The tragic execution of twenty-year-old Malian TikToker Mariam Cissé by JNIM militants in November 2025 serves as a chilling reminder of the life-and-death stakes in Mali’s fractured information landscape. Cissé was targeted simply for sharing pro-army content, a move that highlighted how digital influence has become a central battleground in a conflict that has dragged on since 2012. Mali’s recent history—marked by successive coups, the expulsion of French and UN forces, and the arrival of Russian mercenaries—has created a power vacuum where the truth is often the first casualty. As the military junta grapples with mounting insurgent offensives and the potential strangulation of its capital, the struggle for public opinion has shifted from traditional newspapers to the small, glowing screens of smartphones.
In this volatile environment, a new class of “videomen” has emerged as the country’s primary political brokers. These young broadcasters, such as the influential Gandhi Malien, command millions of followers, utilizing marathon livestreams to shape national discourse in Bamanankan. While Western observers often reflexively label these creators as mere Russian puppets, the reality is more nuanced: these influencers are a home-grown phenomenon born from internal political patronage. Mali’s elite have long cultivated these digital storytellers to frame the military junta as the nation’s saviors and to cast both domestic critics and former colonial powers like France as existential enemies. By the time of the 2020 protests, these videomen had become the essential conduits through which political movements reached the masses, effectively bypassing traditional media gatekeepers.
Russia’s strategy in Mali has been to pivot off this existing infrastructure rather than build it from scratch. Following the decline of the Wagner Group, Russian entities like the “African Initiative” have stepped in to professionalize this propaganda machine, offering training in content production and editing to ensure pro-Russian narratives are packaged with viral polish. By providing these influencers with everything from editorial frameworks to all-expenses-paid trips to occupied Ukrainian cities, Moscow has successfully integrated itself into the local media ecosystem. This is a far cry from the failing “counter-narrative” models employed by the West—such as covert fake accounts or dry, donor-funded media literacy projects—which often fail to resonate because they lack the authenticity and speed of local voices.
The Western approach to supporting information integrity in the Sahel remains largely tethered to a fading broadcast-era mindset. Programs focused on legacy journalism and fact-checking institutions are increasingly disconnected from the reality of how young Malians consume information: through short, vertical, fast-paced video clips. When Western actors attempt to “counter” Russian narratives using artificial or military-linked networks, the backlash often erodes what little credibility remains. The digital playing field is currently skewed against independent creators, as major platforms deny African creators access to monetization programs, leaving them financially vulnerable and often reliant on the very political or foreign interests they should be scrutinizing.
To reclaim the digital space, the solution is not to “fight” disinformation with propaganda, but to invest directly in the creators who can make the truth go viral. Rather than funding static institutions, donors should consider providing living-wage grants to a diverse group of Malian content creators, enabling them to produce high-quality, factual, and engaging short-form content. By focusing on production skills—such as storytelling, pacing, and AI-assisted creation—and rewarding engagement rather than prescribing editorial content, international bodies can empower local voices to compete on a level playing field. A commitment to accuracy could be enforced through a voluntary charter of principles, where creators retain their independence while gaining a badge of professional credibility.
Ultimately, the future of the Sahel’s information ecosystem will not be decided by legacy media reports or top-down government interventions, but by whoever can win the attention of a younger generation scrolling through TikTok and YouTube. With social media rapidly eclipsing radio as the continent’s primary news source, failing to support a robust, factual, and independent creator class is a strategic failure of the highest order. If those who value integrity and transparency continue to sit on the sidelines while domestic and foreign actors weaponize digital engagement, the trend toward misinformation and radicalization will only accelerate. It is time to treat individual content creators as the essential public service providers they have become, and ensure they have the tools to tell the story of Mali in their own voices.