In an age where images and short documentaries shape the world’s perceptions more than policy documents or ground reports, Africa has become fertile ground for messianic illusions. Nowhere is this more evident than in Burkina Faso, where Captain Ibrahim Traoré, celebrated as a revolutionary, a redeemer, and even as the modern-day reincarnation of Thomas Sankara, stands on a podium of contradictions.

To many across the continent, Traoré is a symbol of anti-imperialist defiance. His charismatic speeches, military garb, and unapologetic opposition to Western interference, coupled with a visible embrace of Russia's Vladimir Putin, have positioned him as a poster child for the Pan-African renaissance. He has been hailed for allegedly ushering in development at a speed never before seen, even drawing absurd comparisons with Mansa Musa and Sundiata Keita.

Yet beneath the glossy surface of PR-driven propaganda lies a dangerous reality that few dare to confront, the systematic persecution of the Fula (Peulh) people in Burkina Faso. In the name of anti-terrorism, an entire ethnic group is being criminalized, demonized, and eliminated with near impunity.

The Fula, a historically nomadic and culturally diverse group spread across West Africa, has been increasingly targeted in Burkina Faso’s counterinsurgency efforts. Entire villages have been razed. Civilians, women, children, and elders, killed on the suspicion of sympathizing with jihadists. Videos of mass graves and testimonies of survivors have surfaced, yet Traoré’s government remains disturbingly silent, if not complicit. His admirers, blinded by the optics of nationalism and pseudo-sovereignty, conveniently ignore this grotesque contradiction.

Where are the voices of the African intelligentsia and the so-called Pan-Africanists who so eagerly amplify every YouTube clip of Traoré unveiling electric cars in Ouagadougou or parading military trucks? Where is the outrage over the blood of innocent Fulas spilled in the hinterlands of Burkina Faso, in Djibo, Arbinda, Solenzo and beyond? Why does our Pan-Africanism not extend to Fula lives?

The African Enlightenment Sovereignty (AES), the alliance between Burkina Faso, Mali, and Niger, was announced as a bold new chapter in West African independence. But what has it offered its people other than state-controlled media blitzes and anti-Western rhetoric? While Mali and Niger have also turned to military rule, their silence compared to Burkina Faso’s amplified theatrics begs an important question: what exactly is being staged in Ouagadougou, and at whose expense?

To question Ibrahim Traoré today is to risk being labeled a neo-colonial sympathizer or worse, a puppet of Western interests. But true patriotism demands scrutiny, especially when a leader’s populist image is crafted on the ashes of ethnic blood. The celebration of Traoré’s supposed achievements, however real or exaggerated, cannot be divorced from the deliberate erasure and targeting of a segment of his own people.

Are we truly so naive to believe in YouTube narratives of 10-year-old boys saving Traoré's life or fantastical tales of a nation leaping into electric car production amidst widespread insecurity and internal displacement? These are not the indicators of revolutionary governance; they are signs of strategic storytelling, crafted for an African audience desperate for hope, but dangerously susceptible to myths.

Traoré is not Thomas Sankara. Sankara stood for equity, simplicity, and above all, justice. He did not rely on foreign militaries or media spectacles to establish credibility. He preached against ethnic favoritism and stood by the marginalized. If Sankara were alive today, he would have condemned the massacre of Fulas, regardless of political implications.

What makes this situation even more tragic is the eerie silence from regional organizations and continental institutions. The African Union, ECOWAS, and human rights groups have been disturbingly reluctant to call out Traoré’s abuses. Some have even praised his “boldness,” blurring the line between courage and cruelty.

History teaches us that silence in the face of injustice is complicity. Rwanda taught us that ethnic hatred ignored becomes genocide. Sudan taught us that when a government criminalizes an ethnic group, civil war is not far behind. Are we waiting for a catastrophe in Burkina Faso before acting? Or will we continue to drink from the chalice of propaganda until the last Fula child disappears?

For the record, yes, there is an insurgency in Burkina Faso. Yes, parts of the country are overrun by extremist violence. And yes, some Fulas, like individuals from other ethnic groups, may have been recruited by jihadist networks. But the assumption that being Fula equals being a terrorist is not only ignorant, it is genocidal.

The targeting of an entire ethnic group under the guise of security is a violation of every international human rights principle. It also undermines the very Pan-Africanist ideals that Traoré and his supporters claim to defend. Pan-Africanism, if it means anything at all, must be inclusive. It must stand against ethnic cleansing. It must value all African lives equally, regardless of region, religion, or tribe.

So why the silence?

Perhaps because Fulas have always been the scapegoats. From Nigeria to Mali, from the Central African Republic to Guinea, the Fula identity has often been associated with marginalization and mistrust. Their mobility, Islamic faith, and sometimes insular communities make them an easy target for regimes seeking a convenient enemy. Traoré, it seems, has simply repackaged this old prejudice under revolutionary branding.

We must not fall for it.

If Africa is to rise, it must rise united. Not through the exclusion or extermination of one group to elevate another. Our revolutions must be humane. Our leaders must be held to the highest standards, not venerated for mere defiance of the West, but for their fidelity to justice, fairness, and the rule of law.

Captain Ibrahim Traoré has an opportunity to truly lead, but that will only be possible if he chooses to rise above tribalism and military showmanship. He must open investigations into the atrocities committed against the Fula people. He must allow for independent human rights monitoring. He must stop using the revolutionary narrative as a smokescreen for repression.

And we, the African public, journalists, intellectuals, activists, must stop being dazzled by uniforms and slogans. We must demand the full truth. We must ask uncomfortable questions. We must stand with all marginalized people, not just the ones that suit the dominant political narrative.

Burkina Faso deserves peace. It deserves leadership that protects, not persecutes. And the Fula people, like every other Burkinabe, deserve to live without fear of being hunted down in their own homeland.

Ibrahim Traoré is not Thomas Sankara, not yet, and perhaps never. But he could still change course. He could still choose justice over vengeance, unity over division, truth over propaganda. The question is, will he?

Until then, no electric car unveiling or heroic tale will erase the blood on the soil. No matter how grand the rhetoric, justice will remain the only true revolution.

By Alpha Amadu Jalloh,

Author of “Monopoly of Happiness: Unveiling Sierra Leone's Social Imbalance,” Recipient of the Africa Renaissance Leadership Award 2025