A warehouse at the Salala Rubber Corp. plantation in Liberia, in November 2024. (Photo: Etinosa Yvonne for Bloomberg)Bloomberg | 16 April 2025
The Rubber Barons: Sex for work allegations hang over Socfin plantations supplying top tiremakers
By Sheridan Prasso, Benoit Berthelot and Gaspard Sebag Photography by Etinosa Yvonne for Bloomberg
From the air, the Liberian Agricultural Co. rubber plantation spreads like a green carpet over an area twice the size of Chicago. On the ground, more than 4,000 workers toil amid rows of trees, cutting bark, tapping in spigots and collecting the latex that drips into cups and will ultimately be turned into tires in Europe and the US.
It’s grueling work, especially in West Africa’s heat and humidity, and it pays only $5.50 a day. That’s for those lucky enough to get a full-time job. Contract workers, many of them women, are paid even less. And they face repeated demands from supervisors for sex.
“I said, ‘No, I don’t want you because I have my husband,’” says a rubber tapper named Rebecca, wriggling uncomfortably in a chair at a guesthouse in Buchanan, a three-hour drive from the plantation. Tiny crosses dangle from her ears as she shakes her head, describing the humiliation involved in securing a day’s work. “He told me this, ‘Since you not agree, I will not assign you.’”
Rebecca, who asked to be identified by a pseudonym to avoid retribution, says the requests for sex are incessant. Seven other women who worked at plantations in Liberia and Ghana owned by the same company, Luxembourg-based Socfin Group, told similar stories to Bloomberg News during visits in November. Most of them asked that their real names not be used. But eight more people — including a retired schoolteacher and community advocates — spoke on the record about hearing directly from women who said they were able to work only in exchange for sex.
Audits done for Socfin, some as recently as this year, have found credible evidence of sexual harassment, in some cases including rape, at six other company plantations in Sierra Leone and Cameroon. And that’s after more than a decade of efforts by activist groups to expose such practices and subsequent promises by Socfin to toughen sexual harassment policies.
Allegations of sexual coercion aren’t the only issues hanging over the company. Lawsuits and complaints have accused Socfin of appropriating farmland, destroying villages, causing environmental damage and violating labor rights. At the Salala Rubber Corp. plantation in Liberia, which Socfin sold in August, cultivation was halted after workers set fire to two buildings and looted a warehouse during a strike earlier last year over squalid housing, onerous labor conditions and inadequate medical care.
Socfin, whose archipelago of rubber and palm oil plantations is scattered across 10 countries in Africa and Southeast Asia, is co-owned by Belgian businessman Hubert Fabri and billionaire Vincent Bolloré, one of the richest men in France and the largest shareholder in entertainment conglomerate Vivendi SE. The company, whose roots trace back to Belgium’s colonial empire in Africa, sells rubber to French tiremaker Michelin in the US and Europe, as well as to Bridgestone Corp. and Continental AG, according to import and export data reviewed by Bloomberg. Its palm oil is sent to suppliers that sell it to companies including Nestlé SE, which uses it in food products.
Pressure from Nestlé and other customers prompted Socfin to take additional measures to fortify its sustainability policy. In 2016, it started working with the Earthworm Foundation, a Swiss nonprofit, to develop social responsibility guidelines.
Those efforts increased as laws were adopted in several European countries to hold corporations responsible for environmental, labor and human rights violations in their supply chains. A European Union directive scheduled to go into effect in 2027 would allow regulators to fine violators more than 5% of annual revenue.
“There is a growing sense of urgency in our interactions with the company, and we feel they are taking these matters seriously,” says Jotica Sehgal, a spokesperson for Earthworm, which works with Nestlé, Colgate-Palmolive, Cargill and other multinational companies. Its audits of conditions at eight Socfin plantations, including three completed this year, determined that allegations of sexual abuse were “founded.”
Socfin, which has not disputed Earthworm’s findings, says it has taken steps to address sexual harassment, including setting up gender committees and strengthening policies through a series of action plans. Ludovic Saint-Pol, a spokesperson for the company, said in an email that Socfin has “a deep-seated commitment and drive to uphold the highest sustainability standards.” That commitment, the spokesperson said, “may sometimes be misunderstood as ‘a sense of urgency,’ but it is simply our dedication to continuous improvement.” Socfin said it has obtained numerous environmental certifications “clearly demonstrating our investment in sustainability and quality.”
