By midday, the acrid smell of burnt plastic still hangs heavy over Johannesburg’s township markets a grim, sensory reminder of the tension and uncertainty that now dictate daily life for African migrants.
Across South Africa, familiar fractures have ruptured with renewed, terrifying intensity. Foreign African migrants hailing from Nigeria, Zimbabwe, Ethiopia, Somalia, and Mozambique find themselves squarely in the crosshairs of a fresh wave of protests, boycotts, and targeted violence. Local vigilante groups are demanding tighter immigration controls, marching through streets, and enforcing boycotts against migrant-owned businesses.
For the continent’s diaspora, this hostility is both deeply frightening and painfully repetitive.
‘We Preach Unity, But Live in Fear‘
For Oriyomi Philip, a Nigerian living in Rosettenville, Johannesburg South, the latest flare-up forced his family into days of hiding.
“For the whole of last week, we couldn’t go out to do anything because of the tension and the ‘foreigners must go’ protests,“ Philip says, recounting how his family followed safety advisories from the Nigerian consulate to avoid public spaces. “We stayed indoors throughout. We were safe, but the fear was suffocating.“
While Philip’s shop escaped the arsonists, he admits that life in South Africa has become an unbearable grind, especially for undocumented migrants.
“Nobody wants to employ foreigners here; we have to create our own businesses,“ he explains. “Most of us don’t even have proper documents because we cannot afford the exorbitant fees to renew passports or secure permits.“
Philip also points a finger at law enforcement, describing a specialized police unit known locally as Amapoisa. “Once they suspect you are a foreigner and you cannot speak their local language, they arrest you. Then comes the shakedown. If you cannot pay a bribe of at least 1,000 to 1,500 Rand ($55–$80 USD), they throw you in the back of a van and take you to court.“
Driven by sheer exhaustion and fear, Philip has registered his family for the Nigerian Federal Government’s planned voluntary evacuation program. “When I heard about the repatriation arrangement, I didn’t think twice.“
LEFT WITH NOTHING
Others weren’t lucky enough to escape with their livelihoods intact. David, another Nigerian resident, lost everything in the latest unrest.
“My business place was attacked and I was chased out simply because I’m Nigerian,“ David says. “They didn’t even allow me to collect my outstanding pay.“
Protesters intercepted David as he tried to flee, torching his vehicle. He narrowly escaped with his life. “They burnt my car and I sustained a severe head injury. Right now, I don’t even know where to start from.“
Currently squatting on a friend’s floor, David claims that neither the Nigerian government nor local aid agencies have stepped in. “The only help I got came from good Samaritans. Not even from fellow Nigerians.“
Like Philip, David views the police not as protectors, but as predators. “We are running from the protesters and running from the police at the same time. Sometimes, the police are even worse.“
For Temitayo, a Johannesburg resident, the toll is heavily psychological. “This is not a life,“ he says quietly. “Honestly, things have been too difficult. I registered immediately when I heard the government wanted to bring people home. Even if you have legal documents, the police will still harass you the moment they realize you don’t understand their language.“
A HISTORY OF FRACTURES
South Africa’s xenophobic underbelly is not a new phenomenon. The country has experienced periodic, bloody outbreaks of anti-foreigner violence for nearly two decades. Major waves in 2008, 2015, and 2019 left dozens dead, thousands displaced, and severely strained Pretoria’s relations with its continental neighbors.
Analysts argue the roots of this systemic rage are complex: chronic unemployment, staggering inequality, failing public infrastructure, high crime rates, and populist political rhetoric that conveniently scapegoats migrants for the African National Congress (ANC) government’s broader economic failures.
Outside a bustling taxi rank in Soweto, the grassroots frustration is palpable. “There are no jobs,” says an unemployed local youth. “People feel foreigners are competing with us for survival. Whether that is economically true or not doesn’t matter that is what people believe.“
THE BITTER IRONY OF PAN-AFRICAN SOLIDARITY
The anger directed at African migrants carries a bitter historical irony. During the darkest days of Apartheid, it was these very African nations that provided diplomatic cover, military training grounds, financial funding, and sanctuary to South African liberation heroes, including members of the ANC.
Nigeria, in particular, was a frontline state in spirit. Successive Nigerian governments heavily taxed their own civil servants to fund anti-apartheid liberation movements, bankrolled international sanctions against the white-minority regime, and offered free university scholarships to South Africans in exile.
Today, that history of pan-African solidarity feels entirely forgotten on the streets of Johannesburg.
Hon. Ekos Akpokabayen, Board of Trustees Chairman of the Nigeria Union South Africa (NUSA), notes that while the current protests are heavily concentrated in Gauteng, KwaZulu-Natal, and parts of the Eastern Cape, the situation remains highly volatile.
“What worries us is the high probability of escalation. Previous attacks have shown how quickly protests turn into killings, looting, and utter destruction,“ Akpokabayen warns. He confirms that over 200 Nigerians have already registered with the consulate for immediate evacuation.
THE COST OF CONTINENTAL ISOLATION
While South African authorities routinely insist that their law enforcement operations target “criminality rather than nationality,“ critics argue that official interventions are often performative and arrive long after communities have been torched.
Advocates argue that Pretoria cannot afford to ignore the broader geopolitical consequences of sustained xenophobia. South Africa remains one of the continent’s economic heavyweights, but its economic dominance relies heavily on the rest of Africa. South African banks, telecom giants (like MTN), retailers (like Shoprite), and manufacturers operate extensively across Lagos, Nairobi, and Accra.
If anti-migrant hostility continues unchecked, South African corporate interests abroad could face severe retaliatory boycotts, jeopardizing the hard-won progress of the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA).
As dusk falls over Johannesburg’s volatile townships, migrant-owned businesses shut their doors hours ahead of schedule. The conversations on the street corners are no longer about making a living, but about staying alive.
Many migrants insist they still want to believe that peaceful coexistence is possible. But in modern South Africa, belief alone is no longer enough to guarantee security.
