Few relationships in Africa embody the promise and paradox of Pan-Africanism as profoundly as that between Nigeria and South Africa. As the continent’s two largest economies and most influential democracies, both nations have long been regarded as indispensable partners in shaping Africa’s political destiny, economic integration and global standing. Yet today, that relationship is increasingly overshadowed by recurring xenophobic violence against African migrants, particularly Nigerians, raising difficult questions about solidarity, memory and the future of African unity.
Every fresh outbreak of attacks on foreign nationals in South Africa reverberates far beyond Johannesburg, Durban or Pretoria. In Nigeria, the images of businesses looted, innocent lives lost, and families displaced evoke not merely anger but a profound sense of betrayal. They reopen old wounds in a relationship built on extraordinary sacrifice and shared aspirations.
For many Nigerians, the issue transcends immigration. It is a moral question rooted in history. During the long struggle against apartheid, Nigeria stood firmly with the oppressed people of South Africa when doing so carried considerable diplomatic and economic costs. Successive Nigerian administrations made the eradication of apartheid the cornerstone of the country’s Afrocentric foreign policy. As former Minister of External Affairs, Professor Bolaji Akinyemi, famously articulated, Africa was not simply one region among many in Nigeria’s foreign policy; it was its centrepiece.
That philosophy translated into action. Nigeria imposed sanctions on the apartheid regime long before many Western countries were prepared to do so. It mobilised diplomatic pressure through the Organisation of African Unity, the Commonwealth and the United Nations. More importantly, ordinary Nigerians became active participants in the liberation struggle through the Southern African Relief Fund, contributing voluntarily to support South Africa’s freedom movement.
Civil servants donated portions of their salaries. Students, market women, labour unions, churches, journalists, academics and professional associations contributed financially and morally to the struggle. Nigerian universities opened their doors to South African students denied education under apartheid, awarding scholarships that enabled an entire generation of young South Africans to acquire knowledge that apartheid sought to deny them. These sacrifices were not driven by material interest. They reflected Nigeria’s conviction that the freedom of one African nation was inseparable from the dignity of the continent as a whole.
Nelson Mandela repeatedly acknowledged this historic debt. Following his release from prison, he publicly expressed gratitude for Nigeria’s unwavering support, recognising that the struggle against apartheid was sustained not only by South Africans but also by African nations that refused to remain indifferent. Former President Thabo Mbeki similarly acknowledged Nigeria’s enduring solidarity during South Africa’s darkest years.
It is against this historical backdrop that recurring xenophobic violence generates such profound disappointment among Nigerians. Yet honesty demands that we avoid simplistic conclusions. Xenophobia does not define South Africa, nor should the actions of violent criminals be mistaken for the values of an entire nation. Countless South Africans continue to welcome Nigerians as neighbours, business partners, professionals, students and fellow Africans. Likewise, Nigerians continue to admire South Africa’s constitutional democracy, world-class universities, thriving creative industries and remarkable resilience.
The deeper challenge lies elsewhere. Persistent unemployment, widening inequality, organised criminality, weak law enforcement, political opportunism and misinformation have combined to create an environment in which migrants too often become convenient scapegoats for complex socio-economic problems. Blaming foreign nationals neither creates jobs nor resolves structural economic challenges. Instead, it fuels division, weakens investor confidence and damages South Africa’s standing across the continent.
As the Sudanese scholar and diplomat Francis Deng wisely observed, “Identity becomes a problem when it becomes the basis for exclusion.” Nowhere is that warning more relevant than in contemporary Africa, where colonial borders separated peoples who share common histories, cultures and aspirations.
Nigerian political philosopher, late Professor Claude Ake, consistently argued that development cannot flourish where insecurity and exclusion become instruments of politics. Likewise, the late Professor Ali Mazrui reminded Africans that Pan-Africanism must be measured not by speeches delivered at summits but by how Africans treat one another in everyday life.
That challenge belongs not only to governments but also to ordinary citizens. In his writings on migration, humanitarian affairs and African development, Samuel Orovwuje has argued that sustainable peace on the continent depends upon people-centred leadership, inclusive governance and stronger humanitarian cooperation among African states. His perspective offers an important reminder that diplomatic agreements alone cannot rebuild trust unless they are accompanied by genuine human connections between African societies.
Governments negotiate treaties. People build relationships. If Nigeria and South Africa are to restore confidence, they must move beyond episodic diplomatic protests towards a long-term agenda of societal engagement.
The first priority should be educational diplomacy. Both countries should jointly establish a Nigeria–South Africa Future Leaders Scholarship Programme to support undergraduate and postgraduate exchanges in medicine, engineering, technology, agriculture, public policy, law, and the creative industries. Young Africans who learn together are far less likely to fear one another.
Second, universities should establish permanent research partnerships focusing on migration, governance, public health, artificial intelligence, climate change, entrepreneurship and conflict prevention. Academic collaboration produces not only knowledge but enduring personal networks capable of strengthening bilateral relations for decades.
Third, cultural diplomacy deserves renewed investment. Nollywood and South Africa’s globally respected film and music industries possess enormous power to reshape public perceptions. Joint productions, literary festivals, youth exchanges, sporting competitions and artistic collaborations can challenge stereotypes more effectively than official communiqués.
Fourth, the private sector should assume greater responsibility. A Nigeria–South Africa Business Council with dedicated mechanisms for protecting cross-border investments, resolving commercial disputes and supporting entrepreneurs would transform economic interdependence into a stabilising force rather than a source of tension.
Fifth, both governments must strengthen intelligence sharing and law enforcement cooperation against organised criminal networks while making an unambiguous distinction between criminality and lawful migration. Crime has no nationality. Justice should target offenders, never entire communities.
Finally, South Africa’s educational institutions should deepen the teaching of Africa’s liberation history. Many young South Africans understandably did not experience apartheid and may know little about the sacrifices made by Nigeria, Zambia, Tanzania, Botswana, Angola, Mozambique and other African nations that invested resources, diplomatic capital and human solidarity in South Africa’s liberation. Historical memory is not merely about honouring the past; it is essential to safeguarding the future.
Nelson Mandela once reminded humanity that, “To be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.” That timeless principle remains the moral compass for democratic South Africa.
Nigeria is justified in demanding greater protection for its citizens. South Africa carries the constitutional and moral responsibility to guarantee the safety and dignity of everyone residing within its borders, irrespective of nationality. Equally, Nigerians must continue to distinguish between criminal elements and the overwhelming majority of South Africans who reject hatred and embrace the ideals of Ubuntu.
Eventually, neither country can afford an enduring estrangement. Africa’s economic transformation, continental integration under the African Continental Free Trade Area, regional peace and global influence will depend substantially on constructive cooperation between Abuja and Pretoria.
When Nigeria and South Africa stand together, Africa speaks with confidence. When they drift apart, the continent loses momentum. History brought these nations together in the struggle against oppression. Xenophobia has strained that historic bond, but it need not define its future. Through visionary leadership, scholarly collaboration, educational exchanges, cultural diplomacy, responsible media, vibrant business partnerships and renewed people-to-people engagement, Nigeria and South Africa can once again become the standard-bearers of Pan-African solidarity.
The task before both nations is therefore not merely to repair a diplomatic relationship. It is to restore faith in the African idea itself.
Orovwuje, a public affairs analyst and founder of Humanitarian Care for Displaced Persons, Lagos, writes via [email protected]. 08034745325
