Rubber, Jobs, and the Future of Liberia: Why the Liberian Rubber Industry Is Nervous Again
Monrovia, Liberia—When United States Charge d’Affaires Joseph Zadrozny recently visited Jeety Rubber LLC and its subsidiary Salala Rubber Corporation; many Liberians may have seen it as another ordinary diplomatic visit. It was not. The timing of that visit matters. Standing inside one of Liberia’s growing rubber-processing operations, the American diplomat praised the company’s investments in schools, clinics, water systems, laboratories, jobs, and manufacturing ambitions — including plans to produce Liberia’s first locally manufactured tires by 2028. He encouraged foreign and diaspora investment and highlighted the importance of industrial growth in Liberia.
But beneath the smiles, speeches, and photographs lies a deeper uneasiness spreading quietly across Liberia’s rubber industry. Liberians should read carefully and pay attention. Something important may be unfolding quietly inside the sector — and if the country is not careful, the consequences could affect jobs, factories, government revenues, industrialization, and the broader future of the Liberian economy. The recent murmurs in the rubber sector are not ordinary whispers. They may be early warning signs.
Liberia’s relationship with rubber stretches back nearly a century. It is a story shaped by global war, industrial expansion, foreign investment, local entrepreneurship, labor struggles, and now, a growing battle over value addition, industrial survival, and economic sovereignty.
In 1926, the Government of Liberia signed what became one of the most consequential concession agreements in African economic history with Firestone Liberia. The agreement granted the American company access to up to one million acres of land for rubber cultivation. At the time, the global automobile industry was rapidly expanding, and the United States was searching for reliable rubber supplies outside British-controlled Southeast Asia. Natural rubber had become strategically critical for tires, military equipment, aviation, and industrial machinery.
By 1928, Firestone had established operations in Harbel, Margibi County, named after Harvey and Idabelle Firestone. Over the following decades, the plantation became one of the largest contiguous rubber plantations in the world. Liberia soon emerged as one of Africa’s leading rubber producers. The numbers mattered then, and they still matter now.
According to World Trade Organization trade review data, rubber accounted for approximately 12.5 percent of Liberia’s total export receipts in 2021, making it Liberia’s most important agricultural export commodity. Commercial rubber farms employ an estimated 20,000 workers directly, while roughly 35,000 smallholder households participate in rubber farming across the country. Entire local economies in Margibi, Bong, Bomi, Nimba, and Grand Bassa Counties continue to depend heavily on rubber.
Historically, Firestone alone has been one of Liberia’s largest private-sector employers. At various periods before and after the civil war, workforce estimates ranged between 8,000 and 12,000 workers when contractors, consultants, seasonal workers, and indirect labor were included. Current official company figures still place Firestone’s workforce at more than 4,000 direct employees, with thousands more depending indirectly on the plantation economy. Entire communities survive because the rubber economy survives.
But the industry has become increasingly fragile. U.S. trade data indicates that Liberia’s rubber production declined by roughly 26.5 percent — from 87,777 metric tons in 2021 to approximately 64,516 metric tons in a later reporting period. That decline reflects falling output from both large plantations and smallholder farmers. These figures help explain why even small disruptions in supply chains now create nervousness throughout the sector.
For decades, however, Liberia largely remained an exporter of raw materials. Rubber left Liberia in raw or semi-processed form, while the higher-value manufacturing happened elsewhere. Tires, industrial gloves, conveyor belts, medical products, and automobile components were manufactured abroad and then imported back into African markets at significantly higher prices.
This pattern mirrored the broader structure of many African economies: export raw materials and import finished products. Yet postwar Liberia began asking new questions. Why should Liberia continue exporting raw materials while industrial jobs remain elsewhere? Why should a country with one of Africa’s oldest rubber industries still import finished rubber products? Why should communities hosting plantations remain poor while value chains mature abroad?
These were not ideological questions. They were economic survival questions. Following the civil war, successive governments increasingly emphasized value addition, local processing, and industrialization. The idea was straightforward: Liberia should not only grow rubber; it should process and manufacture more products domestically. That broader national conversation created space for newer industrial actors.
Jeety Rubber and Salala Rubber Corporation emerged as part of this evolving industrial landscape. Businessman Upjit Singh Sachdeva invested not only in rubber processing but also in schools, clinics, maternity facilities, science laboratories, scholarships, and water systems in surrounding communities.
Recent public reports indicate that Jeety’s operations employ between 800 and 900 direct workers, with broader estimates rising above 1,500 when contractors and indirect workers are included. More significantly, the company has publicly announced ambitions to produce Liberia’s first locally manufactured tires by 2028—an idea that would represent a historic shift from raw commodity exportation toward actual manufacturing.
But beneath that ambition lies a growing challenge. There have been increasing murmurs within the sector that growing numbers of Liberian smallholder farmers are selling rubber to foreign buyers—particularly Chinese traders—rather than to traditional processors such as Firestone and Jeety Rubber. From the farmers’ perspective, the decision is understandable. Farmers often go to whoever offers quicker cash payments or slightly higher prices. In difficult economic times, immediate survival matters more than long-term industrial policy debates.
But what initially appeared to be ordinary market competition is now beginning to trigger concern at the national level. Recently, Liberia’s Customs Department under the Liberia Revenue Authority issued what it described as an “Important Revenue Notice” to all transit agents and exporters of rubber. The notice announced tighter controls over rubber exports in transit from Guinea and stricter inspection procedures for processed rubber exports from Liberia.
