In September 2024, a word emerged during an interview between videographer @TomSurYoutube and influencer Anthony Sirius. This word, “kayakobeme,” does not exist in any language. Its sexual connotation is immediate. Within a few days, the neologism flooded TikTok, Facebook, and YouTube Shorts. In Benin, it took a different trajectory: internet users attempted to assign it a translation in fon or yoruba, and the controversy began.
Kayakobeme and the Fabrication of a False African Etymology
On Beninese social media, videos began circulating with subtitles attributing a meaning to “kayakobeme” in local languages. Some creators presented the term as derived from fon, others from mina, without any linguistic source to support these claims.
The mechanism is always the same: it starts with a sound that vaguely resembles an existing word, a translation is imposed, and the algorithm does the rest. The word has no identifiable linguistic root, neither in fon, nor in yoruba, nor in any other documented Beninese language. Anthony Sirius himself confirmed that he invented it on the spot.
This reflects a pattern that the translation of kayakobeme in Benin has aptly described: the transition from an improvised gag to a cultural controversy relies on fabricated translations, not on a real linguistic misunderstanding.
Sensationalist Translations on Social Media: Kayakobeme is Not an Isolated Case
Since 2024, criticism of approximate translations has become a recurring topic in French-speaking online controversies. The kayakobeme case fits into a broader trend where translation becomes a springboard for buzz rather than a tool for precision.
A documented example involves British journalist Ben Jacobs. An Arabic-speaking channel published a translated version of his comments on a football transfer, substantially distorting the original meaning. Jacobs had to publicly correct this by reminding that “this is absolutely not what I said.”
The parallel with kayakobeme lies in one precise point: in both cases, the faulty translation is not accidental. It generates engagement, shares, and indignant or amused comments. Content creators who attribute a local meaning to an invented neologism do so knowingly, because the controversy generates views.
What Distinguishes the Beninese Case
In Benin, the linguistic dimension touches a particular nerve. Fon and yoruba are living languages, spoken daily, and their instrumentalization to lend credibility to a portmanteau word invented by a French influencer annoys part of the online community. Several Beninese creators have published correction videos, explaining that the term corresponds to nothing in their mother tongue.
The irritation is not about the meme itself, but about the linguistic appropriation. One can laugh at an absurd neologism. Forcibly associating this neologism with a real language to amplify the buzz is another matter.
Kayakobeme Meme: Why the Viral Mechanism Exceeds the Content
The functioning of the kayakobeme meme relies on three springs that are nothing new but, when combined, explain its unusual longevity:
- A deliberately vague sexual innuendo that prompts users to seek the “real” meaning (and thus interact, comment, share)
- An exotic sound perceived as African by the European French-speaking public, which fuels translation attempts and offended reactions
- A short format (Shorts, Reels, TikTok) that favors the total decontextualization of the word from the original interview
Most people using the term today have never seen the exchange between Tom and Anthony Sirius. The word circulates detached from its source, facilitating all reinterpretations.
Cyberbullying and Concrete Derivatives Surrounding the Meme in Benin
In French-speaking Africa, the excesses related to viral memes do not remain virtual. In the Democratic Republic of Congo, the Telema Mwana ya Mapinga movement publicly denounced online attacks against women, fueled by expressions drawn from distorted memes. The transition from laughter to harassment occurs within a few shares.
In Benin, testimonies on social media show that kayakobeme has been used as an insult, particularly against women, in comments and private messages. The sexual innuendo of the term facilitates this shift. A “funny” word in an interview becomes a verbal weapon when applied to real people in a mocking context.
Moderation, Absent from the Debate
Neither TikTok, nor Facebook, nor YouTube have flagged the term as potentially offensive in their automated moderation tools. Feedback varies on this point: some users report that videos using the word have been removed for “sexual content,” while others say compilations of kayakobeme have accumulated hundreds of thousands of views without restriction.
This inconsistency reflects a structural problem. Automated moderation systems work by recognizing existing keywords. An invented neologism inherently escapes filters, giving it a viral advantage that explicit terms do not have.
The kayakobeme meme remains active, recycled into new forms with each wave of content. Its trajectory in Benin illustrates a mechanism that is increasingly common: humorous content produced in French-speaking Europe, reinterpreted and politicized elsewhere, without the original creators measuring (or caring about) the local impact. Translation, even false, is enough to trigger the cycle.
