President Biya’s Daughter, Brenda Asks Cameroonians To Reject Dad In 2025 Election, Blames Him For 43 Years Of Misrule
The political world was stunned this week when Brenda Biya, daughter of Cameroon’s 92-year-old President Paul Biya, publicly called on Cameroonians to vote against her father in the upcoming October 12, 2025, presidential election. In a fiery TikTok Live broadcast that lasted nearly 40 minutes, Brenda — known online as “King Nasty” — delivered a scathing critique of her father’s 43-year rule, accusing him of running the nation into the ground through authoritarianism, corruption, and sheer neglect.
This marks an unprecedented moment in African political history: never before has a sitting president’s child so openly and publicly opposed their parent’s continued rule. Brenda’s words resonated deeply among young Cameroonians, who make up over 60 percent of the country’s population and have grown up knowing no leader but Biya. It also triggered heated debates across social media, Cameroonian streets, and international diplomatic circles about the future of one of Africa’s longest-standing regimes.
Paul Biya came to power in November 1982, succeeding Ahmadou Ahidjo. At the time, Cameroon was seen as one of Africa’s more stable and promising nations, with a relatively diversified economy and a reputation for peace. Over the next four decades, however, Biya’s tenure became synonymous with authoritarian consolidation — abolishing term limits in 2008, centralizing power in the presidency, and weakening independent institutions. Every presidential election since 1992 has been marred by allegations of rigging, intimidation, and voter suppression. Transparency International consistently ranks Cameroon as one of the most corrupt countries in Africa, and the Anglophone crisis has seen widespread military crackdowns, arbitrary arrests, and extrajudicial killings. Thousands of educated young Cameroonians have fled to Europe and North America in search of better opportunities. By 2025, the country’s per capita income had stagnated, infrastructure was in disrepair, and unemployment remained alarmingly high. Critics often point out that Biya spends significant time abroad in Switzerland, where he reportedly receives medical treatment and lives in luxury — leaving governance to a small circle of loyalists.
Brenda Biya, 27, is no stranger to public attention. A graduate of a Swiss private university and known for her glamorous lifestyle, she has cultivated a following of over three million TikTok and Instagram fans, posting fashion content, music covers, and candid commentary on life as Cameroon’s first daughter. Her evolution from socialite to political voice was gradual but noticeable. In 2022, she spoke out against online bullying after Cameroonian social media users mocked her for having vitiligo. In early 2024, she posted cryptic messages about “wanting freedom” and “being tired of lies.” But her September 2025 broadcast was her most direct and politically charged intervention yet.
“Cameroonians, I beg you — do not vote for my father,” she said. “We cannot continue like this. Forty-three years is enough. We are a young country, but we are dying inside. Our hospitals have no drugs, our youths have no jobs, our voices are not heard. My father is 92. He cannot solve tomorrow’s problems.”
Her words were laced with personal pain, suggesting tensions within the Biya family itself. She hinted that she had been sidelined and silenced whenever she tried to raise concerns privately.
Brenda’s statement sent shockwaves across Cameroon. Young Cameroonians flocked to her TikTok and Instagram, flooding the comments section with support, calling her the voice of their generation and praising her courage. University students in Yaoundé and Douala reportedly shared clips of her video during campus discussions. Activists in Buea and Bamenda called her statement historic and urged the opposition to capitalize on her words.
The ruling Cameroon People’s Democratic Movement (CPDM) was quick to respond. Party spokesperson Jacques Fame Ndongo dismissed Brenda’s remarks as “youthful indiscretion,” insisting that President Biya remains the only leader capable of guaranteeing stability. Behind closed doors, however, insiders told local newspapers that the regime was deeply embarrassed. There are rumors that Biya’s communication team is debating whether to ignore Brenda or publicly disown her comments.
The Cameroonian diaspora — estimated at over five million worldwide — has been one of the loudest critics of Biya’s rule. Brenda’s call was greeted with applause in WhatsApp groups and Zoom forums hosted by exiled activists in France, Canada, and the U.S. Western diplomats privately expressed that Brenda’s public stance complicates Biya’s image abroad. For decades, France and other partners have tolerated Biya’s excesses in exchange for political stability and access to Cameroon’s oil, timber, and cocoa. But with the president’s own daughter publicly denouncing him, continued international support may face greater scrutiny.
This election is seen as a make-or-break moment for Cameroon. Biya is seeking an eighth term, but several opposition candidates — including Maurice Kamto of the MRC and Cabral Libii of the PCRN — are hoping to galvanize a restless population. Brenda’s words could prove pivotal in several ways: boosting opposition morale, fracturing CPDM support, and increasing voter turnout in a country where elections are historically marked by apathy.
No discussion of Cameroon’s future can ignore the Anglophone crisis, which has raged since 2016. Armed separatists in the Northwest and Southwest regions have declared an independent state called “Ambazonia,” leading to a bloody conflict that has killed thousands and displaced over 600,000 people. Brenda briefly touched on this during her livestream, saying that her heart breaks for Anglophone children who cannot go to school. She accused her father’s government of failing them and called for peace over bullets. Her acknowledgment of the crisis could encourage more Francophone Cameroonians to speak out about a conflict that is often minimized in state media.
Brenda’s stance joins a small but growing list of cases where relatives of authoritarian leaders broke ranks. In Libya, Saif al-Islam Gaddafi occasionally criticized his father’s regime, though he later defended it during the 2011 uprising. In Equatorial Guinea, Gabriel Mbaga Obiang Lima, son of Teodoro Obiang, has been rumored to favor gradual reforms. In Zimbabwe, Bona Mugabe reportedly urged her father to resign quietly before the 2017 coup. But Brenda’s case stands out for its timing — coming right before an election — and its public, unfiltered nature, amplified by social media.
Her boldness is not without danger. Cameroon has a history of surveilling and punishing dissent, even among elites. Some analysts warn that she may face state harassment, surveillance, restricted movement, loss of privileges, character assassination by government-friendly media, or even estrangement from her family. Still, Brenda seemed resolute during her broadcast: “I am not afraid anymore. If speaking the truth costs me my comfort, so be it. Cameroon is bigger than one family.”
Brenda Biya’s defiance is emblematic of a wider generational shift across Africa. Young people are rejecting long-entrenched leaders and demanding accountability. From Senegal’s opposition protests to Uganda’s Bobi Wine movement, a new wave of political consciousness is sweeping the continent. If Cameroonians heed Brenda’s call and vote out Biya, it could mark the peaceful end of one of Africa’s most enduring regimes — and set an example for other nations grappling with overstaying presidents.
For 43 years, Paul Biya has ruled Cameroon with an iron grip, outlasting Cold War dictators, surviving coups, and weathering global shifts. Yet, in 2025, the loudest call for his exit has come from within his own household. Whether Brenda’s plea becomes a footnote in history or the catalyst for change will be determined on October 12, when Cameroonians head to the polls. One thing is certain: the silence has been broken, and the conversation about Cameroon’s future can no longer be confined to state-run TV or party congresses.