Ah, Andrew Rettman. The man who, in the august halls of journalism, lays claim to an "investigative” seat but appears to have misplaced his magnifying glass and sense of integrity in favor of wild tales twisted from the depths of paranoia or in favor of a clown's nose and a vat of speculative nonsense.
On October 30, 2024—Rettman, the foreign editor for EUobserver, published an "Investigation” article "Handshake of death: EU embrace of Kagame helping silence dissidents in Belgium” for EUobserver, Rettman offers a spectacularly farcical portrayal of Rwandans and their government— not only of malice but of lazy sensationalism.
His sources? Several unnamed Belgian security service officials, an echoing parade of known genocide deniers like Natasha Abingeneye and for extra dramatic flair, Jambo Asbl— a genocide-denialist group that gets more airtime in his article than common sense itself. Of course and a cast of the usual suspects—Judi Rever and Peter Verlinden—whose well-documented anti-Rwanda biases are known to even the least discerning observer.
Master poisoners
Rettman's reliance on such figures is far less "investigative journalism” and more a showcase of absurdity. Let’s delve deeper into this swirling cocktail of misinformation and reflect on how pathetic and pathological Rettman’s fabrications truly are.
Picture this: somewhere in Belgium, a nameless security officer—who may or may not be Rettman himself in a trench coat—whispers with cinematic gravitas. Let’s unpack the crux of Rettman’s plot, starting with his mysterious "Belgian security source” who, conveniently unnamed, spills a tale straight out of a B-movie thriller: "The Rwandans are master poisoners. There’s one toxin that can be administered via a handshake: The assassin smears it onto the palm of their hand, shakes the victim's hand on some pretext, then walks away and takes an antidote to save themselves.”
Here, Rettman offers no evidence, no corroboration, and no logic—just baseless insinuation dressed as investigative insight. How pathetic must one be to accept such drivel as fact? If Rettman truly understood the value of evidence in journalism, he’d realize that unverified hearsay from shadowy figures is as credible as a ghost story told around a campfire.
This isn’t just irresponsible reporting; it’s hate speech wrapped in the guise of journalism. By labeling "Rwandans” en masse as "master poisoners,” Rettman engages in blatant racial stereotyping, tarring an entire people with the brush of villainy.
No reasonable security officer would make such a grotesque claim without offering solid proof. But Rettman doesn’t ask for proof—he revels in spreading these baseless slanders, as if blind hatred alone validates his words.
Racist discourse is reproduced without notice. He quotes Peter Verlinden "But if I go to an event with Africans, I only eat from the public buffet and I always serve my own plate [for fear of poison].” This is a statement from a man who is married to an African, a Rwandan to be specific.
This "poison handshake” myth is so preposterous it borders on comical. Imagine assassins strolling around with lethal hand cream, waiting to exchange pleasantries before slipping away to pop a magic antidote pill. Even James Bond would roll his eyes at such a ludicrous plot device.
The shadowy figure, illuminated by a flickering lamppost, fades into the fog, leaving Rettman, pen in hand, nodding solemnly. Never mind that this premise resembles the plot of a low-budget spy movie, it was enough for Rettman to run with. For him, it was ‘evidence’—not the verifiable kind, mind you, but the sort that dances at the edges of credibility before dissolving into a puff of thin air.
The poison-handshake theory is not just preposterous—it’s insulting to human intelligence. Rettman’s source, whom we might generously refer to as "Deep Bunk,” implies that Rwandan assassins operate like bumbling extras in a James Bond parody, shaking hands with victims, then slipping away to swallow their magical antidote pills.
If Rettman paused for a moment to weigh the absurdity of this claim, it doesn’t show. Instead, he gleefully published it, presenting a damning stereotype as fact and smearing a whole people in the process. If this is what he calls investigative journalism, I shudder to think of what he’d do with a real story.
To call Rettman’s article a smear piece would be an understatement—it is, quite simply, a grotesque amalgamation of hearsay dressed up as "facts.” This jaw-dropping statement is presented without evidence, context, or even a shred of plausibility.
The idea that anyone with functioning critical faculties would take such a claim seriously boggles the mind. Only Michela Wrong, Kenneth Roth and others like them congratulated the writer. Just visiting X platform will be able to see what they wrote on the day the piece was published.
