Africa’s reaction is concerning. I think we should as one reject Trump and all his works, but some of our leaders clearly have different ideas, as I recently discovered.
It began, as these things often do, with a 3.17 am ping. A WhatsApp notification. “Welcome, colleague!” said the message. No explanation. No context. Just a flurry of emojis: a lion, a briefcase, an American flag and, oddly, a MAGA hat.
I’d been added, accidentally, I assumed, to a WhatsApp group titled: “Strategic Africa-USA Relations: Massad Boulos Visit Official.” At first, I thought it was a political satire group or some sort of alumni reunion. But then I saw the participants.
There was President William Ruto of Kenya, President Yoweri Museveni of Uganda, President Paul Kagame of Rwanda and President Félix Tshisekedi of the Democratic Republic of Congo.
The four leaders who had recently hosted Massad Boulos, Donald Trump’s in-law (He is the Lebanese father-in-law of Trump's daughter Tiffany) and now his freshly minted Special Envoy to Africa.
Also in the group: Boulos himself, whose profile pic showed him standing next to a baobab tree with an expression that screamed, “I once negotiated a car dealership lease, and now I negotiate the fate of a continent.”
Boulos was on a whirlwind tour, blessing Africa with Trump’s latest geopolitical brainchild: the Day of Liberation Tariffs. This is a bold initiative to “liberate African economies from Chinese dependency and multilateral institutions, clearly intent on using good old-fashioned American business values (and a bit of nepotism).”
As you’d expect, the group chat was busy. Blink and you’d have missed several messages. Ruto sent a selfie with Boulos at State House Nairobi, captioned: “Deal sealed. Kenya to export avocados and faith-based fintech solutions to Florida. God is good!”
Museveni
chimed in shortly after: “Bazzukulu. We have agreed to name the new highway
‘Ivanka Expressway.’ It will connect our industrial park directly to Entebbe.
We’re serious now.”
Tshisekedi posted a blurry photo of Boulos in a hard hat and a kitenge shirt, standing in front of what appeared to be a cobalt mine. “He says we can finally bypass the IMF, just invoice directly to Trump Tower.”
Meanwhile, Kagame, ever efficient, dropped a single line: “Rwanda will pilot the MAGA Innovation Hub in Kigali. No further comment.”
The
conversation soon turned philosophical. Boulos typed: “It’s time Africa
embraced the American model. I’m living proof: you don’t need public service
experience if you marry into the right family.’”
The others agreed. Museveni sent a thumbs up, then added: “Nepotism is misunderstood. In Africa, we call it continuity. In the US, it’s called White House staffing.”
They debated the tariffs, too. Kenya's Prime CS Musalia Mudavadi briefly entered the chat to ask if the new tariffs on agricultural exports would hurt tea and coffee farmers.
Boulos replied: “Look, tariffs build character. Besides, once we launch the Liberty Farms partnership with Elon Musk, Kenyan tea will be served exclusively in Trump hotels.”
At
some point, someone uploaded a photo of a commemorative plaque: “This cobalt
reserve was visited by Massad Boulos on January 2025. MAGA Meets Mama
Africa.”
I tried to exit the group quietly. But then Boulos sent me a private message:
“Stay. Africa requires bold thinkers like you. Ever considered being a Special Envoy to Ohio?”
It was tempting. If all it takes to represent US foreign policy on a continent of 1.4 billion people is marrying into the Trump family tree, I, too, might be just one awkward wedding away from a diplomatic passport.
Eventually,
I muted the group. But not before one final message came through, a joint
declaration typed by Kagame: “We, the undersigned, welcome the Trump-Boulos
Doctrine: Diplomacy through DNA. May our children marry wisely.”
I saved the whole transcript. History will need it. Or at least my future Netflix special will.