Under the directive, rubber entering Liberia in transit from Guinea must now be officially received at border entry points by Customs and escorted to ports of export. The notice further warned that any rubber lacking official Guinean export documentation would be treated as Liberian exports and subjected to Executive Order #151 requirements. Additionally, all processed rubber exports from Liberia are now to be jointly inspected and sealed by Customs and the Liberia Agricultural Commodity Regulatory Authority (LACRA) before final export permits are issued.
Government agencies do not normally issue such notices unless there are deeper concerns involving revenue leakage, export traceability, smuggling, industrial supply disruptions, or regulatory control. And increasingly, even Liberian buyers themselves are beginning to complain. Industry actors quietly warn that competition for raw rubber has intensified sharply. Some processors reportedly struggle to secure enough supply to keep factories operating at full capacity. Reports within the sector suggest reduced worker shifts at some facilities because of lower raw material intake. If true, that means jobs are already beginning to feel the pressure.
This is where the issue becomes bigger than individual companies. What makes the situation particularly serious is the scale of livelihoods involved. Firestone’s direct and indirect workforce supports tens of thousands of Liberians. Jeety Rubber and Salala Rubber Corporation employ hundreds more Liberians and support surrounding communities through schools, clinics, transportation, and local commerce. Smallholder farmers themselves depend on the sector for survival.
When factories begin complaining about inadequate rubber supply, this is no longer merely a business issue. It becomes a national employment issue. And this is where the government’s ARREST Agenda enters the conversation directly. President Joseph Boakai’s ARREST Agenda for Inclusive Development prioritizes jobs, economic empowerment, investment, agriculture, and private-sector growth. The rubber industry sits directly at the intersection of all these priorities. If Liberia loses industrial processing capacity or fails to secure stable supply chains for domestic factories, the country risks undermining one of the very sectors capable of generating large-scale employment outside government.
This cannot be left to market forces alone. The Ministries of Labor, Youth and Sports, Justice, and Commerce and Industry must now take control of the situation before the problem deepens. The Ministry of Commerce and Industry must examine whether Liberia’s industrial strategy is being undermined by uncontrolled raw exports and unstable supply chains. The Ministry of Labor must assess the implications for employment if processors begin reducing operations. The Ministry of Youth and Sports should recognize that thousands of young Liberians depend directly and indirectly on the rubber economy for jobs and survival. The Ministry of Justice and enforcement agencies must also pay attention to allegations of smuggling, undocumented exports, and possible violations of export regulations.
But lawmakers must also wake up.
Liberians should call their senators and representatives and tell them to pay attention to what is happening in the country’s rubber sector. This is not merely a plantation issue in Margibi or Bong County. It is a national economic issue tied directly to jobs, exports, industrialization, and the future of Liberian manufacturing.
The Legislature cannot remain silent while one of Liberia’s largest employment sectors becomes increasingly unstable. Public hearings may now be necessary. Lawmakers should be asking difficult questions. What is happening to Liberia’s rubber supply chains? Are local processors being undermined? Is there smuggling or under-declaration taking place? Are government revenues being lost? What policies are needed to protect both smallholder farmers and domestic industry? What lessons can Liberia learn from Ghana and Côte d’Ivoire?
At the same time, governments must avoid reacting in ways that punish smallholder farmers. Farmers deserve fair prices, prompt payments, and functioning markets. Any solution that protects processors while impoverishing farmers will ultimately fail. What Liberia needs is balance. The country must protect farmers while also protecting industrialization. It must encourage competition while also preserving domestic manufacturing ambitions. It must secure government revenues while also creating incentives for long-term investment.
Liberia should also pay close attention to what is happening elsewhere in West Africa. Côte d’Ivoire — now Africa’s largest rubber producer and the world’s third-largest producer globally — generates roughly US$2 billion annually from rubber exports and production. The country has aggressively pushed local processing requirements because it understands that rubber is not merely agriculture; it is industrial policy tied directly to jobs, exports, and manufacturing.
Ghana has moved in the same direction. Ghana exported more than US$227 million worth of rubber in 2024 but recently imposed a 10-year ban on raw natural rubber exports after domestic processors warned that factories were being starved of supply and jobs were being threatened. Ghanaian authorities concluded that exporting raw rubber while importing finished products meant exporting jobs and industrial opportunities along with the commodity itself.
Liberia is now approaching the same crossroads. Liberia has the raw materials. Liberia has the labor force. Liberia has nearly a century of institutional memory in rubber production. What Liberia has struggled to build consistently is the industrial infrastructure and policy coordination needed to move up the value chain. That is why the current whispers in the rubber sector matter.
If Liberia loses its processing base, it risks remaining trapped permanently at the lowest end of global commodity markets. But if Liberia can stabilize supply chains, encourage domestic processing, protect smallholder farmers, and gradually expand manufacturing, the country could finally begin transforming rubber from a colonial-era export commodity into the foundation of modern industrial growth.
The dream of “Made in Liberia” tires may sound ambitious today. But nearly a century ago, the idea that a small West African nation could become home to one of the world’s largest rubber plantations also sounded ambitious. History shows that industries are not built overnight. They are built through patience, coordination, investment, and national vision.
Liberians should therefore pay very close attention to what is happening quietly inside the rubber sector. Because the nervousness in Liberia’s rubber industry today is about far more than rubber. It is about jobs. It is about industrialization. It is about whether Liberia is finally ready to move from exporting raw potential to manufacturing its future.
