Stumbling block on the road to WAOH

“We are one humanity!” This bold declaration begs for a thorough interrogation.

Are we born one in humanity or do we need to deliberately forge oneness in humanity? Can the exploiter and the exploited be lumped together in one humanity? What about the dispossessor and the dispossessed? Can the oppressor and the oppressed be one in humanity?

Proclaiming that “we are one humanity” comes with a deep conviction and responsibility on the one who claims or subscribes to the oneness and indivisibility of humanity. It entails a never-ending struggle to free oneself from all forms of stereotypes and prejudices about “others.” It comes with a personal decision not to intentionally exploit, oppress, dispossess, manipulate, dominate or discriminate against a fellow human under the banner of class, colour, caste, gender, religion, non-religion, nationality, etc.

One of the stumbling blocks on the road to shared humanity is xenophobia: the fear and hatred of foreigners.

Most of us have experienced xenophobia at some point in our life journeys. Either as victims or as perpetrators. As a child, I grew up fearing people from Rhodesia (present day Zimbabwe). Each and every one in my village, young and old, spoke of man-eating Rhodesians. Girls were warned never to fall in love with Rhodesian men, let alone marry them. My image of a Rhodesian cannibal was a black man. In spite of the fact that Rhodesia at the time was ruled by a white minority. In fact, the country was named after a white man called Cecil John Rhodes. In my young mind, certainly in the minds of my fellow villagers, a white man couldn't possibly be a man-eater. Never! We thought as programmed by a cruel race history.

Of course no one was ever mentioned by name as having been cannibalised by Rhodesians. None whatsoever! It's because xenophobia feeds and flourishes on misinformation, exaggerations and unfounded allegations. Call it fake news if you like.

SCAPEGOATING

My beloved present-day South Africa has been rocked by a series of violent xenophobic flare-ups since the new dispensation was ushered in, in 1994. The end of apartheid brought hope for a new, inclusive South Africa. However, the influx of migrants, particularly but not exclusively from other African nations, seeking better opportunities in South Africa has often been met with hostility. These migrants are repeatedly scapegoated for the country's soaring crime rates and other social ills. Admittedly some of them were arrested for and convicted of heinous criminal offences. Without doubt some of them are hardened criminals.

The root causes of xenophobia in South Africa are multifaceted. Economic frustration plays a significant role, as many South Africans struggle with high unemployment rates and feel aggrieved that foreigners are taking jobs that should be theirs. Matter-of-factly, the economic sectors like hospitality, private security, agriculture and construction generally shun the unionised indigenous labour force - preferring the undocumented, underpaid and legally vulnerable migrants. Thus worsening the situation.

The lack of service delivery in many communities, coupled with competition for limited resources, further exacerbates tensions. Additionally, political leaders and media outlets have sometimes contributed to the problem by making inflammatory statements or failing to condemn xenophobic acts decisively.

Corruption emanating from government officials has further complicated matters. Aided and abetted by crooked home affairs officials, migrants can easily bribe their way to full SA citizenship status, entitling them to free housing and other essential services: heightening the resentment among the poor and homeless South Africans.

The bloodiest  attacks on foreign nationals took place in May 2008. The spark was ignited in Alexandra township, Johannesburg, and soon engulfed seven of the country's nine provinces. The death toll stood at 62, including 21 South Africans. Thousands were injured. Ironically, the first victim of the so-called xenophobic attacks was a South African: born, bred and bona fide. Obviously he was mistaken for a foreigner.

In South Africa it's easy to be mistaken for a foreigner if you're black.

On a few occasions I've been mistaken for a foreigner in my homeland. Some years ago, returning from West Africa, I joined the queue for South African citizens in line with immigration procedures. Mimicking Nigerian English accent, an immigration officer advised me to join the queue for the aliens. I flashed my green South African passport and she said I looked like a foreigner. I laughed and told her that I wasn't surprised because I was returning from Serra Leone and Ghana, where the locals greeted me in their language, thinking I was a native. One man in Ghana even mistook me for his relative.

Fortunately for me, one civil person mistook me for a foreigner at a normally friendly place: an airport. Imagine if I were mistaken for a foreigner in the poverty stricken street by an angry mob during attacks on foreigners. Just imagine! Twenty-one fellow compatriots perished tragically because they looked like foreigners. And how does a foreigner look like in South Africa? He looks like the legendary Rhodesian cannibal.

Suffice it to say no one deserves to be killed on the account that they are foreigners. Or on any account for that matter; once humanity lives up to the standards of WAOH (we are one humanity).

Truth be told, South Africa is largely guilty of Afrophobic sentiments and attacks. Afrophobia must be a strain of xenophobia focusing on fear and hatred of the African people. As applied in South Africa, an African country, Afrophobia is a classical case of self-hate. I sometimes suffer from bouts of it.

My disclosure is an attempt at self-medication.

I vividly recall travelling from Juba, South Sudan, to Nairobi in Kenya en route home. At first the flight was smooth and pleasant before we suddenly bumped into adrenalin-triggering turbulence. I thought of the colour of the crew. All black. And I feared for my life. My friend Mike Stainbank calls it “a slavery moment.” I have encountered countless of those moments in different places and circumstances.

As the world denounces South Africa for what it calls xenophobia, it ought to remember the mental chains the African people are still struggling to break. It ought to remember that South Africa is the most unequal country on the Planet Earth; where the opulent first world exists side by side with the impoverished third world.

Efforts to combat xenophobia must be comprehensive and sustained. Education and awareness campaigns are crucial in fostering a culture of tolerance and understanding. Economic reforms aimed at reducing inequality and improving job opportunities for all South Africans could help alleviate some of the frustrations that fuel xenophobic sentiments.

Beyond the economics and politics of xenophobia, as private citizens we can and we must open a front to forge a shared humanity, which is a guaranteed remedy against xenophobia and other forms of societal ills. Indifference in the face of xenophobic sentiments and attacks amounts to collusion with xenophobia. Whereas my focus is on South Africa, I'm aware that xenophobia is a global misfortune. This necessitates global networking and solidarity in mounting an effective challenge against it. Above all we need to fly high the banner of “We Are One Humanity.”