Yet some problems, including sexual coercion and disputes over land rights, remain, workers and their advocates say. The company set up gender committees at several plantations to handle complaints. It put up “No Sex for Job” and “No Sexual Harassment” signs in Liberia. But the committees were largely inoperative, the Earthworm audits found. And the warnings have done little to protect tappers like Rebecca.
Posting signs was part of Socfin's plan to curb sexual violence against women at the Salala plantation.
Sitting in the guesthouse in Buchanan, she describes a yearslong battle fending off demands for sex. She needs the work to feed her kids and pay their fees at the company-run school, and the plantation is the only employer around. But because she’s a contract worker, not a full-time employee, job protections are minimal. She also earns less — about $3.50 a day, she says — and pays more in school fees.
Rebecca says that when she tried complaining, she was ignored. She’s on her own when it comes to avoiding her supervisors’ advances.
“More than,” Rebecca says when asked if it happened more than 10 times.
Fifty?
“More than,” she repeats.
How many times?
“Every day.”
Socfin, short for Société Financière des Caoutchoucs, got its start in the Belgian Congo in the 1890s during the rule of King Leopold II. Its founder, a Belgian agronomist, helped establish plantations in Malaysia and Indonesia before selling the company after World War I to France’s Rivaud Group, which had its own operations in Indochina. In the 1980s, when Fabri took over running Socfin from his father, the company had dozens of holdings around the world.
Bolloré got involved in 1988, when he bought a 30% stake in Rivaud. The scion of a 200-year-old Brittany-based paper-manufacturing dynasty, Bolloré earned a reputation as a talented financier and corporate raider. Using his holding company, Bolloré SE, he built an empire that now includes minority stakes in broadcasting company Canal+, ad agency Havas and Universal Music Group NV. Bold bets on Lazard, Ubisoft Entertainment and Bouygues helped him amass a fortune that the Bloomberg Billionaires Index estimates at about $9 billion.
He also expanded the family business into a global network of factories, warehouses, railways and ports that he later sold to help fund his media stakes. Bolloré boasted at one point that he not only produced rubber in Africa and shipped it to Europe but also returned it to the continent in the form of Michelin tires.
In France, where he owns newspapers, radio stations and TV channels, Bolloré is known as a national version of Rupert Murdoch: a media mogul comfortable using his outlets to exert political influence. As his holdings have expanded, they’ve pushed an increasingly conservative and Catholic agenda, including anti-abortion programming and broadcasts of masses. During the 2022 presidential election, his CNews channel propelled the campaign of Éric Zemmour, a former TV commentator and far-right pundit who has written that French colonialism was a positive force in Africa.
Rivaud, which controlled more than 100 companies, faced a tax probe in the 1990s and the collapse of its airline. As recounted in a biography of the French tycoon, Bolloré and Fabri convinced Rivaud’s board that Edouard de Ribes, the head of the group, was responsible for the airline’s failure and that directors could be held liable if they continued to back him. De Ribes was forced to resign, clearing the way for Bolloré to buy his stake at a price that would later look like a bargain. Fabri remained head of Socfin, and the men have been partners and allies ever since, appointing each other, and their sons, to the boards of companies under their control. Fabri and his sons declined to be interviewed for this story.
Socfin expanded, starting in the 1990s, obtaining concessions in Nigeria, Ivory Coast, Liberia, Ghana and Cameroon. But it remains a small player in an industry where most of the world’s natural rubber comes from Southeast Asia — Michelin says the company provides less than 1% of its supply. Still, it is the only major European rubber and palm-oil producer in Africa that has been around since the colonial era. Its employment of more than 50,000 full-time and contract workers makes it critical to the economies of many countries. In Liberia, where rubber accounts for about two-thirds of exports, it’s the second-largest producer after Bridgestone subsidiary Firestone.
Trade data provided to Bloomberg by Sayari, a Washington-based risk management and supply-chain analysis company, show that Michelin bought more rubber from Socfin’s Liberian Agricultural Co. plantation (LAC) last year than any other tiremaker — about 20% of the total output Sayari was able to track. Continental and Bridgestone each received about 10%. The data capture about 60% of LAC’s total output, which includes rubber from Socfin’s Salala plantation that had been processed at LAC until the production halt and sale last year.
