Representative Yekeh Kolubah of Montserrado County’s district #10 has long been one of the most outspoken and contentious voices in the House of Representatives. Known for his blunt rhetoric and confrontational style, he has frequently criticized the Executive branch and, at times, the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of Liberia. Supporters call him fearless; critics say he is undisciplined, rude, and reckless. The old adage applies: “A fish that keeps its mouth shut avoids the hook.”
Kolubah often references a military and paramilitary background, stating that he served as a paramilitary officer during the administration of former President Charles Taylor. While that history has shaped his self-image as a tough, uncompromising actor, opponents argue that his conduct lacks the basic courtesy and deference expected toward lawful authority. His repeated verbal attacks on national leaders have fueled debate about whether his approach helps or harms Liberia’s fragile democratic discourse.
Over several legislative sessions, Kolubah’s criticisms escalated beyond policy disagreements into personal insults directed at the presidency. To many observers, his tone suggested either political madness or a self-destructive impulse. Both interpretations point to the same risk: when a lawmaker consistently undermines institutional respect, it strains the unwritten norms that hold the body politics together.
Calls for accountability eventually translated into legislative action against Kolubah. The process and circumstances surrounding his removal from office were widely described as irregular and lacking a firm Constitutional basis. Legal scholars and civil society groups argued that due process was not observed and that the move was politically motivated rather than legally justified. Thus, even his critics conceded the procedure was illegal and unjustified.
Despite the procedural flaws, some commentators invoked the national security doctrine that “national security supersedes all else” to defend the outcome, if not the method. From this perspective, Kolubah’s persistent verbal assaults on the Commander-in-Chief and other institutions were seen as a threat to stability. The argument holds that when an elected official repeatedly crosses lines of decorum and institutional respect, the state may act preemptively. “A stitch in time saves nine,” as the saying goes.
This reasoning creates a bitter paradox. One of the core principles of governance is that “what is not done in the confidence of the law is not done at all”. If a removal violates legal standards, it weakens the very system it claims to protect. For officeholders entrusted with public power, the national security of the Republic is paramount, yet it cannot be divorced from legality. The Kolubah case forces a hard question: can an unlawful act ever be necessary for the Republic’s survival?
For Kolubah, the removal marked a personal and political turning point. Even those who dislike his style must wrestle with the precedent set by an illegal ouster. To many, the message was stark: “Thank you for your service, but challenging ‘city hall’ alone is futile. Pursuing the courts may prove to be a waste of time if political forces are aligned against him. The episode underscores how a representative can become his own worst enemy when loudness replaces discipline.
Historically, Kolubah’s removal will be remembered as a case where process and personality collided. The record shows a lawmaker who spoke without restraint, a Legislature that acted without clear legal footing, and a public debate that pitted national security against due process. Whether one views the outcome as a necessary defense of the Republic or a dangerous erosion of law, the chapter leaves Liberia with a cautionary tale about speech, power, and the limits of both.
