Category Archives: Oromo diaspora
‘We Are Walking Door to Door’: Anti-Immigrant Vigilantes Escalate Campaign of Intimidation Across South Africa
With tens of thousands repatriated to Zimbabwe and Malawi, a nation confronts the dark tide of xenophobia as weekly marches promise more violence
JOHANNESBURG, July 9 — The morning sun rose over Alexandra township, one of Johannesburg’s most densely populated communities, promising another day of uncertainty and fear. By midday, the streets echoed with the sound of splintering wood and desperate pleas as anti-immigrant vigilantes methodically moved from house to house, breaking down doors and dragging terrified residents into the open.
The scenes playing out across Alexandra, Soweto, and Durban represent a dangerous escalation in South Africa’s ongoing xenophobic crisis—one that has already forced tens of thousands of migrants to flee the country they once called home.
‘I Am a ZEP Holder’
Among those apprehended by the marchers was Total Mhlanga, a Zimbabwean national whose hands trembled as he was escorted toward a police van. “I am a ZEP holder,” he insisted, referring to the Zimbabwean Exemption Permit that legally allows tens of thousands of Zimbabweans to live and work in South Africa. His papers, however, seemed to matter little to those who had seized him.
In Alexandra, a Reuters reporter witnessed protesters breaking into homes where they believed undocumented immigrants were hiding. Among those forcibly removed was a woman clutching a small child—both citizens of Malawi, a country now grappling with the mass return of over 38,000 of its nationals who have fled South Africa in recent weeks.
A Zimbabwean mother of three, who asked not to be named for fear of retaliation, described watching from her window as neighbors were dragged from their homes. “I came here legally. My children were born here. This is the only home they know. Now I must decide whether to stay and risk everything or return to a country I left because there was no future there.”
‘Every Thursday Until Our Demands Are Met’
The movement driving this violence has found an unlikely and increasingly vocal leader: former radio presenter Jacinta Ngobese-Zuma. Her group, known as March and March (also referred to as “March 1 March”), has organized nationwide protests that have transitioned from street demonstrations to what community leaders describe as “door-to-door” operations targeting foreign nationals.
“Protests will take place every Thursday until our demands are met,” Ngobese-Zuma declared on June 30, an informal deadline her movement had set for undocumented immigrants to leave South Africa. The promise has become a terrifying reality for migrants across the country.
Her organization has painted undocumented immigrants as the source of South Africa’s deep-seated economic challenges—unemployment, housing shortages, and strained public services—demanding tighter border controls, mass deportation, and the prioritization of South African citizens in schools and healthcare facilities.
A Community Divided
At the march in Alexandra, community leader Bongani Msomi justified the tactics being employed. “We are walking around doing door to door removing foreigners,” he stated matter-of-factly, as behind him, protesters brandished sticks and flags.
Yet not all South Africans support the movement. In the same township, elderly residents watched with concern, some shaking their heads in silent disapproval. A local teacher, who also asked not to be named, expressed anguish over the situation: “We are destroying what Nelson Mandela built. Ubuntu is dead in these streets. These people are not our enemies—they are our neighbors, our customers, our children’s classmates.”
The Government’s Response—and Its Limits
President Cyril Ramaphosa has repeatedly warned against scapegoating immigrants for the country’s problems. His government has issued clear directives that citizens do not have the right to take immigration enforcement into their own hands.
Police have deployed officers to recent marches for safety and have stepped up arrests of undocumented migrants—yet the line between law enforcement and vigilantism has become dangerously blurred. At the scenes of Thursday’s protests, officers stood by as vigilantes dragged people from their homes. A spokesperson for Johannesburg police was not immediately available to explain the actions of officers at the scene.
Human rights organizations have raised urgent concerns about the complicity—or at minimum, inaction—of law enforcement in facilitating these “removals.” “When police receive citizens who have been unlawfully detained and physically removed from their homes, they are not acting as neutral enforcers of the law,” said a legal observer who requested anonymity. “They are, in effect, legitimizing extrajudicial actions.”
A Regional Humanitarian Crisis
The ripple effects of South Africa’s xenophobic violence are being felt across southern Africa. Malawi’s government confirmed Thursday that over 38,000 of its citizens had returned in recent weeks, part of a massive repatriation effort driven by safety concerns. Neighboring Zimbabwe has seen more than 60,000 of its nationals return—a staggering figure that represents not just a humanitarian crisis but an economic shock to both nations.
These returnees are arriving in countries that already struggle with their own economic challenges. Many had been sending remittances home, supporting extended families and local economies. Their forced return is creating new vulnerabilities while straining already limited resources in their countries of origin.