But for Rettman, it was apparently good enough to build an entire narrative around. He hangs his allegations on this absurd, baseless quote, all while asking his readers to suspend disbelief—and common sense—entirely. Rettman doubles down on the poison-handshake theory, embellishing it with the flourish of a charlatan thriller writer. Imagine, he tells us, an assassin smearing their hand with a toxin, casually greeting their victim, and then darting off to pop a magic antidote like a vitamin pill. It would be laughable were it not so insidious.
This brand of storytelling is not only devoid of journalistic merit but also reeks of contempt for the intelligence of his readers. Rettman’s refusal to scrutinize such an outlandish tale betrays either a gross inability to engage with evidence or a willful desire to spread disinformation. In either case, it is a glaring insult to all who value credible, fact-based reporting.
Rettman’s piece is further tarnished by his reliance on Natasha Abingeneye and Jambo Asbl—names synonymous with genocide denialism and hate propaganda. In his article, Abingeneye appears no fewer than seven times, while Jambo Asbl gets an enthusiastic five mentions.
This obsessive over-reliance on known disinformation peddlers speaks volumes about Rettman’s priorities: presenting one side of a complex issue with the zeal of a carnival barker, while ignoring evidence that would challenge his preferred narrative. What Rettman seeks, clearly, is not truth, but a spectacle—a crude caricature of Rwanda painted with the broadest, most malicious strokes possible.
The forgotten father?
Andrew Rettman’s trust in Jambo Asbl’s member Natacha Abingeneye is a glaring example of his penchant for biased and sloppy reporting. By taking her allegations at face value without even a cursory fact-check, Rettman not only reveals his disdain for journalistic integrity but also his willingness to tarnish the image of President Paul Kagame's government with sensationalist claims.
In his article, Rettman cites Abingeneye’s assertion that Kagame’s agents were behind the murder of her father, Juvenal Uwilingiyimana, in Brussels in 2005. According to Rettman, Uwilingiyimana was "a former government minister in Rwanda, was giving evidence to the UN’s International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda when he went missing, and his mutilated body was later found in a canal in the EU capital.” Rettman’s depiction stinks of biased sensationalism, devoid of the context and factual rigor expected from someone who purports to be an investigative journalist.
If Rettman had bothered to dig deeper, he would have found ample documentation indicating that the circumstances surrounding Uwilingiyimana’s death were far more complex than his daughter Abingeneye’s version suggests.
In reality, it is fair to wonder if Rettman even knew the name of Abingeneye’s father or if he simply ran with a ready-made narrative provided by his preferred sources. If he had looked into Uwilingiyimana’s actual history, he would have quickly discovered evidence that thwarts the "Kagame-did-it” story.
According to the ICTR's press release of December 23, 2005, following Uwilingiyimana’s death, the former minister had repeatedly expressed concern for his and his family's safety. His fear was not directed at Rwanda’s government but at "powerful persons in the Rwandan exile community.”
The ICTR recognized the gravity of Uwilingiyimana’s position: he was cooperating with the Prosecutor, an act that, in his own words, marked him as a "traitor” within certain elements of the Rwandan diaspora. The court explicitly stated that such individuals "run the risk that vengeance will be taken against them or against their families.”
For a journalist genuinely interested in the truth, these facts would have raised red flags about the claims being made by Abingeneye and her ideological allies. But Rettman, consumed by his prejudices, conveniently ignored them.
In reality, Uwilingiyimana had refused to testify in defense of Protais Zigiranyirazo—an accused genocidaire—and had implicated several individuals who had every reason to wish him harm. His fear for his life was so great that ICTR investigators interviewed him in France rather than in Belgium, where he ultimately met his tragic end.
Rettman’s refusal to engage with these details reveals not only a lack of curiosity of an investigative journalist, but an active disinterest in any evidence that might challenge his preconceived notions.
Abingeneye’s ideological motivations for blaming Rwanda are well-known, and Rettman’s blind faith in her account underscores his contempt for even the most basic standards of fairness. Her allegations conveniently fit Rettman’s narrative, but the facts paint a more nuanced—and deeply troubling—picture of betrayal, intimidation, and murder within the Rwandan exile community.
For Rettman, none of this seems to matter. He is more interested in confirming his biased position than in uncovering the truth. His willingness to ignore available facts is a dereliction of journalistic duty and a blatant attempt to mislead his readers.
Several international media outlets reported on Uwilingiyimana’s death, and a simple internet search would have yielded the ICTR’s press release, offering context that completely undermines Abingeneye’s claims.
