This has been a tough season for people living outside their motherland. In the US, it took the Supreme Court to stop reversal of the centuries old birthright citizenship.
On June 14, Switzerland voted on a referendum to cap its population at 10 million, aimed at keeping immigrants away.
The main story is not that referendum was lost, but that 45 per cent of the population voted in favour. For decades, the story of “othering” was restricted to Western capitals.
But the ship has reached Africa. In South Africa, June 30 was the “Go Away Day”, an informal ultimatum for black “illegal immigrants” to leave. In Nairobi, an MP promised to inspect construction sites and weed out Burundians.
In most bustling markets and crowded townships in Africa, the air is thick with a familiar unease. For the Somali trader in Eastleigh or the Burundian refugee in Hillbrow, the threat of violence is a persistent shadow over the present.
The recent flare-ups of xenophobic attacks across the continent serve as a stark reminder that Africa’s dream of unity is often betrayed by the reality of its divisions.
However, while the violence makes headlines, the underlying dynamics in places like South Africa and Kenya reveal a striking pattern of scapegoating, economic anxiety, and a desperate need for a unified Pan-African approach to migration.
In these countries, the root causes of xenophobia are disturbingly similar, often dismissed as “economic jealousy” yet driven by complex socio-economic failures.
Foreigners are frequently viewed through the lens of economic strain, accused of monopolising trade routes, especially in the transport and retail sectors.
This perception of “stealing” limited economic opportunities creates a volatile environment where the distinction between citizen and foreigner becomes a matter of life and death.
While the histories of African nations are dissimilar the reaction to others is identical: locals project their frustrations over poverty and unemployment onto the most vulnerable; the outsider.
In all instances, it is cheaper and easier to blame the migrant than to address the systemic corruption and the lack of an enabling environment that truly inhibits economic growth. Perhaps the most distinct similarity is the specific targeting of Somali communities in Kenya and South Africa.
In South Africa, Somali shopkeepers are often the first victims of xenophobia, blamed for stealing small businesses.
In Kenya, the narrative, while simmering under the surface, is just as strong and carries a security dimension; the “Somalianisation” of fear and resultant dehumanisation. This dehumanisation legitimises violence. The recurring cycle of violence offers critical lessons for the continent.
The first lesson is failure of reactive policy. For instance, in both South Africa and Kenya, government responses are often limited to condemning violence after it has erupted, followed by occasional deployment of police. There is a distinct lack of proactive integration policies. The lesson is clear: tolerance cannot be legislated in a day; it must be built through economic inclusion and civic education.
Secondly, there is a need to decouple the concept of nationality from economic privilege. In places like Nairobi, the government must work to formalise the informal sector where many refugees work, taxing them and integrating them into the national system rather than leaving them to the mercy of corrupt officials and angry mobs.
South Africa, similarly, must confront the paradox of its own “Rainbow Nation” identity—fighting internal tribalism while promoting anti-foreigner sentiment.
Finally, the use of social media to incite violence is a new battleground. In both countries, misinformation spreading via platforms like WhatsApp has been linked to the organisation of anti-foreigner attacks. The lesson here is the urgent need for media literacy and community dialogue.
The experiences of Somalis, Burundians, Nigerians and other nationalities prove that the “other” is not a monolith; they are individuals with families, dreams, and rights.
As the sun sets on the violence, the question remains: is Africa learning? The fight against xenophobia is not just about protecting “outsiders”; it is about defining the soul of Mother Africa.
Until Africa produces a unified, community driven immigation and integration policy, until its countries build inclusive economies and enforce the rule of law for all residents, the struggles of the last few weeks will surely be repeated.
-The writer is an advocate of the High Court of Kenya
