Remember when Meghan swooped into Nigeria claiming to be 43% Nigerian, acting like she'd found her long-lost homeland? Well, it seems the honeymoon period is definitely over, and the truth is coming out in spectacular fashion.
Let me paint you a picture of what went down earlier this year: Meghan and Harry descended upon Nigeria, trying to portray their visit as some sort of triumphant homecoming. There she was, parading around in African-themed outfits, making grand speeches about how Nigeria was her country too. Can you believe the nerve? Meanwhile, Harry tagged along doing his usual routine—looking lost and asking the same rehearsed questions we've seen a thousand times before.
Now, let’s contrast this with how our true working royals handle their duties. When Princess Catherine and Prince William visit Commonwealth nations, they approach their engagements with genuine respect, cultural sensitivity, and a clear understanding of their roles as representatives of the Crown. They don’t need to claim genetic connections or make grandiose statements about being part of the country they’re visiting. They simply serve with grace and dignity—two words that Meghan seems to have completely forgotten.
But here's where it gets really interesting, my friends. A satirical piece in Private Eye, a respected British publication known for its sharp wit and truth-telling, absolutely eviscerated Meghan and Harry's whole Nigeria affair. The article compared their visit to a classic email scam, and I have to say, the parallels are hilariously spot on. It suggests that Nigeria has been left feeling completely hoodwinked by this spectacle, with one quoted General reportedly saying, "We feel so stupid now." And can we blame them? Think about it: what has Nigeria actually gained from this visit?
Meghan claimed to be 43% Nigerian, a figure that many genealogists are seriously questioning, wrote some flowery letter about being humbled to receive a Nigerian name, and then what? What tangible benefits has Nigeria seen from this supposed homecoming? I'll wait while you try to think of something. Let’s be real here—this is classic Meghan behavior. She swoops in, makes grand declarations about her connections to the place, poses for photos, makes promises about returning, and then—poof—she’s gone, leaving nothing but confused faces and empty promises in her wake. It’s the same playbook she used with the royal family, and we all know how that turned out.
You know what really gets me? The contrast between this behavior and how our beloved Catherine handles her royal duties. When Catherine visits a country, she does her homework. She respects the culture without trying to claim it as her own. She doesn’t need to make it all about herself, and most importantly, she follows through. The projects she initiates actually continue after she leaves. The relationships she builds are genuine and lasting.
The Private Eye article brilliantly captures this whole fiasco with its warning about being approached by this couple offering Netflix documentaries, podcasts, or organic jam. I mean, come on, isn't that just perfect? It’s exactly what they do—they sweep in with big promises and grandiose ideas, but when you look closely, what’s actually being delivered? A whole lot of nothing, wrapped in designer clothes and PR spin.
Speaking of that jam, where is it, by the way? We're all still waiting for this supposedly amazing organic jam that’s going to revolutionize the breakfast table at $250 a jar. I’ve got my collection of proper Royal-approved jams ready for comparison—including King Charles’s own brand, which, by the way, actually gives its proceeds to charity rather than private profit. But Meghan's much-hyped product is still nowhere to be seen.
You know what really strikes me about this whole Nigeria situation? It’s the perfect encapsulation of everything that’s wrong with Harry and Meghan’s approach to public life. They seem to think they can just swoop into places, claim deep connections, make a bunch of promises, and then disappear into their Montecito mansion without any follow-through. But people are starting to see through it. The Nigerian people, who initially welcomed them with warmth and optimism, are now left wondering what they actually gained from this circus.
Did any real charitable initiatives get started? Were any lasting connections formed? Did any actual good come from all the pomp and circumstance? The answers to these questions are becoming increasingly clear, and they're not flattering to our favorite former royals.
Let’s talk about that 43% Nigerian claim for a moment. As someone who’s covered genealogy and royal family histories for years, I can tell you that these kinds of precise percentage claims about ancestry are highly suspicious—especially when they conveniently appear right before a visit to the country in question. It’s like claiming you're exactly 43% Irish right before St. Patrick’s Day—it just doesn’t work that way.
The contrast with our working royals couldn’t be more stark. When King Charles visits Commonwealth nations, he focuses on strengthening real, lasting ties between countries. When Princess Catherine engages with different cultures, she does so with genuine interest and respect—not by trying to claim she’s secretly part of that culture. When Prince William works with international organizations, he builds genuine, lasting relationships that continue long after he’s gone home.
What we’re seeing with the Nigeria situation is the same pattern we’ve seen play out time and time again. The grand entrance, the emotional declarations, the promises of future involvement—and then nothing. It’s becoming a predictable cycle, and people are growing wise to it. The Private Eye article, while satirical, hits on some very real truths about how this couple operates. And you know what’s really telling? The silence from Nigeria since the visit. If this had been such a successful, meaningful engagement, wouldn’t we be hearing about all the wonderful initiatives that came from it? Wouldn’t there be ongoing projects, continued connections, and real work being done? Instead, we’ve got crickets, interrupted only by the occasional statement from Meghan about how Nigeria is her country too.
Look, I’ve been covering the royals long enough to know the difference between genuine service and self-serving publicity. When Catherine visits a children’s hospital, we see follow-up visits, continued support, and real changes being made. When Meghan visits anywhere, well, we get Instagram photos and vague promises about returning home someday. The Nigerian General quoted in the Private Eye piece saying they feel so stupid now, while satirical, probably reflects a very real sentiment among many who bought into the grand promises and emotional declarations.
It’s a pattern we’ve seen repeated in the UK, in Canada, in the US, and now in Nigeria. The question is, how many more times will this play out before people stop falling for it?
To wrap this up, my friends, I think what we’re seeing here is yet another example of the fundamental difference between working royals who serve with dignity and those who use royal connections for personal gain. While William and Catherine continue to build real, meaningful relationships around the world, Harry and Meghan seem content to play at being royal tourists, leaving nothing but confused faces and empty promises in their wake.
And you know what? Maybe that’s the real lesson here. Maybe Nigeria has learned what the UK figured out years ago: All that glitters is not gold. Real royal service is about more than just photo ops and emotional declarations. It’s about commitment, follow-through, and genuine service to others.