Poisonous pen
But Rettman’s reporting is not about context, nuance, or accuracy—it is about pandering to a specific, prejudiced agenda. By elevating unsupported claims and ignoring established evidence, Rettman not only disrespects his readers but actively engages in a form of hate speech.
His work is not journalism but a malicious caricature that spreads disinformation and sows mistrust. What makes Rettman’s reporting so dangerous is precisely what makes it so pathetic and pathological. He does not seek to inform; he seeks to inflame.
He is not interested in the complexities of history, justice, or accountability—only in exploiting them to push a skewed narrative. His work exemplifies the toxic consequences of biased journalism: it misinforms the public, emboldens extremists, and poisons the well of public discourse.
In this case, it also betrays a shocking willingness to sacrifice truth on the altar of ideology. By trusting sources like Abingeneye and ignoring the wealth of evidence that contradicts her claims, Rettman reveals himself as less an investigator and more a peddler of venomous falsehoods. It is a sad, dangerous spectacle, and it is one we should all reject.
It becomes clear that Rettman is not merely misinformed; he is a purposeful misinformer and disinformer. His narrative is structured around fabrications that appear to have sprung from an online cesspool of conspiracy theories and hate speech. Take, for example, the so-called "Munyuza droplets.”
This dubious claim has been circulating for years among online trolls, genocidal sympathizers, and spambots. YouTube and "X” platforms have a lot of them. It is a prime example of digital debris that a true investigative journalist would debunk, not amplify. Yet Rettman not only entertains this garbage—he treats it as gospel to Christians, betraying his readers’ trust in the process.
At its core, Rettman’s work lacks the backbone that defines credible journalism: evidence. Good reporting demands facts, details, and a commitment to presenting verifiable information. Rettman offers none of this.
Instead, he serves up a toxic stew of half-baked quotes, anonymous sources, and unsupported assertions, all designed to titillate rather than inform. His failure to provide even a modicum of proof is a betrayal of journalistic integrity and an insult to readers who seek knowledge, not misinformation.
Rettman’s method of "investigation” involves little more than parroting the views of genocide deniers, known Rwanda haters, and self-styled "experts” who lack credibility. This reckless approach is more than just bad journalism; it’s a vehicle for hate speech.
By giving a platform to these voices, Rettman legitimizes their venomous rhetoric, further poisoning public discourse and spreading falsehoods that can have real, harmful consequences. His piece drips with a disdain for evidence and a contempt for the truth—a toxic combination that should disqualify him from any serious journalistic endeavor.
Rettman’s inability to grasp the importance of evidence is not just a professional failing; it’s a dangerous indulgence in disinformation. Every unsupported claim he makes erodes trust, misleads readers, and perpetuates harmful stereotypes.
His work reflects a deep-rooted contempt for his audience and a cynical disregard for the responsibilities of his profession. In an era where misinformation can fuel violence and hatred, Rettman’s recklessness borders on the criminal.
To conclude, let us return to the image of Rettman, clutching his poisoned pen, oblivious to the damage he causes. Perhaps he believes he is a fearless investigator, unearthing hidden truths. In reality, he is a purveyor of toxic lies, a poisonous garbage collector in the marketplace of ideas.
To readers and journalists alike, his work serves as a cautionary tale—a reminder that truth matters, evidence is vital, and hate speech masquerading as reporting must be called out for what it is: a blight on humanity’s quest for understanding.
Rettman’s short bio claims he specializes in stories about espionage, disinformation, and money laundering. Judging by his recent piece, perhaps it would be more accurate to call him a collector of poisonous gossip and malignant rumors. Investigative journalism thrives on hard evidence, concrete details, and logical analysis.
His piece, nonetheless, reads like a fever dream—a loose jumble of unsupported allegations and sensationalist claims. He cites sources that do not want to be named, provides zero verifiable facts, and serves up dubious anecdotes—a disservice to his readers and a betrayal of journalistic integrity.
Even when he decorates his text with quotation marks, the statements often make no sense. The label of "fake news” seems too generous for this level of drivel. It’s dangerous, reckless, and—dare we say it—guided by prejudice, if not outright hatred.
Somewhere, in the echo chamber he constructed, he’s become the character he sought to expose—a purveyor of poisonous words. For readers seeking truth, one can only hope they’ve walked away from this circus show with a lesson: that misinformation, especially when it masquerades as journalism, is a toxin more potent than any imagined handshake.
@TomNdahiro