By Rev. Fr. Maurice Kwairanga (Catholic Diocese of Yola, Nigeria)
The resurgence of xenophobic violence in South Africa as of April 2026 marks yet another tragic chapter in a recurring continental dilemma: Africans turning against fellow Africans under the strain of economic hardship, weak governance, and deep social insecurity. The attacks—characterised by targeted looting, destruction of property, and physical violence against foreign nationals—have once again exposed the fragility of social cohesion in parts of the continent and the moral cost of persistent leadership failure.
Recent incidents in Johannesburg, Durban, Cape Town, East London, and other parts of Gauteng province prompted urgent warnings from the Nigerians in Diaspora Commission (NiDCOM) and the Nigerian Consulate-General in Johannesburg, advising Nigerians to close businesses and remain indoors, particularly around South Africa’s Freedom Day on 27 April. Nigeria-owned businesses have been disproportionately targeted, echoing earlier outbreaks of violence witnessed in 2008, 2015, and 2019. Beyond the immediate human and economic losses, these events continue to strain diplomatic relations between African states that ought to be bound by shared history and destiny.
Economic Migration and the Politics of Frustration
At the heart of these attacks lies economic frustration. High unemployment, rising inequality, and shrinking opportunities have created fertile ground for scapegoating. Migrants—often visible, industrious, and operating in the informal economy—are falsely portrayed as the cause of job losses and declining living standards. This narrative, while politically convenient, is economically unsound and morally corrosive.
Economic migration within Africa is not an aberration; it is a rational response to uneven development, conflict, and environmental stress. People move not out of malice, but out of necessity. When states fail to create inclusive economic systems at home, mobility becomes a survival strategy. Criminalising or violently resisting this reality does not resolve structural problems; it merely displaces anger from failed systems onto vulnerable communities.
Poor Governance, Plutocracy and the Crisis of the African State
The persistence of xenophobic violence cannot be divorced from the broader governance crisis across much of the continent. Many African countries are increasingly defined by poor leadership, weakened institutions, and the rise of plutocratic elites who govern in the interest of wealth accumulation rather than public welfare. In such contexts, public anger is rarely directed upwards—towards those responsible for policy failure—but sideways, towards those with the least protection.
Where governance is weak, insecurity thrives. Where public trust is eroded, social contracts collapse. And where states fail to deliver jobs, housing, education, and safety, communities become vulnerable to manipulation by populist rhetoric that frames outsiders as enemies. Xenophobia thus becomes both a symptom and a tool of governance failure.
Development Without Communities
Equally troubling is the persistent neglect of community needs in development planning across the continent. Large-scale projects—whether in infrastructure, mining, energy, or urban renewal—are often conceived and executed without meaningful community participation. The result is growth without inclusion and progress without dignity.
When local populations feel excluded from development benefits, resentment festers. Migrants, who may appear to navigate these economic spaces more successfully, become convenient targets. This dynamic underscores a critical lesson: development that does not prioritise people, equity, and local ownership is ultimately destabilising.
Insecurity and the Normalisation of Violence
The repeated cycles of xenophobic attacks in South Africa point to a dangerous normalisation of violence as a means of expressing grievance. Weak law enforcement responses, inconsistent accountability, and slow justice systems reinforce the perception that such acts carry little consequence. Over time, this erodes the rule of law and entrenches fear—among migrants and citizens alike.
Insecurity, once unleashed, does not discriminate. It damages economies, drives away investment, fractures communities, and diminishes a country’s moral standing. No society can sustainably prosper while tolerating violence against those within its borders.
Recovering the Milk of Human Kindness
Perhaps the most painful loss revealed by these events is the erosion of what has often been called the “milk of human kindness”—the empathy, solidarity, and shared humanity that once defined pan-African ideals. Africa’s history is rich with traditions of hospitality, mutual aid, and collective survival. Xenophobic violence represents a betrayal of these values.
Reclaiming them requires more than rhetoric. It demands ethical leadership, honest economic reform, inclusive development, and civic education that emphasises shared African identity over narrow nationalism. It also requires regional cooperation to manage migration humanely and to address the root causes that force people to leave home in the first place.
Conclusion
The xenophobic attacks on Africans living in South Africa are not merely a South African problem; they are a continental warning. They reveal the high cost of poor governance, rising inequality, elite capture of resources, and development that ignores communities. Most importantly, they challenge Africa to reflect on the kind of future it is building—one defined by fear and fragmentation, or one anchored in justice, dignity, and shared humanity.
Until African states prioritise good governance, people-centred development, and the restoration of compassion in public life, the cycle of violence will persist. And in that persistence, the continent risks losing not only lives and livelihoods, but its moral soul.