Stolen Suffering: Congo’s Pain Was Weaponized by Trump
Nothing could have prepared me for the France 24 English Truth or Fake segment, where they debunked Donald Trump’s claim of a so-called “white genocide” in South Africa. The photos Trump circulated as “proof” were actually taken in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC); images showing the aftermath of real violence, real atrocities. I had seen parts of his meeting with South African President Cyril Ramaphosa at the time, and while I didn’t catch the reference then, I still found the meeting demeaning to Africa. But after watching France 24’s exposé, I was more than insulted—I was furious.
The hypocrisy is hard to stomach. This is the same U.S. president who suspended asylum for most refugees. Yet, he had the gall to suggest that if a group were truly facing massacre or genocide, they deserved expedited protection, but clearly only if they were white. And to justify that stance, he exploited the imagery of Congolese victims, people who have actually been experiencing mass violence for decades. He used their bodies to support a myth that has been thoroughly debunked by reputable sources: there is no white genocide in South Africa.
As the Kiswahili proverb goes, asira ya masikini inaishiaka m’magoti, the anger of the poor ends in the knees. My outrage deepened when I saw the American public’s response. Many latched onto the BBC’s debunking, which focused on mocking Trump’s ignorance and lack of diplomatic etiquette. Few seemed to care about the actual horror—the fact that the suffering of Congolese people was being used as a political prop, stripped of context and dignity.
France 24’s investigation revealed that the disturbing image was taken in Goma, DRC. After M23 rebels seized the town, they released male inmates from the local prison, many of whom then attacked the nearby women’s prison, where they raped and burned the female prisoners alive. The Red Cross was left to collect the bodies, wrapping them for mass burial. This conflict has raged on for over 30 years, systematically displacing farmers and rural communities in what many recognize as a land-grabbing campaign. And after the January 2024 escalation, even regional African actors began to distance themselves. International NGOs pulled out. Aid workers vanished. There is no refugee fast track for these victims. No headline-grabbing outrage. No offers of sanctuary.
Who will be the God of these people?
Now, their burial shrouds are being used to prop up a dangerous false narrative about Afrikaner persecution. The world has turned its back on Congolese suffering; worse, it is laughing at it.
