claim of conflict of interest, citing provisions of the PPCA of 2010. According to the Commission, its involvement falls under its statutory mandate to ensure the economic and efficient use of public funds, and to make assessments and recommendations as necessary to improve procurement outcomes.
“There is absolutely no conflict of interest as it is being perceived,” the Commission stated. It cited Part II, Section 4 of the Act, which outlines its object to promote transparency, fairness, and efficiency in procurement. The Commission also referenced Sections 5(A) and 5(K), which empower it to monitor and advise on procurement systems. “With these supporting legal provisions, we can conclude that the presence/inclusion of the PPCC Executive Director on the Liberian Government delegation to China has no elements of conflict of interest.”
Yet, The Liberian Investigator’s review of the Public Procurement and Concessions Act, its amended regulations presents a contrasting legal interpretation—one that points not just to poor judgment, but a direct violation of the law.
PPCA does not allow the Commission to participate directly or indirectly in any procurement or concession activities, including the selection of suppliers, contractors or consultants.” Mr. Johnson, as head of the Commission, did exactly that. He boarded a flight, traveled to China, and was physically present as government officials evaluated vendor quality, plant capacity, and production standards.
No matter how one spins it, this was procurement activity. This was vendor evaluation. This was precisely the sort of engagement the law prohibits for regulators.
Liberians must ask: if the man responsible for safeguarding the neutrality and transparency of procurement cannot distinguish his oversight role from participation, who will guard the process?
The Commission, however, defends this very presence as lawful and necessary. It argues that the law also mandates the PPCC to improve procurement processes and ensure best value for money. “It is done in the best interest of Liberia,” the Commission maintains.
But how do we reconcile such “advisory” involvement with the law’s prohibition of participation in supplier selection?
The PPCC was designed to be a bulwark against the political contamination of public contracts. It was meant to sit above the fray, independent of executive manipulation, capable of flagging procedural violations and halting flawed deals.
But what happens when the Commission itself is compromised? What happens when its head, instead of scrutinizing from a distance, embeds himself within the executive apparatus and joins vendor roadshows?
The answer is chilling: the entire procurement architecture collapses. What the public is left with is a shell of oversight—a Commission reduced to rubberstamping executive choices rather than enforcing procurement integrity.
PPCC leadership rejects this interpretation. According to the Commission, the Executive Director’s participation is an “incidental” function consistent with the objectives outlined in Part I of the Act, which includes maximizing competition and promoting value for money in public expenditure.
Still, one must ask: can oversight be credibly maintained if the oversight body itself is embedded in the selection process?
This incident must be seen within a broader context. The original Yellow Machines deal was shrouded in secrecy, pegged at a staggering $79 million, and linked to foreign private interests without any documented procurement trail. That deal sparked public outrage and was eventually shelved.
In its new iteration, the deal is presented as restructured, cost-effective, and guided by better intentions. But intentions are not governance. Processes are. Laws are. Accountability is.
Mr. Johnson’s participation in this trip indicates that, despite cosmetic changes, the same disregard for lawful procurement processes persists. This time, though, the disregard is sanctioned by the very institution meant to prevent it.
In any functioning democracy, this revelation would have triggered resignations. At minimum, it would have prompted a press conference from the PPCC explaining its position and justifying its actions—which, in fairness, it now has. The Commission has broken its silence to argue that its role in the delegation was legal, appropriate, and consistent with its oversight mandate.
Rule 13.1 of the Amended PPCC Regulations reaffirms the Commission’s strict boundaries: “PPCC shall only participate in procurement proceedings in an advisory or observational capacity and shall not, under any circumstances, partake in the decision-making process.”
Yet that is exactly what appears to have occurred. According to Vice President Koung, the delegation’s purpose was to “inspect and compare equipment quality, plant capacity, and production standards.” That is not advisory. That is execution.
The training of procurement officers warns against such participation. It notes that presence in supplier inspections or pre-selection meetings can signal institutional bias and compromise neutrality.
When law, regulation, and internal guidance all point in the same direction—and that direction is ignored—what justification remains?
The Commission would respond: presence is not participation. Observation is not execution. But when oversight bodies begin to walk into operational spaces, the line between monitoring and meddling becomes dangerously thin.
President Boakai campaigned on a platform of good governance. He promised to restore institutional credibility and draw a sharp contrast with his predecessor. This incident presents his first real test.
Will he act? Will he ask Mr. Johnson to step aside pending an inquiry? Will he instruct the Ministry of Justice to assess whether legal lines have been crossed? Or will he stand by silently, hoping the news cycle moves on?
Liberia has lost billions of dollars to poor procurement, backdoor deals, and fraudulent concessions. Each time, the refrain is the same: we will learn from our mistakes.
But we are not learning. We are repeating. And worse, we are dragging oversight bodies into the repetition. If the PPCC cannot be relied upon to stay out of the room when deals are being formed, then it is not an oversight body. It is an accessory.
This editorial is not a personal attack on Mr. Johnson. It is a defense of the law, of institutional responsibility, and of the fragile hope that Liberia can move forward.
If Mr. Johnson believes he acted within the law, he must explain how—which, to his credit, the PPCC has now attempted. If the government believes this trip was lawful, it must show the procurement path that led to it. Otherwise, the silence will only confirm the worst suspicions: that the rules are for the ruled, and never for the rulers.
The Legislature must launch an inquiry. The Senate Committee on Public Accounts, Audit, and Expenditure should summon Mr. Johnson for questioning. The Ministry of Justice must issue legal guidance on whether the PPCC’s involvement crossed statutory lines. Civil society must demand answers.
And Mr. Johnson himself—if he respects the institution he leads—should offer his resignation or at least recuse himself from ongoing Yellow Machines proceedings until an investigation concludes.
This is about precedent. It is about institutional survival. If we allow regulators to cross lines this blatantly without consequence, we normalize corruption not as an act, but as an operating system.
Liberia is trying to dig itself out of decades of misrule. That journey cannot succeed if we sabotage the very institutions designed to keep us honest.
The Yellow Machines may build roads—but if we must run over our laws to get them, those roads will lead nowhere.
Discussion about this post