The Blood in the Water: Calling Out Kenya’s President William Ruto Ignorance That Betrays the Memory of the Enslaved Africans

There are moments in history so cruel, so calculated, so demonic, that to forget them is not just ignorance — it is betrayal. One such moment is the Transatlantic Slave Trade. During its brutal centuries-long reign, millions of African men, women, and children were kidnapped, chained, branded, and thrown into the bellies of European ships bound for the so-called New World. Many never even made it to those distant shores.

They died in agony, suffocated in dark, disease-ridden hulls or were thrown overboard — alive — into the Atlantic Ocean. These were not simply “casualties” of transport. Many were cast into the sea deliberately: to prevent rebellion, to make room for cargo, or to claim insurance money. Yes — insurance. The same financial institutions that now pride themselves on global influence and economic growth once profited off the bodies of enslaved Africans.

One of those institutions is Lloyd’s of London.

Lloyd’s wasn’t just a passive bystander. It was a pillar of the slave economy. It insured the very ships that trafficked in Black flesh. It underwrote the voyages of death. It was complicit in — and enriched by — the genocide of a people. In 1807 alone, research reveals that a significant share of slave voyages leaving Britain were insured through Lloyd’s. The company grew, bloated on blood money, and today stands as a towering symbol of Britain’s colonial wealth — unapologetic, largely unaccountable, and still thriving.

So when Kenyan President William Samoei Ruto proudly posted photos at Lloyd’s of London, grinning under the emblem of that infamous institution, speaking of vibrant markets and partnerships, it felt like a stab in the backs of the ancestors.

This is not about being anti-development. It is not about rejecting growth or modern finance. It is about memory, dignity, and moral responsibility. It is about not shaking the blood-soaked hand of the man who once held the whip without at least demanding a reckoning.

The African continent continues to suffer from the economic, social, and psychological trauma of slavery and colonialism. Generations have been uprooted, nations destabilized, languages lost, and cultures erased. And yet, in 2025, many African leaders still walk into the halls of their former oppressors, heads held high but minds completely empty of historical context. That is not leadership — it is failure. It is intellectual laziness disguised as diplomacy.

The ignorance must be called out. Loudly. Painfully. Publicly.

Because the bones of millions of Africans lie on the ocean floor, unburied and unnamed, their spirits restless, their story forgotten even by their own descendants. Those bodies — thrown overboard, their limbs twisted in terror, their last breaths taken under foreign skies — they deserve more than silence. They deserve memory. They deserve justice. They deserve leaders who will not sell their dignity for photo ops and stock exchange ceremonies.

To President Ruto and others like him: educate yourselves. Understand the weight of your presence in spaces built on Black suffering. Demand apologies, not partnerships. Ask for reparations, not ribbon cuttings. Lead with historical clarity, not colonial amnesia.

Because every time we forget, we allow it to happen again — in a different form, with different chains, but the same devastating result.

Let us honor the millions who never made it to shore. Let us remember the ones who were thrown overboard, not as lost cargo, but as stolen souls.

And let us never again applaud the institutions that bought and sold them.