Love Conquers All: Confronting Xenophobia and the Pan-African Migration Crisis
South Africa’s xenophobia debate reflects a deeper continental failure of leadership, lawful migration, and mutual accountability—one that the Church must address through truth, justice, and love.
By Ayavuya Madolo
“Grace and peace be upon you, brethren.” This is how the apostle Paul would salute the church. Today, I want to base this narrative on one fundamental truth: Love.
When the world cannot seem to solve its crises, we must turn to God and enquire what He says about the situation. In Romans 13:9, Paul writes:
“The commandments are all summed up in one command: love thy neighbour as you love yourself.”
If this is our standard, we must examine the current tensions in South Africa through the lens of love.
When European settlers landed at the Cape, the Khoikhoi and Xhosa natives initially received them with curiosity and hospitality. However, hospitality was soon met with an insatiable appetite. The settlers demanded cattle, then land, then labour. A people who opened their doors found themselves dispossessed in the land of their fathers.
I raise this not to reopen old wounds, but because the same spirit—arriving as a guest but behaving as a conqueror—is at the heart of the tension we wrestle with today.
The xenophobia debate does not begin at the shores of the South African border; it begins in the looted treasures of the continent. If we look honestly at the living conditions in nations like Zimbabwe, Nigeria, and Somalia, we must ask: Do their leaders truly love them?
When the word “xenophobia” is spoken, South Africa is often singled out as though Mzansi alone owns this sin. But history tells a much broader, pan-African story:
In Kenya: Somali nationals have previously been rounded up into refugee camps before deportation amidst intense political gridlock.
In Nigeria (1983): Reeling from an economic crash after the oil boom, Nigeria expelled an estimated two million undocumented migrants (mostly from Ghana, Chad, and Cameroon) under the banner of national security and economic stability.
Xenophobia and the fear of the foreigner is a continental wound, not a uniquely South African trait.
The culture of creating scapegoats is a pandemic one on the continent. We have been made to think that recent migration issues are exclusively South African. It seems African leaders and the African Union (AU) have forgotten history; in true Animal Farm style, they act shocked. Just as Adam blamed Eve and Eve blamed the snake, today, scapegoating by our leaders is as easy as saying, “South Africans are xenophobic.”
When our continental brothers and sisters first arrived at South African borders, the locals showed them love in a thousand quiet ways:
Locals rented them backyard rooms at discounted rates.
They bought the brooms and curtains sold door-to-door.
They supported foreign-owned shops and rented out garages so a stranger could open a spaza shop to feed his family.
They provided employment and entrusted them with work.
This was the generous hospitality locals displayed toward their counterparts. But what happens when the person you let inside your house begins to mistreat your children and steal your belongings?
What happens when our brothers sell rotten food to South Africans, or when locals are bullied out of their own economy? What happens when there is suddenly no space for social housing or medical attention at local clinics? Locals pay for electricity but must sit for hours in the dark because an illegal connection caused a power failure, and streets are dark because copper has been stolen. Worst of all, what happens when a community wakes up to the tragic news that the young girl from next door, who has been missing for weeks, has been found dead in a downtown Johannesburg brothel?
I am raising this because South Africans are often labeled as a people without love. But love is a two-way street. In Romans 13:10, we are reminded that “love does no harm to a neighbour.” Therefore, true love from our African brothers and sisters entering South Africa must manifest as lawfulness and respect.
If we are operating in love, the following boundaries must be honoured:
Respect for Sovereignty: Love does not enter a country illegally under the cover of night, mislead authorities, or bribe officials to look the other way.
Economic Fairness: Love does not push into economic sectors reserved by law for locals, nor does it collude to lock citizens out of their own markets. It refuses to manufacture counterfeit, unregulated, or dangerous goods simply to chase a profit at the expense of consumer safety.
Rejection of Criminality: Above all, love never looks away from darkness. It does not condone drug smuggling, the vandalism of infrastructure (like railway and copper cables), human trafficking, or fraud.
A guest who loves his host guards the host’s house as if it were his own. Criminality must be condemned universally—whether in South Africa, Nigeria, Kenya, Uganda, Libya, or Egypt.
Where, then, is the church? Too often, the body of Christ is caught straddling the fence. The prophet Elijah warned us against hesitating between two opinions, and Jesus warned against being lukewarm. We cannot remain comfortable while our neighbours suffer.
As Christians, we must fight this on our knees:
“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against rulers and principalities...” (Ephesians 6:12)
The forces driving brother against brother are spiritual before they are political. Our primary weapons must be prayer and truth: praying for just leaders, advocating for lawful migration, and standing as a church bold enough to speak the whole truth in love.
We dare not let the history of the early settlers wear new clothes today. The demand of “give me your trade, your space, your country, and ask me nothing in return” is the root of the bitterness boiling over.
The cure is not the bush knife or the burning tyre. The cure is love made practical:
Leaders who love their people enough to provide dignity at home.
Migrants who love their hosts enough to honour their laws.
Locals who maintain the heart to love the stranger as they once did.
A Church bold enough to tell everyone the truth.
When we couple love with basic fairness toward native citizens—whose initial welcome must be answered with respect—this deep continental wound will heal.
Love conquered death at the cross; it can surely conquer the fear that sets neighbour against neighbour. Let us, the church, lead the way on our knees and with our lives.
Ayavuya Madolo is a prominent South African business leader, an advocate for economic development and a “Child of God”.
©Higher Education Media Services.