All three tiremakers say they have participated in initiatives to improve conditions at Socfin plantations. A spokesperson for Michelin said the company could have stopped buying rubber from Socfin, but “it was decided to maintain the business relationship with the aim of using Michelin’s power of influence to change.” The spokesperson said Michelin was not aware of the sex-for-work allegations, even though they were acknowledged in action plans published on Socfin’s website. That position was echoed by Chief Executive Officer Florent Menegaux, who told Bloomberg in February, “If I were aware of things like that, we would stop buying from that source.”
A spokesperson for Tokyo-based Bridgestone said the company only learned of sex-for-work allegations in 2022. “Since then,” the spokesperson said, “Bridgestone has met with Socfin on a regular basis to receive progress reports on investigations and, where appropriate, corrective actions.” A spokesperson for Continental said the German tiremaker expects suppliers to follow its commitments to sustainability and, “if business partners fail to comply, Continental reserves the right to request improvement measures or to terminate the business relationship.”
Bolloré sold his African logistics operations in 2022, the same year he announced what French media labeled a “pseudo-retirement.” He had already named his son Cyrille CEO of Bolloré SE, but he continued to control the company, which remains a minority shareholder in Socfin with a stake of about 35%. “We don’t manage the plantations,” Bolloré told French lawmakers that year. “We inherited a stake, but have never operated there.”
The 73-year-old billionaire and his son occupy two of Socfin’s five board seats, and also sit on the boards of two other group companies, Socfinaf and Socfinasia, with Fabri and his two sons. Bolloré has also sat at the front of the room with Fabri at the company’s annual meetings.
He has kept his stake despite more than a decade of criticism over Socfin’s labor and environmental practices, even though its value is only a rounding error in any calculation of his wealth. A spokesperson for Bolloré SE declined to comment for this story, as did Vincent and Cyrille Bolloré.
“It is a reminder of one of his best business moves,” says Renaud Lecadre, one of the authors of the Bolloré biography, referring to the Rivaud takeover. “He has been holding on to it like a talisman.”
“I’ve seen it right in front of me,” says Mamie, a former worker at the Salala plantation in Liberia, known as SRC, describing how she came across a manager forcing a woman to have sex in the bush. Now, she says, the woman cowers in shame when they run into each other.
Mamie, who also asked that she not be identified by her real name, is sitting in the garden of a guesthouse in Kakata, about a 30-minute drive from SRC. In her 40s and wearing a traditional dress, she recalls how her supervisor came to her house with a gun one night while her husband was away. She says she fought him off, and when she refused to have sex with him at work the next day, he sent her home without pay. The day after, she says, he pushed her against a fence at the plantation and raped her. “I was forced to accept him,” she says. “To keep your job going, you have to accept.”
Demands for sex were an open secret at SRC, former workers say. Rubber tappers had to meet collection quotas and also clean the cups they use to collect the latex. Many hired women for about $15 a month to help, making the cup cleaners beholden to men who might not pay them — or ask for sex. One cup cleaner says she quit after nine months because a tapper kept coming up behind her and molesting her, and then wouldn’t pay her when she rebuffed his advances.
In 2019, Socfin set up a gender committee to field reports of sexual harassment. Mary Boimah, a committee member and president of the Salala Agricultural Workers Union, says that while everybody knew women routinely faced sexual coercion, the gender committee couldn’t convince a single female employee to make a formal complaint or identify any perpetrators.
Boimah cited a worker who was sued for defamation after she stood up at a community meeting and said she had been impregnated by a supervisor who forced her to have sex. He dropped the case after she got a lawyer. But now no women will name their aggressors, says Paul Larry George, chairman of the Alliance for Rural Democracy, a Liberian nonprofit that helped the woman find legal representation.
“They’re afraid somebody will sue them, and their name will be spread on the plantation, in every community,” George says. “They’re going to have a stigma on them probably for the rest of their lifetime, as long as they live in the community.”
Problems at SRC weren’t limited to sexual abuse. Housing conditions and frustration with management created additional stress for workers already under pressure to comply with increases in their latex quotas, Boimah says. Nearly 80% of the company’s 800 workers were classified as contractors, which meant they had to pay more for rice and school tuition than full-time employees.
Poor access to medical care was also an issue. Boimah says one of the union’s demands was for better ambulance services on the 30-square-mile plantation. (Socfin acknowledged that SRC’s ambulance experienced mechanical issues in March 2024, before the strike, but said it had a pickup truck available in emergencies.) “They carried on their bad labor practices for a long time,” Boimah says. “They refused to improve the living conditions of our people.”
