By Gillian Schutte
A stand-up sermon for the geopolitically confused.
You have to laugh at the West.
After centuries of invasion, extraction, assassinations, coups, sanctions, military bases, debt traps, media lies and moral lectures delivered with a straight face, they now stand up in 2026 and say: “Africa, beware of foreign influence.”
Foreign influence?
From whom?
Russia?
The same West that colonised half the planet has suddenly discovered consent. A bit like a burglar giving a TED Talk on home security, innit?
Wellington Muzengeza’s Mail & Guardian article on Russia and Africa follows this script. Russia is presented as the suspicious man in the alley. The West, somehow, is the neighbourhood watch. Africa is told to panic because Moscow has arrived with media, diplomacy, scholarships, perhaps some efficient nuclear energy and upgraded political messaging.
But Africans are not children. They know why Russia resonates.
It is memory.
The Soviet Union stood with liberation movements when the West was still calling our freedom fighters terrorists and communists. The West was selling weapons, protecting settler regimes, shaking hands with apartheid’s friends and explaining oppression through “stability”. Russia did not have to invent solidarity yesterday. There is a reason old comrades still speak about Moscow with warmth. There is a reason liberation history remembers who opened doors when others locked them.
Now the West is not only peddling the green energy lie. It is green with envy because Africa remembers. It wants Africa locked into perpetual resource theft, and it wants historical amnesia on command. Washington wants Africans to forget Libya. Forget Iraq. Forget Palestine. Forget sanctions. Forget IMF discipline. Forget French control in West Africa. Forget NATO expansion. Forget AFRICOM. Forget the long sermon of democracy delivered by people who arrive with soldiers, consultants and oil companies.
Then they wonder why African youth are sceptical.
Apparently, if a young African distrusts Washington, a Russian bot must have entered the room.
No. Empire’s stinking history entered the room.
The West has spent decades demonising Russia. Hollywood gave us the Russian villain so many times that even the accent became evidence. Russian scientist? Dangerous. Russian diplomat? Lying. Russian journalist? Propagandist. Russian athlete? Suspicious. Russian media? Disinformation. Russian memory? Nostalgia. Russian security concern? Paranoia. Russian grief? Strategy.
This is the media version of NATO.
NATO surrounds you militarily. Western media surrounds you morally. One moves troops and missiles. The other moves language and suspicion. Together they create the common enemy. Together they teach the public who to fear before the evidence is even on the table. Why wait for evidence when suspicion can be mass-produced across a thousand propaganda platforms?
But when Russia opens media offices in Africa, the West screams: propaganda.
Really?
BBC has been here forever. CNN has narrated Africa through famine, warlords and fly-covered children for decades. Reuters and AFP have mediated African reality for the globe since before most African states had stable national broadcasters. Western think tanks issue reports on us like school principals marking naughty children.
But Sputnik arrives and suddenly empire needs an emergency colon cleanse.
Russia is also accused of reputational repair.
Of course Russia wants reputational repair. Who would not, after decades of being turned into the global villain by the loudest media machine in history? Must Russia sit quietly forever while Washington writes its biography? Must Moscow accept defamation because Hollywood said so?
Russia’s move into African media is not only influence. It is a refusal to be spoken about by enemies forever. Africa understands this deeply because Africa has been living that insult for centuries.
The West named Africans primitive.
The West named Africans corrupt.
The West named Africans failed.
The West named Africans tribal.
The West named Africans dependent.
Then the West funded workshops to help us “find our voice”.
You must laugh, otherwise you will never stop screaming.
Look no further than the difference in models.
The US arrives through NED, USAID-style networks, democracy foundations, media training, civic-tech platforms, election monitors, anti-corruption projects, youth leadership programmes and governance workshops. They book a hotel. They print lanyards. They give everyone a tote bag. They say “capacity building” 47 times before lunch. A report is produced. A consultant is paid. A dashboard is launched. A young fellow is photographed near a banner. Democracy has happened.
Then everyone goes home.
Nothing is built.
No power station.
No railway.
No laboratory.
No sovereign media infrastructure.
No industrial base.
No technical state capacity.
Just another report titled Strengthening Inclusive Youth Participation in Accountable Governance Frameworks for Resilient Democratic Futures.
The empire has eaten. The workshop has ended. The people remain poor.
Russia’s model does not arrive wearing the same donor cologne. Russia works through state-to-state agreements, scholarships, media platforms, energy, nuclear cooperation, grain, fertiliser, security partnerships, diplomatic forums and technical training. Again, Russia has interests. Every serious state has interests. But there is a material difference between a country that trains engineers and one that trains professional workshop attenders.
Russia offers something that points toward sovereignty.
Scholarships create doctors, engineers, linguists, scientists, diplomats, technicians and nuclear specialists. Energy projects create capacity. Media partnerships break the Western monopoly over global narration. Fertiliser and grain diplomacy meet material needs. Multipolar forums give African states diplomatic room to move.
This is why Washington is green with envy.
The US wants Africa dependent, grateful and supervised. Russia gives Africa another door. Another route. Another pole. Another voice. Another memory. Another possibility.
That is the real offence.
The West calls it Russian influence because it cannot say the truth: Africa is no longer satisfied with one master calling itself the international community.
African affection for Russia is not childish. It is not a digital infection. It is not manufactured by memes. It grows from liberation memory, Western betrayal, material need and the search for sovereignty.
Africa has big love for Russia because Russia reminds Africa that the West is not the whole world.
And that, for empire, is the unforgivable joke.