Cote d'Ivoire: Miss Universe 2025 and the real story

Miss Universe 2025: Why the Crown Went to the Wrong Head (Again)

Alright, people, let's talk about Miss Universe 2025. Another year, another glittering stage in Bangkok, Thailand, another batch of hopefuls, and, if you ask me, another absolute masterclass in missing the damn point. The whole spectacle unfolded on November 21st, and sure, Mexico's Fátima Bosch walked away with the crown. Thailand's Praveenar Singh was a respectable 1st runner-up. But let's be real, the real story, the one everyone's actually talking about, ain't about who won. It's about who should have.

I'm talking about Olivia Yacé, Miss Côte d'Ivoire. She finished fourth runner-up, Top 5, whatever they call it. And honestly, watching the whole thing play out, it felt less like a competition and more like a corporate presentation where the best pitch gets ignored because the CEO's nephew needs a win. It's a rigged game, isn't it? We see it everywhere.

The Woman Who Actually Understood the Assignment

Look, I'm not usually one to get hyped about beauty pageants. They're often a parade of pre-packaged smiles and answers that could've been pulled from a "how to be vaguely inspiring" chatbot. But Olivia Yacé? She was different. You saw her up there, right? The stage lights probably glinted off that vibrant golden national costume, a whole damn story in itself. Golden wings, the "Dove of Peace," an elephant bust – Côte d'Ivoire's national emblem – and a calabash-shaped crown symbolizing Ivorian women's hard work. That's not just a costume; it's a history lesson, a statement. Then she stepped out in that shimmering golden dress by Filipino designer Leo Almodal, and she didn't just wear it, she owned it.

But the real magic? That Q&A round. This is where most contestants either freeze up or spout some generic drivel about world peace. Not Yacé. When asked about emotional skills for children, she didn't just throw out buzzwords. She talked about self-love as the foundation for confidence, resilience, healthy relationships. It wasn't just an answer; it was a philosophy, forged, she said, from her own personal struggle as a child.

And then, when asked how she'd use the Miss Universe title? To be a role model, an ambassador, empowering young girls to be bold leaders, unapologetic about their identity, to enter spaces they think are out of reach. She wasn't just saying what she thought they wanted to hear. She was living it. She even had a slogan, #assumeyouridentity. How many times do we see someone on a stage like that, delivering something so raw and genuine, and then... nothing? It's like bringing a gourmet meal to a fast-food joint and watching them pick the greasy burger.

The People's Verdict vs. The Judges' Blind Spot

Here's where it gets really telling. You don't have to take my word for it. Head over to X, scroll through the comments, or just talk to anyone who watched. The internet, that chaotic, unfiltered beast, declared Olivia Yacé the "real winner." People were calling her "the most poised, eloquent, beautiful and decent." They said she "nailed it" and "deserved the crown." And offcourse, disappointment was thick in the digital air, with plenty of folks, including a lot of Filipinos, scratching their heads and openly criticizing Miss Mexico's win, citing "the worst answers" she supposedly gave.

Now, I'm not saying Miss Mexico wasn't worthy, I'm just saying when the public, the actual audience paying attention, overwhelmingly points to one person and says, "That's it, that's the one," and the judges go another way... well, it makes you wonder, doesn't it? Are these pageants actually looking for the best representative, or are they just checking boxes on some internal, pre-determined scorecard? It's like watching an awards show where the indie film with real heart gets passed over for the blockbuster with all the studio backing. Happens all the time. Sometimes, I swear, they expect us to believe this nonsense, and honestly... it's getting harder and harder to swallow.

This whole thing, Yacé's performance, it wasn't just about a beauty queen. It shone a damn spotlight on Côte d’Ivoire, a country many probably couldn't even point to on a map before this. A West African nation, pronounced "kowt dee vwaar," a former French colony with a rich tapestry of languages and cultures. We're talking about the world's top producer of cashews and a huge chunk of the world's cocoa. A place with UNESCO World Heritage Sites, from Sudanese-style mosques to the gigantic Basilica of Our Lady of Peace in Yamoussoukro – the world's largest church, for crying out loud. And yes, the capital has crocodiles guarding the former presidential palace. Talk about character! Olivia Yacé brought that depth, that heritage, that realness, to a stage often devoid of it. She didn't just represent her country; she unveiled it, draped in gold and confidence. Then again, maybe I'm just a cynic who expects too much from a show about pretty faces.

The Crown Was Just a Hat Anyway