Insolent: US President Donald Trump’s contempt for Africans is an intentional act of humiliation, designed to
denigrate them, strip them of dignity and exploit African leaders. Graphic: Supplied
America stands at war with its own ideals. When President Donald Trump reduces US citizens of Somali descent to ‘garbage,’ he does not merely hurl an insult; he desecrates the very architecture of the American experiment.
This republic was conceived as a sanctuary for the oppressed, a crucible where liberty and the pursuit of happiness were meant to transcend race, origin and creed. To spit upon that foundation with language steeped in contempt is not simply offensive; it is corrosive, a toxin that eats at the credibility of America’s moral posture at home and abroad.
The hypocrisy is staggering. A nation that brands itself as the champion of freedom and democracy simultaneously erects walls of exclusion: prohibitive visa regimes for African travellers, shrinking refugee quotas and accelerated deportations of African migrants, yet in the same breath, it parades itself as a benevolent broker of peace, smiling for cameras while tightening the screws of exclusion behind closed doors. This contradiction is intolerable and it demands confrontation.
Americans must awaken to the danger of allowing such rhetoric to calcify into the defining character of their president. Trump’s infamous “s***hole countries” remark was not an aberration; it was a foreshadowing, a declaration of contempt that metastasises into policy and public discourse. Silence in the face of the degradation is complicity.
Africans too, must scrutinise this hypocrisy. The shifting dynamics of global power reveal that Africa and other so-called “Third World” nations are no longer passive spectators in the theatre of international relations. They are emerging actors, wielding demographic strength, natural resources and strategic alliances that will shape the century to come.
To accept America’s double-faced diplomacy without critique is to surrender agency. The time has come for Africa to recognise the contradiction of America’s promise, to call it out and to recalibrate its engagement with a superpower that preaches liberty while practising exclusion.
Trump’s contempt for Africans is not a series of isolated gaffes; it is a deliberate, systemic posture. He ridiculed the Sierra Leonean president’s English, branded entire nations as “s***hole countries”, refused to grace Africa’s first G20 summit with his presence and then, with calculated arrogance, undermined President Cyril Ramaphosa’s leadership during the very 2025 G20 Summit he absconded. Now, he casually dismisses Somali-Americans as “garbage”. These are not slips of the tongue, nor the reckless spontaneity of an undisciplined speaker.
They are intentional acts of humiliation, designed to denigrate Africans and strip them of dignity while exploiting African leaders for hollow photo opportunities in Washington.
The paradox is grotesque and intolerable. In one breath, Trump vilifies Somali-Americans as garbage and in the next, he presides over a peace accord between Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), parading himself as a statesman. How can Africans accept peace brokered by a man who openly despises them? It is a charade, a diplomatic masquerade that reeks of hypocrisy.
To call Mogadishu “garbage” while extolling Botswana’s diamonds in the same sentence is not diplomacy; it is duplicity. It exposes a worldview that commodifies Africa’s resources while dehumanising its people. Africans must recognise this pattern of disrespect for what it is: a calculated strategy of domination cloaked in the language of partnership. To accept hypocrisy uncritically is to surrender agency in the global arena.
The time has come to confront this contradiction with intellectual ferocity, to demand respect not as charity but as a condition of engagement and to remind the world that Africa is not a prop in America’s theatre of power; it is a continent whose dignity is non-negotiable.
The Washington Accord is not a triumph of diplomacy; it is a symptom of Africa’s deeper malaise: the persistence of client states that cloak their domestic despotism in the veneer of Western approval. These regimes, eager to curry favour with Washington, sacrifice continental agency at the altar of foreign validation. Rwanda’s entanglement in the DRC’s affairs is not merely a matter of regional politics; it is a blatant violation of sovereignty and a destabilising force in Central Africa, yet, instead of confronting this reality with courage, African presidents bowed before Trump, legitimising his role as arbiter of African peace while surrendering their own authority.
The spectacle of former President Uhuru Kenyatta’s attendance at the signing, coupled with the discreet meeting between Presidents William Ruto and Paul Kagame, exposes the selfish calculus of African leadership. These leaders prioritise private bargains with Western powers over the collective dignity and independence of the continent. This betrayal of unity is not new; it is a recurring pattern that has long undermined Africa’s quest for self-determination, leaving the continent fractured and vulnerable to external manipulation.
Supporters of Kenyatta, however, interpret his presence differently. They hail it as a reaffirmation of Kenya’s enduring role in regional stability, citing his mediation efforts as instrumental in fostering dialogue, easing tensions and guiding Rwanda and the DRC toward a fragile peace.
To them, such moments embody the value of consistent, principled diplomacy and underscore Kenya’s reputation as a trusted broker in East Africa.