Last June, anger boiled over when dozens of workers set the SRC office on fire, then torched the home of the plantation manager. Boimah, who was in Monrovia at the time meeting with a legislator, was arrested upon her return and charged with criminal conspiracy. She denies having played any role in the attacks, or knowing about the workers’ plans ahead of time, but she spent more than a month in jail before being released on bail. She was rearrested in March and is awaiting trial.
A 2023 Earthworm audit found credible evidence of sexual harassment, unfair labor practices and restricting access to sacred land at SRC. Socfin and Earthworm came up with an action plan to address those issues, but by the end of that year, the company decided to sell the plantation. Socfin’s spokesperson said the sale was “a strategic business decision and not a response to any specific issues raised in the Earthworm report.” The company attributed the move to weak profitability and low rubber prices. Despite the sale, completed in August, Socfin said it will continue to advise the new owner during a one-year transition period and is still committed to implementing the action plan.
Earthworm has conducted audits and interviewed hundreds of workers at eight Socfin plantations where there have been reports of gender-based violence or harassment. At all of them, it determined that those allegations were founded. A 2023 audit of a Socfin palm-oil plantation in Cameroon documented reports of rape and harassment of female employees by their male supervisors or counterparts. An investigation in Sierra Leone found 34% of women working at a Socfin plantation there reported demands for sex or faced acts of retribution for refusing.
Workers and villagers interviewed by Bloomberg at Socfin plantations in Liberia and Ghana all spoke about sexual coercion despite the taboos around doing so. At Plantations Socfinaf Ghana, known as PSG, which hasn’t been audited, women report similar pressures.
“When he says, ‘I want you,’ you have to leave during the shift to go have sex in the bush,” says Grace Nketia, dishing out fried yams to a steady stream of customers at the roadside stand she operates with her husband not far from the plantation, about a four-hour drive west of Accra. “You can’t count the number, because it’s daily.” She says she worked much harder and made less money during her five years slashing vegetation at PSG than women who agreed to the demands, and that she’s much happier now, not having to fend off supervisors.
On three occasions, a priest from a nearby village held purification rituals involving goat sacrifices along a stream at the Ghana plantation after women were coerced into sex, residents who attended told Bloomberg.
At the LAC plantation in Liberia, retired schoolteacher Nathaniel Monway says he knows of at least 75 women who complained about being denied work if they didn’t agree to sex. Monway has taken on an advocacy role, partly because his scratch of a village, Gbanfeintown, was among a dozen communities destroyed or moved when Socfin expanded cultivation in 2004, taking over farmland and ancestors’ gravesites. He says his family owned more than 600 rubber trees and received just half their value.
New Gbanfeintown sits on what used to be the village’s farmland, so now its residents, who live in mud-walled, thatch-roofed homes, have nowhere to grow cassava and must rent plots far away. Monway says he wants to speak out on the women’s behalf because most of them are powerless and poor and have nowhere else to go for work.
“They are afraid,” Monway says, sitting in the shade of a grove of rubber trees on the edge of New Gbanfeintown. Not only are women denied work and accused of lying if they speak up, he says, but because everyone lives inside the gated concession — where the company oversees education and medical care — there are risks of retribution.
Issues of sexual abuse at Socfin plantations started coming to international attention more than a decade ago. In 2013, after protests over inadequate compensation for lost crops erupted at SRC, a Liberian nonprofit documented the loss of land and the desecration of sacred sites and gathered reports from women who said they were forced to engage in sex to keep their jobs.
In 2019, members of 22 communities filed a complaint with the World Bank’s International Finance Corp., or IFC, which had loaned SRC $10 million to spur economic growth after Liberia’s civil war. The complaint said Socfin had displaced residents from land they had held for generations without adequate compensation and destroyed sacred sites. It also alleged sexual abuse.
Socfin said in a statement that year that the sex abuse allegations seemed to be unfounded because none had been reported to law enforcement authorities. But the IFC found the complaints credible and recommended remediation. Socfin objected, questioning the investigation’s legitimacy and impartiality, and the matter was referred to the IFC’s ombudsman to review whether the loan violated the fund’s standards. In the meantime, Socfin paid off its loan. The company now says Earthworm looked into the same issues and developed an action plan to address the concerns.
In March, the ombudsman issued a final report that chastised the IFC for failing to adhere to its own standards and said it would finance a community development fund to help those harmed by SRC’s actions.
