The African breadfruit tree, Ukwa, does something deeply troubling. Planted and nurtured by the soil beneath it, the tree sprouts, blossoms, and bears large fruit balls. But when those fruits mature, they fall violently to the same ground that sustained the tree, almost like ballistic missiles attacking their own foundation.
Each time I reflect on the growing xenophobic violence in South Africa, that image comes to mind. South Africa increasingly resembles that proverbial breadfruit tree, a nation rescued by the solidarity of fellow African countries, only to turn around and wound the same continent that once stood firmly behind it.
During the darkest days of apartheid, African nations rallied around Black South Africans with uncommon courage and sacrifice. Across the continent, governments provided diplomatic support, financial assistance, military training, and safe havens for liberation fighters. African countries helped isolate the apartheid regime from the rest of the world and sustained the resistance until white minority rule could no longer stand.
Nigeria, in particular, played a leading role. The country spent millions of dollars annually supporting liberation movements and established the Southern Africa Relief Fund, popularly remembered as the “Mandela Tax,” through which civil servants donated part of their salaries to the anti-apartheid struggle.
Nigeria also issued hundreds of passports to South Africans who needed to travel abroad for education, work, or advocacy. South African students found refuge in Nigerian universities. Zambia hosted the ANC headquarters in Lusaka. Tanzania provided training camps and refuge for exiles. Angola and Mozambique risked retaliation from the apartheid regime by assisting armed liberation groups. Botswana, Lesotho, and Swaziland became critical transit points for fleeing activists after the 1976 Soweto uprising.
That collective African effort eventually led to the release of Nelson Mandela and paved the way for the first democratic elections in 1994.
This history is important because it makes the current wave of xenophobia in South Africa particularly painful. If African nations sacrificed so much for South Africa in its hour of need, why is South Africa failing other Africans today? Nigerians, Zimbabweans, Malawians, Ethiopians, Somalis, and others living in South Africa are not invaders. Most are economic refugees escaping hardship at home.
Nigerians, for instance, are victims of what British economist Richard Auty famously described as the “resource curse,” a nation rich in wealth but crippled by corruption, political dysfunction, and exploitation. Jobs have disappeared. Opportunities have dried up. Young people now scatter across the world searching for survival. Yet, instead of solidarity, many are greeted with hostility.
The recent wave of xenophobia in South Africa has become more organized and dangerous than previous outbreaks. It is no longer limited to spontaneous mob violence. Groups like Operation Dudula and the so-called Soweto Parliament openly target foreigners, accusing them of taking jobs and contributing to crime. Foreign owned businesses, especially spaza shops, are looted and destroyed with alarming frequency.
According to reports, thousands of such shops have been destroyed since 1994, while the Xenowatch observatory has documented hundreds of deaths and over 127,000 displacements linked to xenophobic violence. The consequences are enormous.
Immigrants increasingly live in fear. Access to healthcare and education is becoming difficult for refugees and undocumented migrants. South Africa’s image as the “Rainbow Nation” continues to suffer internationally. Foreign investment and tourism are negatively affected, while the possibility of reprisal attacks on South African businesses across Africa, including companies like MTN Group, MultiChoice, and Shoprite Holdings, grows stronger by the day.
What troubles me even more is the perception that the South African government has not acted decisively enough. The absence of firm and consistent enforcement has created the dangerous impression that xenophobic violence is being tolerated. President Cyril Ramaphosa largely responded by urging foreigners to obey South African laws and customs, while glossing over the disturbing reality that mobs appear to have assumed the role of law enforcement. History teaches us where such dangerous silence can lead.
On a candid note, there is a lesson here for Nigerians. We must rebuild our country and reclaim its promise. The vast resources of Nigeria should serve Nigerians, not enrich a tiny elite while millions flee abroad in desperation. If we place competent and sincere leaders in positions of power, the japa syndrome will naturally reduce because citizens will once again find hope at home. Africa fought to free South Africa. South Africa must not repay that sacrifice with hostility against fellow Africans.
Dr. Odu can be reached through [email protected] or SMS 07016722929.
