Trump Admin Calls On Walz To Resign Over Widening Fraud Scandal
President Trump’s education secretary has criticized Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz over his handling of an expanding fraud scandal, calling for his resignation in a sharply worded letter that also raises concerns about alleged misconduct within the state’s higher education system.
“You have been Minnesota’s Governor since 2019,” Education Secretary Linda McMahon wrote to Walz in a letter obtained by Fox News Digital. “During that time, your careless lack of oversight and abuse of the welfare system has attracted fraudsters from around the world, especially from Somalia, to establish a beachhead of criminality in our country. As President Trump put it, you have turned Minnesota into a ‘fraudulent hub of money laundering activity.’”
“Given your dereliction of the office entrusted to you by Minnesotans, I implore you to resign and make way for more capable leadership,” she wrote.
The letter focuses on Minnesota’s large-scale fraud scandal, which has drawn national scrutiny following allegations that nonprofits, including Feeding Our Future, misappropriated at least $1 billion in taxpayer funds during Walz’s tenure as governor. The education secretary also cited what the department described as widespread fraud within Minnesota’s higher education system.
Separately, the Department of Education announced last week that it had prevented more than $1 billion in fraudulent student aid during President Trump’s first year back in office, citing increased enforcement against suspected automated applications and so-called “ghost students” seeking federal loans.One of the alleged schemes disproportionately affected Minnesota. According to Fox News Digital, Riverland Community College averaged more than 100 potentially fraudulent student aid applications per year.
McMahon said her department identified nearly 2,000 so-called “ghost students” linked to colleges and universities in Minnesota.
“We call these fraudsters ‘ghost students’ because they were not ID-verified and often did not live in the United States, or they simply did not exist,” McMahon wrote. “In Minnesota, 1,834 ghost students were found to have received $12.5 million in taxpayer-funded grants and loans. They collected checks from the federal government, shared a small portion of the money with the college, and pocketed the rest without attending the college at all.”
She said the department has since implemented stricter nationwide safeguards, including mandatory identity verification for certain first-time applicants, before turning her attention to Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.).
McMahon wrote that Omar borrowed “tens of thousands” in student loans and “now does not think she should have to repay, despite her generous, taxpayer-funded salary.”
A conservative watchdog group last month called on House Speaker Mike Johnson to pursue garnishment of Rep. Ilhan Omar’s congressional wages over her student loan debt, citing her $174,000 annual salary, Alpha News reported. In her letter, McMahon accused Omar of having “taken advantage” of federal taxpayers.The letter also criticized Gov. Walz beyond education policy, alleging that his administration oversaw what federal officials described as widespread welfare fraud affecting multiple assistance programs, including housing aid, food assistance, small-business relief, and services for seniors and children with autism.
According to the letter, the fraud allowed perpetrators to enrich themselves while the governor “did absolutely nothing” to prevent it.
“Shame on you, Governor Walz, for allowing this to happen and for benefiting from it,” McMahon wrote. “Stop defrauding American taxpayers. No politician is above the law, and my department, alongside every other agency under the leadership of President Trump, will continue to ensure that you will not be able to dodge accountability for your actions.”
Last week, Walz announced the launch of a new statewide fraud prevention program and the hiring of a private forensic auditing firm.
“I take full responsibility for it,” Walz said. “I think, and I will acknowledge certainly to Minnesotans and to the press here, I don’t think we’ve done a good enough job of communicating the hard work that’s being done.”
On my birthday, my sister smashed the cake straight into my face, laughing as she watched me fall backward, blood mixing with the frosting. Everyone said, “It’s just a joke.” But the next mo
On my birthday, my sister smashed the cake straight into my face, laughing as she watched me fall backward, blood mixing with the frosting. Everyone said, “It’s just a joke.”
But the next morning in the emergency room, the doctor studied my X-ray and immediately called 911—because what he saw… exposed a horrifying truth.