Around the time of the IFC complaint, Fiodor Rilov, a French lawyer with a background in labor cases, made his first visit to Socfin’s Kienké palm-tree plantation in Cameroon. That was four years before it was certified to be in compliance with internationally recognized environmental standards, and he recalls villagers telling him about chemicals being dumped into rivers, killing fish and rendering the water undrinkable. Downriver from the refinery, he says, the water was “blackish, with a filthy foam swarming on the surface.”
With the help of a local organization, he collected water samples and had them analyzed by the government health ministry’s Centre Pasteur du Cameroun. One sample taken in January 2020 from a river before it reached the refinery was judged “unpolluted,” according to court documents. Another, collected downstream, was determined to be “unfit for most uses and can constitute a threat to public health and the environment.”
Rilov planned to go after Bolloré’s holding company using a 2017 French duty of vigilance law, the first of its kind in Europe, that made it possible to sue large companies for alleged environmental or human rights abuses within their supply chains, even at units thousands of miles away. But to do so, he would have to prove that Bolloré SE, despite being a minority shareholder, exercised control over Socfin.
Rilov was already using the duty of vigilance law to sue in France on behalf of villagers living near a Socfin rubber plantation in Cambodia who claimed their land had been taken without compensation or their consent. “No one had ever imagined that victims halfway around the world — and without means — would use this law to sue for damages in France,” he says. The case was thrown out because the Cambodians had failed to properly document their rights to the land, a decision Rilov is currently appealing.
Two years after returning from Cameroon, in 2021, Rilov initiated legal proceedings in France against Bolloré SE and Socfin on behalf of 145 people who said their communities had been damaged. Bolloré’s holding company has challenged the case on the grounds that the water testing was imprecise and the documentation presented by villagers incomplete. Bolloré SE also noted it was just a minority shareholder. Socfin declined to comment about ongoing litigation.
It wasn’t the first time Bolloré’s company had been sued over Cameroon. In 2019, a group of nongovernmental organizations filed a lawsuit in a French court seeking to force Socfin to implement an action plan agreed to years earlier to curb violence allegedly committed by security guards there. (That case, which Socfin also declined to comment about, is still pending.)
One of the groups was the Belgian chapter of FIAN International, a nonprofit focused on food security that had also published reports about a Socfin plantation in Sierra Leone, accusing the company of violating land rights. Florence Kroff, a coordinator at FIAN Belgium, had bought one share of Socfin’s publicly traded stock. In 2019, she stood up at the company’s annual meeting in Luxembourg and calmly confronted Fabri and Bolloré, a video of the encounter shows.
Fabri was dismissive, saying the plan in Cameroon had no legal value and that Kroff was wrong about Sierra Leone. Within months, Socfin sued Kroff, FIAN and several other organizations and their employees for defamation, citing a series of social media posts and reports. In all, Socfin and Bolloré SE have brought cases against at least 50 journalists and nonprofit groups, most of which have been lost, withdrawn or dismissed.
A Luxembourg court dismissed the case against FIAN in October, saying there were no grounds to prosecute. But Kroff estimates that she and the organization spent more than €60,000 ($68,000) defending themselves over five years. “From the beginning, Socfin has been a really aggressive multinational toward every critical voice,” says Kroff, who visited the Sierra Leone plantation in 2018.
A spokesperson for Socfin said the company takes legal action “only as a last resort” in instances where “facts stated in an article are blatantly incorrect.” The spokesperson declined to comment on lawsuits initiated by Bolloré SE.
In 2023, an association of Swiss pension funds recommended that its members divest from Bolloré’s companies and refrain from further investing on the grounds that the billionaire had failed to ensure that Socfin implement its human rights guidelines. Then, last April, the ethics council of the $1.4 trillion Norwegian sovereign wealth fund advised it to divest from Bolloré’s holding companies after finding labor rights violations, including rape and sexual harassment, and land disputes, at the company’s plantations in Cameroon. It cited reports of similar abuses at plantations in Liberia and Sierra Leone.
“Bolloré should have sufficient influence to improve the situation at the plantations if the company so wished,” the fund’s ethics council wrote in a public statement. The fund overrode the council’s recommendation in June, deciding that engagement via “active ownership” was the best way forward. It said in a report published in February that it had met with Bolloré SE to push for specific measures to improve Socfin’s practices.