The Human Cost
Behind the statistics lie countless stories of shattered lives. A Malawian shopkeeper in Soweto watched his business—built over fifteen years—looted and destroyed. A Zimbabwean nurse who had served in a public hospital for a decade now sleeps in a shelter, uncertain if she will ever return to work. An Oromo refugee who fled political persecution in Ethiopia now faces violence in the country where he sought sanctuary.
“The pain is not just physical,” says Dr. Thabo Mbeki (not the former president), a community psychologist who has been providing counseling to affected families. “People are experiencing profound trauma. They have lost everything—their homes, their livelihoods, their sense of safety. Children are refusing to eat. Parents cannot sleep. The psychological wounds will last for generations.”
The Economic Fallacy
Economists have pushed back against the narrative that immigrants are the primary cause of South Africa’s economic woes. Studies have shown that immigrants often create jobs through entrepreneurship, fill critical skills gaps, and contribute to the tax base. The country’s unemployment crisis, they argue, has far deeper roots in systemic inequality, inadequate education, and stagnant economic growth.
“To blame immigrants for unemployment is not just inaccurate—it’s dangerous,” says economist Tendai Moyo. “It diverts attention from the real structural reforms that are needed. It gives people a scapegoat instead of solutions.”
A Nation at a Crossroads
South Africa stands at a defining moment. The post-apartheid constitution—one of the most progressive in the world—enshrines human dignity and equality. Yet the country’s actions are betraying these principles.
As Thursday’s marches conclude and communities brace for what next week may bring, a fundamental question remains: Will South Africa find the political will to protect the most vulnerable among its residents, or will it allow xenophobic violence to become normalized?
The international community is watching. The African Union has expressed concern. Human rights organizations have documented abuses. Diplomats from affected countries have raised the issue with their South African counterparts.
But for the families huddled behind locked doors—the legal permit holders who still fear arrest, the children too frightened to attend school, the business owners who have lost everything—the response so far has been insufficient.
A Plea for Humanity
As evening falls over Alexandra, the sound of broken glass crunches underfoot. Women sweep debris from their doorsteps. Men gather in small groups, their voices low with tension. Children peek through curtained windows, their games silenced.
“In a just world, this would not happen,” reflects one elderly South African woman who has lived in the township for seven decades. “We suffered under apartheid. We know what it is to be treated as less than human. How can we do this to others? How have we forgotten so quickly?”
Her question hangs in the air, unanswered.
The marches will continue, the groups have promised. And as long as they do, the fragile thread of pan-African solidarity—the very ideal that South Africa’s liberation struggle championed—grows thinner with each passing Thursday.
Reporting from Johannesburg, Alexandra township, and Soweto. Additional reporting from Lilongwe and Harare.
African Migrants Across South Africa Sound Alarm Over Escalating Violence, Economic Sabotage, and Systematic Intimidation
The Oromo and broader African diaspora face mounting threats from anti-migrant movements as ‘March 1 March’ and ‘Operation Dudula’ intensify nationwide
SOUTH AFRICA — Beneath the bustling streets of Johannesburg’s inner city, where the rhythms of pan-African commerce once thrived, a palpable fear now settles like an unwelcome fog. Across the nation, from the Cape Flats to the townships of Durban, African migrants who sought refuge and opportunity in the Rainbow Nation are now sounding an urgent alarm—their lives, their livelihoods, and their basic human dignity hang in the balance.
The crisis, while not new, has reached a critical precipice. African migrants, including thousands of Oromo refugees who fled political persecution in Ethiopia and other regions of the Horn of Africa, report being systematically targeted by organized anti-migrant movements. The groups operating under the banners of “March 1 March” and “Operation Dudula” have orchestrated campaigns that victims describe as coordinated efforts to economically cripple and physically intimidate foreign nationals.
‘We Came Seeking Safety’
For many Oromo migrants, the journey to South Africa began as a desperate flight from violence in their homeland. “I left Oromiya with nothing but the clothes on my back,” says Bontu, a mother of three who now runs a small tailoring business in Cape Town. “I came here believing in Ubuntu, the spirit of African unity. Now I lock my door and pray my children return from school alive.”
Bontu’s story is echoed across the country. Migrants who fled political instability, ethnic conflict, and economic collapse have found themselves facing a new nightmare—xenophobic violence that South African authorities have been slow to address.
Documentation of Widespread Violence
Representatives from affected communities have compiled extensive video evidence and firsthand testimonies documenting the severity of the crisis. The footage reveals disturbing scenes of organized brutality:
Economic Warfare and Property Destruction: In coordinated operations that appear strategically planned, businesses owned by African migrants have been systematically looted and destroyed. In Tembisa, Soweto, and other townships, foreign-owned shops have been reduced to smoldering shells. Vehicles have been set ablaze in broad daylight as onlookers record the destruction on their phones.
