When 26-year-old Ibed’Negus Sealy first encountered the name Ibrahim Traoré, the young captain who seized power in Burkina Faso in 2022, he wasn’t sure what to make of him.
“The information I was getting on the Internet was a lot of AI-generated content because he doesn’t originally speak English,” Sealy said. “That had me a little sceptical at first. But then I started listening to Africans on the continent, and I saw some truth to this mysterious figure rising up in Burkina Faso.”
Sealy, who was appointed last year as the first youth officer of the Iyanola Council for the Advancement of Rastafarians (ICAR) and Pan African People, now sees Traoré as “a symbol of redemption for Africa”, embodying ideals long cherished by the Rastafari movement: a united Africa with “one currency, one army, one language, one border”.
Admiring militancy, questioning leadership
For Sealy, what sets Traoré apart is his path to power – not through elections. “He demanded it. And the people of Burkina Faso resonated with him,” Sealy said. “That militancy spreads itself in all of his decision-making. It reminds me of Fidel Castro in Cuba, or Barbecue in Haiti. Leaders who stood for something.”
That militancy, Sealy acknowledged, has often come at a cost: assassinations, attempted coups, instability. Yet he contrasted it with what he sees as timid leadership in Saint Lucia, where the name of the country and its British-inherited constitution remain colonial legacies. “It’s a facade,” he said, calling instead for radical change and deeper reclamation of indigenous identity.
A voice for the voiceless
Twenty-nine-year-old Ired Etienne, a farmer and ICAR’s communications officer, also speaks of Traoré in glowing terms. “I see him as a young military leader who puts his people first – free water, free electricity, support for farmers,” Etienne said. “I would like Caribbean leaders to take example of what this young president is doing.”
Etienne, who describes himself as “the voice of the voiceless”, believes Traoré’s approach embodies “legitimacy, love, and a fight against terrorism”. He said Western media outlets silence such stories. “They control us with the news, deciding what we must hear and what we must not hear,” he argued. “That’s why Rastafari has been burning the fire against the system for so long.”
Etienne pointed to Traoré’s break with France, including the expulsion of French troops and diplomats, as one reason he believes global outlets have downplayed his record. “I know here in Saint Lucia we have a French embassy, and they fund us in different sectors,” he said. “So, I see why these stories are not told.”
A complicated legacy abroad
Yet outside of the Caribbean’s grassroots discussions, Traoré’s leadership has drawn some scrutiny. Rights groups, including Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, have reported on a “campaign of repression” under his transitional military government.
These reports declare abductions of activists and journalists, forced military conscription of critics and the suspension of media outlets. In February this year, two pro-democracy organisers from the Balai Citoyen movement were abducted in Ouagadougou. In other cases, magistrates and journalists who questioned the junta’s decisions were said to be forcibly enlisted to fight Islamist insurgents.
The missing conversations
That tension is precisely why Sealy’s reflections on Traoré spark another concern lying closer to home: the way Caribbean youth, in his view, disengage from politics.
“From ages 14 to 40, we don’t discuss politics enough,” he said. “We’ll talk about music, sports, entertainment. We’ll make a joke or a song about politics. But we don’t take it serious, especially intellectually. And that’s a problem, because the people who do talk politics are the ones pulling the strings.”
But he opts too for critical thinking where reflections on Traoré, leadership ideologies and action convene. “If we want radical change, we need critical thinking to be present within that approach. You can’t just rebel. You have to plan ten steps ahead.”
Etienne, too, frames Traoré’s example as a teaching tool. “We need more leaders like him to show young people what’s possible,” he said. “It’s the beginning of the rise of the Black mission.”