Bolloré has insisted he has no influence over Socfin’s management. To try to prove otherwise, Rilov got a court to force the company to hand over confidential minutes of its annual meetings. If judges determine these documents show Bolloré repeatedly acted in concert with Fabri to appoint board members, Rilov says, that would constitute control under French law and make the billionaire liable for harms ultimately attributed to Socfin.
There may be less transparency into Socfin’s operations going forward. Last September, Fabri and Bolloré took Socfin’s listed Luxembourg company private after combining their shares – 95% in all – pulling a curtain around its inner workings. Minority shareholders like Kroff were forced to sell and will no longer have an opportunity to question management at annual meetings. Socfin, in its emailed response, described the move as offering minority shareholders a way out of an illiquid stock and said it wouldn’t have “any impact on the level of scrutiny from civil societies or any other party.”
Last year the EU adopted a law with the most powerful measures yet for policing supply chains. Under the Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence Directive, known as CSDDD, member states must strengthen or pass national laws by 2027 that will impose penalties including fines to hold corporations responsible for eliminating environmental, labor and human rights violations at any stage of their operations. (The deadline may be pushed out a year and some reporting requirements reduced if another proposal introduced in February is passed.)
People anywhere in the world will have the right to compensation if they can prove in an EU court that a company intentionally or negligently failed to stop harmful activity. “The CSDDD is the first law of its kind, worldwide, to introduce concrete obligations for companies to operate sustainably,” says Hélène de Rengervé, senior advocate for corporate accountability at Human Rights Watch in Brussels. Key to its impact, she said, is granting people at the end of supply chains the right to sue in the EU.
Socfin’s palm-tree plantations, including PSG in Ghana and Kienké in Cameroon, are certified by the Roundtable on Sustainable Palm Oil, a designation meant to ensure that its products are made without deforestation, land burning or harming endangered species, and that workers are subject to fair labor practices. Consumer brands including Nestlé require RSPO certification of all their suppliers. (Nestlé stopped receiving direct supply from Socfin in Cameroon in 2023. It still gets palm oil from intermediaries that buy from plantations where there haven't been allegations of sexual harassment.) “Supplier engagement is a core part of our responsible sourcing approach,” the company said in a statement.
A tougher EU deforestation rule will go into effect at the end of this year. It requires companies to guarantee that many products and commodities, including rubber and palm oil, meet sustainability standards and make that information available throughout their supply chains. It also obliges them to prove they’re in compliance or face fines and import bans.
Earthworm says that in the years it has been working with Socfin, the company has improved transparency, expanded its sustainability team, trained staff on grievance management and gained environmental certifications. At the same time, the organization’s spokesperson says, a 2023 audit led to “recognition of the need for more changes by Socfin on deeper systemic issues like sexual harassment.”
At the Salala plantation, renamed Jeety Rubber by its new owner, some improvements have already been made. Upjit Singh Sachdeva, an Indian businessman who has lived in Liberia for more than two decades, restarted operations there in October.
Since taking over, Sachdeva has renovated the school and begun serving free lunches to workers’ children. He ordered a new ambulance, restocked the medical clinic with drugs and started refurbishing dilapidated worker housing. He says he eliminated quotas for tappers, implemented a bonus system and changed the status of cup washers. They now get $100 a month — an $85 raise. Sachdeva will not criticize Socfin’s previous management, but he concedes that changes were needed. “As a new owner, I wanted to uplift from where I picked up,” he says, walking through rows of rubber trees at the plantation in November.
Sachdeva says he isn’t aware of reports of sexual abuse or harassment and hasn’t read Earthworm’s audit or the IFC report, but he says he’s committed to Socfin’s action plan. He plans to leave the “No Sexual Harassment” signs. “Past is past,” Sachdeva says. “I’m prepared to talk about present and future.”
Rilov is also looking ahead. He sued Socfin and Bolloré SE for damages last month after returning from another visit to Cameroon, where more people stepped forward with allegations of land-grabbing and sexual abuse, including one woman who said she was raped by a guard in 2023. A hearing in the case is scheduled for June.
At LAC, Socfin’s only remaining plantation in Liberia, Rebecca says she wants to see supervisors who constantly ask for sex be dismissed. She wants to be able to work with dignity and for decent pay. She would also like the company to listen to its workers.
“I know we’re poor, they got big people there, so when we’re talking they can say the poor are lying,” says Rebecca. “We don’t have anybody to speak for us.”