Organized Mob Violence: Victims describe targeted mass beatings and physical harassment. “They came in groups, armed with pangas and iron bars,” recounts Tadesse, an Oromo shopkeeper in Pretoria. “They didn’t ask for money. They wanted to destroy everything. They told us to ‘go back home.'”
Administrative Blockades and Intimidation: Even routine bureaucratic processes have become battlegrounds. Migrants report being subjected to threats and deliberate delays when attempting to renew residency permits or legal documentation—an essential process for maintaining lawful status in the country.
The Psychological Toll
Perhaps most devastating is the invisible wound—the psychological trauma inflicted upon entire communities. Parents across the nation have stopped sending their children to schools, fearing they may not return. Families remain confined to their homes, living in what victims describe as “continuous high anxiety.”
“My daughter asks why we can’t go to the park anymore,” says Bontu. “How do I explain to a seven-year-old that her skin, her language, her origins make her a target in a country that was supposed to welcome us all?”
Children who once dreamed of becoming doctors and teachers now live with nightmares of masked men breaking down their doors.
Operation Dudula: A Movement Under Scrutiny
Operation Dudula, which translates to “force” or “push back” in isiZulu, has positioned itself as a grassroots movement addressing legitimate concerns about unemployment and housing shortages in South African communities. However, critics argue the movement has crossed into dangerous territory by targeting vulnerable migrant populations rather than advocating for systemic solutions to the country’s deep-seated socioeconomic challenges.
March 1 March, another anti-migrant initiative, has similarly been linked to escalating tensions and violence against foreign nationals.
Both groups have denied accusations of xenophobia, maintaining they are addressing the strain that undocumented migration places on local resources. Yet the victims’ testimonies paint a different picture—one of organized intimidation targeting law-abiding residents who have contributed to their communities for years or even decades.
A Call to Action
Spokespersons from affected communities are distributing their documented evidence to international media outlets, civil society organizations, and human rights watchdogs. Their plea is clear: the South African government, law enforcement agencies, and the international community must act immediately to:
- Protect Vulnerable Populations: Deploy law enforcement to prevent further attacks and ensure perpetrators face consequences
- Uphold the Rule of Law: Ensure all residents, regardless of nationality, have equal access to legal protections and administrative services
- Address the Root Causes: Develop comprehensive strategies to address unemployment and service delivery challenges without scapegoating foreign nationals
- Promote Social Cohesion: Invest in community dialogue and education programs that counter xenophobic narratives
The Broader Context
South Africa has a complex history with migration. As the continent’s most industrialized economy, it has long attracted workers and entrepreneurs from across Africa. Yet recurring waves of xenophobic violence—in 2008, 2015, 2019, and now ongoing—have tarnished the nation’s reputation and contradicted its constitutional commitment to human dignity.
The Oromo diaspora, numbering in the thousands, represents a particularly vulnerable population. Having fled political persecution and ethnic conflict, many lack the robust social networks that might offer protection. They arrived with skills, determination, and hope—qualities that have enriched South African communities when given the opportunity.
An African Tragedy
As the sun sets over the continent, the irony is not lost on those caught in this crisis. African refugees who fled conflict zones, seeking safety within their own continent, now face violence from the very communities they sought to join.
“The dream of a united Africa feels very far away,” reflects Tadesse. “But I still believe. We must not let the actions of some destroy the vision of all. Our children deserve to inherit a continent of solidarity, not suspicion.”
The international community and African Union have mechanisms to address such crises—protocols on the protection of refugees, conventions on human rights, frameworks for continental solidarity. What remains to be seen is whether these instruments will translate into meaningful action before more lives are destroyed.
The Way Forward
South African civil society organizations have called for urgent dialogue between migrant communities, government representatives, and local leaders. Some municipalities have begun establishing community forums to address tensions constructively.
Human rights lawyers are preparing legal challenges against the most egregious violations, while grassroots peacebuilding initiatives work to rebuild trust between South African residents and their migrant neighbors.
Yet time is of the essence. The violence continues, the fear deepens, and the economic damage mounts. For every day that passes without meaningful intervention, more families are displaced, more livelihoods destroyed, and more children grow up in a world where “foreigner” has become synonymous with “target.”
A Shared Humanity
As one Oromo elder noted during a community meeting in Johannesburg, “We have forgotten that we are all African. The borders that divide us were drawn by colonial powers who wished to keep us fighting each other. Our strength lies in remembering our shared humanity.”
The crisis facing African migrants in South Africa is not merely a matter of domestic policy—it is a test of the continent’s commitment to the principles of pan-African unity and solidarity. How South Africa responds to this moment will send a message far beyond its borders.
In the meantime, families continue to lock their doors, children remain home from school, and communities pray for a dawn that brings not fear, but hope.
