Exiled royals playing A-list celebrity

“She thinks she’s the messiah” — that’s how palace courtiers summed up Meghan Markle behind closed doors, long before Megxit. She saw herself as a savior. Harry saw her as a queen to be worshipped, even if it meant defying the actual one. His pussywhipped devotion made lovesick puppies look like cynical bounders. But it led him to storm out of royal life, sword drawn, to slay every critic who dared question her motives.

Meanwhile, Meghan has become a punchline in her own side hustle. Late-night hosts roast her attempts to reinvent herself as a royal Martha Stewart. Even Mindy Kaling got a dose of duchess imperiousness when Meghan haughtily corrected her: it’s “Meghan Sussex, not Markle.”

They’ve carried that hubris — her messiah complex and his lapdog victimhood — everywhere like an infectious virus.

Sentebale: birth and death of a charity

Their latest casualty is the once-respected African charity, Sentebale. Harry and Prince Seeiso of Lesotho founded it in 2006 to honor Harry’s mother, Princess Diana — long before Harry met Meghan. The charity raises funds to combat HIV, substance abuse, gender-based violence, and other social ills among young people in Lesotho and neighboring Botswana.

But things fell apart after Sentebale appointed Dr. Sophie Chandauka, a long-serving board member, as chair in July 2023. She claims she discovered poor governance, weak executive leadership, abuse of power, bullying, harassment, misogyny, and misogynoir — a term for prejudice against Black women.

She initiated a restructuring plan. It included relocating fundraising operations to Africa and shifting leadership closer to the charity’s work on the ground. Chandauka hoped the changes would improve effectiveness. Instead, they triggered tensions with trustees, who reportedly disliked her leadership style.

The situation escalated when trustees demanded Chandauka’s resignation. She responded with a lawsuit to keep her position. Today, Harry and Seeiso finally resigned as patrons in solidarity with the trustees, citing an “untenable” leadership situation. She claims they quit in a royal fit because she insisted on governance, accountability, and refused to coddle royal egos. Frankly, it reeks of guilt that they’d abandon a charity they founded.

The damage Harry and Meghan are leaving in their wake

This is just the latest failure under the Sussex brand. Archewell faded. The Spotify deal collapsed amid accusations of laziness. Their Netflix content barely made a ripple. Time and again, they’ve shown that their leadership doesn’t inspire — it implodes. They leave every project like actors storming off set because the director dared to give notes.

Meghan telegraphed this fallout back in April 2024. In reputed fashion, she tried to shush Chandauka from standing next to Harry at a charity polo match. Chandauka stood her ground then — as she’s doing now. She has taken her claims of bullying and misogynoir to the High Court of England.

And, with all due respect to Meghan, the way Chandauka rebuked Harry shows why this Zimbabwean might be the most formidable woman he’s ever met:

While trustees are key for governance and regulation, and patrons – especially founders – are an honour to have, it’s the people in the field who are advancing the work, no matter what. … There are people in this world who behave as though they are above the law and mistreat people, and then play the victim card. Beneath all the victim narrative and fiction that has been syndicated to press is the story of a woman who dared to blow the whistle.

That’s not a vanity crusade. That’s a woman defending principle over power plays. Indeed, the court’s decision to hear her case suggests this: the problem isn’t the chair who challenged poor governance. It’s the founders — more concerned with image than impact.

But this isn’t just another failed venture. It’s a damning portrait of royals who chose self-exile because they mistake privilege for purpose. And they retreat the moment anyone dares hold them accountable.