Reality

Truth or dare

The Bahatis Empire

Kenya

AshenArcanist

Nothing serious about this show at all. The Bahatis Empire is less a television show and more a lobotomy with lighting in a dumpster. It takes the worst instincts of reality television – shameless self-promotion, preposterous drama, and spiritual kitsch – and whips them into a lurid soufflé of idiocy so thick you could drown a philosophy professor in it. Watching it is like being trapped in an Instagram story that never ends: a cacophony of designer clothes, vacuous people, and the kind of tearful declarations that would embarrass even the most desperate, hallucinogen-driven soap opera writers. The Bahatis themselves seem less like people and more like characters created by a marketing algorithm that was trained exclusively on reality show reruns and Pentecostal sermons. Every scene reeks of calculated inauthenticity, as though the family were performing their lives for the approval of a celestial Kardashian.

And yet, they do it all with the po-faced sincerity of people who believe they are starring in a divine drama – a sort of holy Keeping Up with the Bahatis, where each absurd conflict is elevated to spiritual warfare and every birthday party is a crusade. One begins to suspect that the show is not so much written as hallucinated, a fever dream of fame and self-delusion brought to life with rhinestones and drone shots. Dialogue clunks along like a sermon scrawled by a nose-dusted youth pastor, while the emotional arcs have the depth of a kiddie pool on a hot day. It's not just stupid – it's weaponized stupidity, packaged for mass consumption and wrapped in a gospel bow. That people not only watch this but appear moved by it is either a triumph of irony or the clearest sign yet that the Enlightenment is officially on sabbatical. 

Anyone who suggests this show in good faith forfeits the claim to friendship and reveals a taste so debased it borders on the criminal.

The Bahatis Empire

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