: When the Carols Fade: a Christmas of Hardship and Quiet Despair in Liberia

IN LIBERIA, Christmas has always been more than a holy day on the calendar. It has traditionally been a season when hardship briefly loosened its grip, when struggling families found breathing space, and when the informal economy–on which the majority depend — came alive.

FOR YEARS, the final stretch of December brought packed markets, quick sales, and a sense of relief for traders who relied on the holiday rush to offset months of slow business. This year, that long-standing expectation has collapsed, leaving behind a sobering reality: a Christmas marked not by cheer, but by endurance.

ACROSS RED Light and other major commercial centers, the streets are busy but the mood is subdued. People move through the markets in large numbers, yet traders say the crowds are deceptive. What looks like commercial activity is largely made up of fellow sellers, jobless youths turned vendors, and buyers who only ask prices before walking away. Tables are neatly arranged, goods carefully displayed, but transactions are painfully few.

“CHRISTMAS BUSINESS is not about seeing people,” one trader remarked. “It’s about how fast goods move.” By that measure, this season has failed. From dawn to dusk, many sellers report making just enough to eat for the day, with no surplus to save, reinvest, or prepare for the new year.

FOR OLDER TRADERS, the disappointment cuts deep. They remember a time when December alone could carry a household through January and February. Many say this pattern held through much of the Ellen Johnson Sirleaf administration and even into the early years of former President George Weah’s tenure.

THEN, Christmas meant money circulating — salaries doubled, remittances flowed, susu clubs paid out, and NGOs hired short-term workers. This year, that circulation has largely dried up.

“This year business is still going. It is better than last year, but it is still very tough,” says Matthew D. Kenneth, a trader at Red Light Market. “The sellers are more than the buyers. So due to this reason people are not really buying.” His words capture the imbalance that defines today’s markets: too many people selling, too few with money to spend.

THAT INBALANCE is rooted in deeper economic pressures. Unemployment remains widespread, formal jobs are scarce, and the decline in NGO operations has removed a key source of income for thousands of urban households. With limited alternatives, many Liberians have turned to street vending simply to survive. The result is a flooded informal sector where competition is fierce and profits are thin.

A USED-CLOTHING seller at Red Light describes the shift with frustration. “During Ellen’s time, we could open three times a week and clear our goods. After Ellen, when Weah took over, business started getting tough. Up to now, we are still struggling,” she said. She also pointed to unpredictable exchange-rate movements. “Sometimes the rate changes in ways we don’t understand, and the business suffers.”

ALTHOUGH AUTHORITIES point to a declining exchange rate and reduced prices for essentials such as rice and fuel, ordinary Liberians say the relief is more theoretical than real. Prices may have dipped, but incomes have fallen faster. Whatever little money comes in is quickly consumed by rent, transportation, school fees, and daily food. Christmas extras–new clothes, chicken, soft drinks–have become luxuries many cannot afford.

“Around this time, we expect to see money coming outside, but we can’t see the money,” says one a small business owner. “We expect that people will get double salary, the yearly susu clubs will burst, or people will get money from abroad, but we are not seeing anything.”

COMMUTERS SHARE the same frustration. Jerry M. Kollie calls this season a contradiction. “It’s really a bitter-sweet Christmas this year. We are happy that things prices have gone low–rice, gasoline and other food items. But there is no money. I think this is because more people are not working in the NGO sector like before because USAID has left,” he explains.

FOR TRADERS who borrowed money in anticipation of Christmas sales, the situation is especially worrying. Many took loans from banks or susu groups, confident that December profits would allow them to repay. With sales far below expectations, the fear of default hangs heavily.

“This season, I can sell for one whole week and only make five thousand Liberian dollars. It’s hand to mouth,” says a young man selling men’s jeans from a wheelbarrow. “In past years, people bought. This year, things are really hard.” A female trader echoed the concern: “We took loans because Christmas is supposed to pay us back. Now Christmas is here, but the money is not coming. We don’t know how we will pay.”

SOME TRADERS still cling to hope, citing Liberia’s culture of last-minute shopping. “For now, we can’t say they won’t buy,” said a used-clothing vendor with more than ten years in the trade. “Liberians like last-minute timing.” Yet as Christmas Day draws closer, that hope grows thinner with each slow business day.

CONSUMERS, meanwhile, say they are constrained by realities beyond their control. Goods priced in U.S. dollars remain expensive when converted to Liberian dollars, even when the exchange rate improves.

“If goods are priced in U.S. dollars, it will still be expensive in Liberian dollars,” said Vivian Kolleh, adding that exchange-rate gains rarely translate into meaningful price reductions in the market. Others point to the shortage of Liberian dollar notes and ongoing difficulties cashing out mobile money as additional obstacles to spending.

MORE VOICES from the market paint a bleak picture. “People are buying only what they must eat today, not what they want for celebration,” said a food vendor. Another trader observed, “Children are asking for clothes and shoes, but parents are telling them to wait. That alone tells you how hard things are.” One elderly seller summed it up quietly: “We are grateful for peace and life, but peace without income cannot make Christmas sweet.”

ALL OF THIS is happening as the Liberian government continues to emphasize progress on the international stage. Diplomatic engagements, renewed partnerships, and participation in global and regional forums have boosted Liberia’s visibility abroad. Officials often point to these developments as signs of recovery and renewed confidence.

YET ON THE GROUND, in markets like Red Light, such progress feels distant. Bread-and-butter issues–jobs, wages, reliable income, and consumer confidence–remain unresolved for the majority. The reduction in donor activity, limited private-sector growth, and absence of large-scale job creation have left ordinary people struggling to feel the impact of international goodwill.

CHRISTMAS HAS a way of exposing economic truth. When markets are crowded but cash is scarce, when loans go unpaid, and when joy is postponed in favor of survival, the message is unmistakable. Macroeconomic improvements mean little if they do not translate into dignity and stability for everyday citizens.

THIS CHRITMAS, Liberians are not without hope–but it is a cautious hope, shaped by hardship. Many are choosing resilience over revelry, faith over festivity. Until national progress is felt in household incomes and market activity, the country will continue to sing the blues, even in a season meant for celebration.

By FrontPageAfrica.