This duality must be interrogated. Is Kenyatta’s presence a symbol of principled diplomacy or does it serve as another mask, an attempt to legitimise a peace process orchestrated under the shadow of Trump’s disdain for Africans?
The contradiction is glaring: African leaders celebrate symbolic victories while ignoring the structural humiliation of outsourcing their agency to a foreign power that openly disrespects them. Until Africa confronts this hypocrisy head-on, the continent will remain trapped in the cycle of dependency, its sovereignty compromised and its dignity perpetually deferred.
The declaration by US Secretary of State Marco Rubio that Washington will no longer bankroll what he derisively calls the ‘NGO industrial complex’ while sidelining close partners like Kenya exposes the raw mechanics of America’s selective favouritism. Aid is not charity; it is weaponised leverage. Influence is rationed like a commodity, dispensed to those who bend to Washington’s dictates and in the process, African self-esteem is systematically eroded, reduced to dependency rather than dignity.
Why must African heads of state deliberate on continental matters in foreign capitals, under the watchful gaze of leaders who openly insult them? Why must Africa’s destiny be negotiated in Washington or Brussels rather than in Addis Ababa or Johannesburg? This is not a partnership; it is subjugation dressed in diplomatic theatre.
Trump’s consistent actions reveal a deliberate wedge driven between Pretoria and the African Union, a calculated attempt to fracture continental solidarity and weaken Africa’s collective voice. The pattern is unmistakable: divide, demean and dominate. Africans must confront this reality with unflinching clarity.
The question is not rhetorical; it is existential. What does it mean for our dignity when we tolerate insults in exchange for aid or diplomatic recognition? What does it say about our sovereignty when we accept crumbs of influence while our leaders are paraded as props in America’s geopolitical drama? Until Africa refuses to barter respect for resources, until it asserts its agency without apology, the continent will remain trapped in the cycle of humiliation, its independence compromised by the very powers that claim to champion freedom.
Faced with brazen acts of disrespect, Africans must rise with uncompromising resolve to salvage their dignity and moral compass. The psychological violence of being branded ‘garbage’ while simultaneously being courted for peace deals is not a trivial insult; it is a calculated humiliation designed to fracture self-worth and perpetuate dependency.
Such assaults cannot be normalised nor can they be brushed aside as mere rhetoric. They strike at the core of Africa’s identity and sovereignty.
Unlike the US, which cloaks its disdain in the language of partnership, emerging powers such as China and India engage Africa with a measure of respect.These nations may pursue their own interests, but they do not demean Africans in the process. They recognise Africa as a partner, not a subject and therein lies the contrast. America’s selective contempt exposes its colonial hangover, while others at least acknowledge Africa’s dignity in the calculus of global power.
The lesson is unambiguous: Africa must re-examine its foreign relations with domineering superpowers that exploit weakness and insult pride. Africans must act decisively to preserve dignity to reject the colonial-era posture of being treated as subjects. The future demands a radical transformation of psyche, a new consciousness that places African dignity at the forefront of negotiation, alliance and policy. This is not merely about diplomacy; it is about survival. The continent must cultivate unity, harness its demographic strength and assert its sovereignty with intellectual ferocity. Salvaging African dignity is not optional; it is the precondition for independence in the 21st century.
The Somali insult is not a solitary wound; it is a continental laceration, a direct assault on the collective dignity of Africa. To tolerate it is to betray the sacred principle of ‘Injure One, Injure All’.
Every African must understand that disrespect, insults and indignity are not negotiable. Respect is not a privilege to be begged for; it is a fundamental tenet of human rights, the minimum of any relationship between nations. Africans have endured centuries of humiliation, but indignity cannot and must not define the future.
The youth of Africa, who represent the continent’s greatest demographic power, must awaken to this truth: their generation cannot inherit the chains of insult and subjugation. They must refuse to normalise contempt, refuse to kneel before superpowers whose leaders behave like jailhouse bullies and 19th century bigots with uncouth tongues.
The time has come for Africa to say NO, no to peace summits brokered by those who despise us, no to aid conditioned on humiliation, no to diplomacy that strips us of agency.
African leaders must now answer the call of agency. They must function as a collective, in unison, to confront their own problems on their own continent. Fragmentation is betrayal; selfish bargains with foreign powers are treason against the collective dignity of Africa. The message must be unmistakable: gone are the days when Africans were treated as inferior underlings. The future is different. The future is African and the dignity of the people is non-negotiable.
Wellington Muzengeza is a political risk analyst and urban strategist offering incisive insight on urban planning, infrastructure, leadership succession and governance reform across Africa’s evolving post-liberation urban landscapes.