Reading news about Ebola is usually a study in sadness: another case, another death. Lather, rinse, repeat.

But the news hasn’t been so gloomy of late. New cases are at an all-time low, the UN officially ended its Ebola mission late last month, and an experimental Ebola vaccine just showed signs of working. All good news.

Then I saw this.

August 1. The New York Times. “Palm Oil Company Is Accused of Exploiting Liberia’s Ebola Crisis.”

For crying out loud... Why do even I bother following this story anymore? The people of Ebola-ravaged West Africa just can’t seem to catch a break.

Here’s the deal: According to a new report from Global Witness, a natural resource watchdog group, a palm oil company in Liberia saw the Ebola outbreak as an opportunity to grow its business by convincing locals to sign away their rights to thousands of acres of farmland—all while the country was reeling, large public gatherings were forbidden, and local nonprofits were too busy responding to Ebola to help locals make sense of the deal.

The report further alleges that the company, Golden Veroleum, enlisted the help of powerful local politicians to “harass communities into signing away their land and crush dissent.”

All told, the company laid claim to more than 33,000 acres of land between August and October 2014, when the Ebola outbreak was nearing its peak, effectively doubling the size of its holdings.

Watch this video Global Witness released alongside the report to hear from local people who claim to have experienced abuse firsthand:

As sleazy business tactics go, I’d say using the outbreak of a deadly virus as cover while you sidestep the opposition and bolster your bottom line is as bad as they come.

Golden Veroleum is of course denying it harassed anyone or broke any laws. The company states its expansion plans were in the works well before Ebola hit, and that it even scaled back its plans in light of the outbreak.

But by its own admission, we know the company held at least one meeting of over 100 locals during the crisis to discuss the terms of a land transfer. That alone casts serious doubts on the company’s intentions. Remember, Liberia banned public gatherings in an attempt to stop the spread of the virus, which thrives on human contact.

To be fair, Golden Veroleum says it did follow “necessary Ebola precautions” like “providing latex gloves” and “Ebola prevention posters,” among other things.

But really, Golden Veroleum? Did you honestly think a box of gloves and some pamphlets would get you off the hook? Here’s how I imagine that conversation going:

Locals: “Golden Veroleum, our country is grappling with the worst Ebola outbreak in history!”

Golden Veroleum: “Such a pity! We’re still on for Tuesday though, right? Fantastic. If you could just get the whole town together in a room and tell everyone to forget about their dying loved ones for a minute, we’ll proceed as planned. Oh, and if everyone could wear these gloves we’ve so generously donated, that would be great. We wouldn’t want anyone getting sick, now would we?”

In all seriousness, though, this story really gets my blood boiling. Because even if Golden Veroleum did everything right and Ebola had nothing to do with anything, there’s still a bigger question that needs addressing: is all this palm oil production good for local communities to begin with?

More often than not, the answer is no. Companies like Golden Veroleum routinely promise jobs and development in exchange for resources, but their actions often do local communities more harm than good.

Case in point: as Sam Jackson, a Liberian economist, told the Times, “Liberia is chronically food insecure, yet major investment has been in nonfood agriculture like rubber and palm oil.” That means that every acre of land Golden Veroleum claims is one less acre that could be feeding the people of Liberia.  

And as my colleague Jill explained recently, this isn’t only happening in Liberia: palm oil companies are grabbing land and displacing people in places like Indonesia and Malaysia, too.  

That’s what I call a bad deal.

If this whole thing frustrates you as much as it does me, consider supporting groups like Global Witness who bring these stories to light. And if you’re worried the palm oil-based products you buy (à la Nutella) might be unethically sourced, there are plenty of online resources that can point you in the direction of sustainable palm oil.