Part One: “It’s Just a Joke”
On my birthday, the room smelled like sugar and candles and cheap champagne. A pink cake sat in the center of the table, my name written across it in looping frosting. Everyone was laughing. Phones were out. Someone shouted for me to make a wish.
My sister stood closest to me.
She grinned, eyes bright with something that wasn’t kindness. Before I could even lean forward, her hands slammed the cake straight into my face.
The impact was harder than anyone expected.
I felt myself stumble backward, my heel catching on the rug. There was a sharp crack as my head hit the edge of the table, then the floor. For a split second, the room spun in white and pink. I tasted sugar—and then iron.
Blood mixed with frosting, dripping down my chin.
People screamed, then laughed nervously.
“Oh my God,” someone said, still chuckling. “It’s just a joke!”
My sister laughed the loudest. “Relax! You’re so dramatic.”
I tried to sit up. Pain exploded behind my eyes. My vision blurred, and the ceiling swayed like it was floating. Someone wiped my face with a napkin, smearing blood across my cheek.
“You’re fine,” my mother said quickly. “Don’t ruin the mood.”
I remember thinking how strange it was that my ears were ringing louder than the music.
I remember the taste of frosting as I swallowed blood.
I remember waking up hours later in my bed, alone, my head throbbing, my phone full of messages telling me not to be “too sensitive.”
By morning, I couldn’t lift my arm.
Part Two: The X-Ray That Changed Everything
The emergency room smelled like disinfectant and sleepless nights. The doctor asked how it happened. I hesitated, then said quietly, “I fell.”
He nodded, unconvinced, and ordered X-rays “just to be safe.”
I lay on the cold table staring at the ceiling, replaying the laughter over and over in my head. It’s just a joke. That sentence hurt almost as much as my skull.
When the doctor returned, he wasn’t smiling.
He stared at the image on the screen for a long time. Too long.
Then he left the room without a word.
Minutes later, he came back—with a nurse, a security officer, and his phone pressed to his ear.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I need emergency services. Immediately.”
My heart started pounding. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
He turned to me, his voice careful. “This isn’t a simple fall.”
He pointed to the X-ray. Even I could see it—fine fractures branching like cracks in glass, not just in my skull, but along my collarbone and ribs. Old fractures. Healed wrong. Layered.
“These injuries happened at different times,” he said gently. “Some weeks apart. Some months.”
I stared at the screen, my mouth dry.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered.
He met my eyes. “This pattern isn’t accidental. And the impact that brought you in today could have killed you.”
The word killed echoed in my ears.
“Who did this to you?” he asked softly.
I thought of my sister’s grin. My parents’ laughter. All the times I’d been shoved, tripped, “joked” into walls. All the times I’d been told I was clumsy. Sensitive. Overreacting.
My hands began to shake.
“I think…” My voice broke. “I think it was never a joke.”
Part Three: When Laughter Turns Into Sirens
The police arrived quietly. Calmly. Like this wasn’t the first time they’d seen something like me.
They didn’t accuse. They asked questions.
Who was there last night?
Who pushed you?
How often do you get hurt?
For the first time, I didn’t minimize. I didn’t protect anyone. I told the truth.
By evening, my phone was exploding.
My mother crying.
My father furious.
My sister screaming that I had “ruined everything.”
“You’re exaggerating!” she yelled over voicemail. “It was cake! Everyone saw it!”
Everyone had seen it.
That was the horrifying truth.
Everyone had seen it—and laughed.
The investigation didn’t take long. Videos surfaced. Old medical records were reviewed. Witnesses contradicted themselves. Patterns became impossible to ignore.
What started as a “birthday prank” became an assault case.
What they called humor was documented as violence.
I was moved to a different room that night, monitored closely, safe for the first time in years. As I lay there, ice wrapped around my head, I realized something terrifying and freeing all at once:
If that cake hadn’t been smashed into my face…
If I hadn’t fallen just right…
The truth might have stayed buried forever.
Sometimes it takes breaking something visible to expose what’s been shattered for years.
