Every time I watch how some of our local and regional commentators dissect major diplomatic events, I’m reminded just how quickly we can shrink big conversations into petty ones. The recent noise around Rwanda offering Inyambo cows to the Emir of Qatar is a perfect example. What should have been an opportunity for Rwandans and Congolese to reflect on the significance of his tour turned instead into an avalanche of gossip; about carpets, dress codes, photos, convoy sizes, who bowed and who didn’t, which car he was driven in, the size of their convoy, who shook hands first, who stood where, and who smiled more; as if diplomacy were a fashion show.
And yet this trivialisation says more about us than about the visit. For me, there was nothing scandalous or embarrassing about the Inyambo gesture. The scandal lies in how quickly some people, here in Rwanda and across the border in Congo, abandoned substance for spectacle. A state visit that carried real strategic weight was reduced to petty comparisons of who hosted him “better,” whose decoration looked “richer,” and what symbolic gesture was “too much” or “too little.” We managed to turn diplomacy into décor.
Some Congolese analysts reduced the gesture to a simplistic narrative: a poor nation giving a rich one cows, and disparaged Rwanda’s cultural heritage in the process. Yet every country has its traditions of ceremonial gifting; the Japanese, Mongolians, Britons, Eswatinis, Moroccans, and Egyptians all do it. For many Rwandans, pride and attention became consumed with carpets, the slickness of the reception, and side-by-side comparisons. Very petty. In the end, both sides missed the bigger picture; they were so focused on appearances and cultural rivalry that they failed to engage with the deeper strategic, economic, and diplomatic significance of the visit. It became a competition in shallow analysis, as if Rwanda and the DRC had nothing more important to reflect on.
I kept thinking: are we really this distracted? Do people genuinely believe that a visit of this magnitude; by the Emir of Qatar, should be judged by surface optics instead of what it means economically, politically and strategically? This primitive obsession with images and etiquette says more about the spectators than it does about the visit. It reveals a population conditioned to focus on symbols rather than substance. And this is exactly where I start to wonder about Kagame’s handlers, and even the Emir’s own advisors. Because when a population focuses on shallow things, it has deeper meanings! It is either starved with information about the happenings or it is engineered to stay away from bigger topics, or both. If it is none of the above, therefore, our leaders and their handlers must choose strategies that cater to that shallowness in the population.
Thing is, who knows, it could be oversight. They did not assess the impact and what to communicate. It could be deliberate; and all the public knows now is about the giving of cows.
Or it could be a strategic adaptation to the nature of the audience itself; it can’t demand for details of such a visit and its significance; a tragedy that is. Either way, it reflects a deeper problem in our region; serious events are consumed through lenses that flatten nuance.
While people were inflating irrelevant comparisons between how the Emir was received in Kigali versus Kinshasa, the reality that Qatar is being blackmailed on multiple fronts escaped their mind. The Emir’s every move now invites pressure and scrutiny from regional players wielding influence, armed groups looking for leverage, governments eager to negotiate security deals, and international actors who use Qatar’s influence for their own bargaining and those worried about Qatar’s increasing influence. In that context, his visit to Rwanda and the DRC carried a level of risk and significance that most commentators failed to focus on.
Yet our region wasted that moment arguing about cows. We forgot the context. We ignored the deeper meaning. We missed the story.
And yet Qatar is doing what traditional Western powers have done for decades; except with far more agility and clarity. Qatar is driving geopolitical shifts; offering mediation; deploying resources; donating generously; buying influence; stabilizing fragile regions; and shaping global narratives. Western countries used to dominate these spaces, but today many are stuck issuing sanctions, calling names, making threats and passing dubious parliamentary statements about Rwanda. They set up media outlets to arm-twist Kigali, sanitize Kinshasa, or create pressure for their own interests. Meanwhile they fly in and out of the DRC promising “support” in exchange for minerals. Oh, how Tshisekedi loves it.
But the Emir wasn’t here for photo ops. He understands the importance of a stable East African Community to the world. He knows what is happening in eastern Congo. Who doesn’t see the dead bodies? Who doesn’t understand the fragile nature of the tension between Rwanda and the DRC? Qatar sees it, and Qatar is stepping into a vacuum that Western powers either misread or abandoned. Countries like Belgium; the architects of the mess in Congo; whose lingering damage is their responsibility; stand by as the region edges toward disaster. The United States has played its part too, but always commercially, which is understandable. Qatar, however, is playing an upper hand because it sees long-term opportunity where others see short-term transactional advantage.
And this is where Kagame’s strategic calculus becomes clear. He is not engaging Qatar for symbolism. He is engaging because he sees Qatar stepping into the global space that others are retreating from. He sees a partner with money, mobility, geopolitical clout, and the willingness to operate in regions the West only lectures about. Kagame knows that stability in eastern Congo is not just a regional issue but a global one, and he knows that Rwanda cannot afford to wait for Western actors whose interests shift with every election cycle. He is choosing a partner who understands long-term stakes.
Similarly, the Emir’s calculus is equally pragmatic. He did not come to Rwanda and the DRC for courtesy. He came because he understands that the EAC’s stability is tied to global energy markets, supply chains, aviation corridors, and security networks. For him, this is a long game. A region like ours; turbulent but strategically placed; is not a charity case for Qatar. It is an investment.
Instead of asking why Qatar is increasingly paying attention to Africa’s central corridor, some chose to count the number of cows in a gift. Instead of analysing what it means for a Gulf leader to visit Kigali and then go to Kinshasa, we saw Rwandans mocking Congolese carpets, and Congolese mocking Rwandan costumes and protocol arrangements. A regional opportunity was buried under jokes and memes. This shallowness isn’t just disappointing; it’s a missed opportunity. The region was handed a moment to reflect on its own strategic value, yet many chose pettiness.
I am not saying optics don’t matter. They always do. But when optics replace thought, when style blocks the view of substance, a region already struggling with insecurity, economic fragility and political distrust only handicaps itself further.
The Emir did not travel because of a carpet. He didn’t engage because of protocol theatrics. Qatar’s interests in Central and East Africa are deep, long-term and pragmatic. Kagame’s interests are equally strategic; stability, investment, security cooperation and a future-oriented partnership. Tshisekedi, too, had reasons tied to domestic politics and regional positioning. Meanwhile, the real substance went almost untouched: aviation and logistics conversations, hospitality and long-term investment discussions, quiet regional security concerns, and the Emir’s rare decision to meet leaders on both sides of one of Africa’s most volatile political divides.
The Emir’s visit deserved more than carpets, protocol gossip, and memes. It deserved analysis that rose to the level of the moment. This is the bigger picture people refused to see.
When I watched these reactions; from both Rwanda and Congo; I saw a mirror held up to our societies. A mirror showing our own insecurities, our hunger for symbolic validation, and our struggle to interpret high-level diplomacy. And maybe, just maybe, leaders and their handlers see that too, and act accordingly. Maybe they know that for many people, meaning has been replaced with spectacle, and depth is too easily drowned by noise. That, to me, is the real tragedy; not the carpets, not the photos, not the protocol, but the collective inability to recognise what truly matters.
Sometimes the real problem is not that Rwanda is thinking big; it’s that too many in the region insist on thinking small.
