On a clear morning in October, Nozie Khoza and her group of self-proclaimed patriots gathered at a public health clinic in Johannesburg, determined to enforce their vision of a South Africa reserved exclusively for citizens. When the facility opened at 7:30 a.m., the group demanded identification from all individuals seeking entry, asserting that only South Africans would be permitted inside.
“You belong to Nigeria, sweetheart,” Bongi Nomnganga, an ally of Ms. Khoza, told a young woman, barring her entry despite possessing a valid South African ID due to her Nigerian surname. Another associate questioned the legitimacy of the ID of a woman whose parents were from Mozambique, labeling it as fraudulent. Ms. Khoza, a 39-year-old mother of two, held no official authority to regulate access to the public clinic.
This surge in anti-immigrant hostility mirrors trends observed in the United States and Europe; however, only 5% of South Africa’s 65 million population comprises immigrants, according to government data. Foreigners accounted for just 3% of arrests in the past five years and 1.2% of violent crime arrests during the same period. Nonetheless, the government has intensified workplace inspections, penalizing employers who hire undocumented workers, and over 53,000 foreign nationals have been deported or repatriated since June. President Cyril Ramaphosa has pledged enhanced border security and cautioned against vigilante justice, though law enforcement has occasionally failed to intervene in harassment incidents targeting foreigners.
Ms. Khoza, born in Durban—a focal point of recent anti-immigrant unrest—developed her stance after relocating to Johannesburg at 23 to work in television production. She attributed urban decline to immigrant street vendors and foreign landlords neglecting property maintenance. A construction company she owns lost business contracts, which she blamed on Zimbabwean competitors offering lower bids. She also claimed her daughter’s enrollment in private school resulted from overcrowding caused by immigrant children in public schools. These grievances propelled her into March and March, an anti-immigrant group advocating for the removal of all foreigners, regardless of legal status.
In May, Ms. Khoza participated in a march by approximately 50 individuals targeting a residential property in her neighborhood, where they alleged illegal Congolese immigrants were residing. “We are sorry,” some protesters murmured as the homeowner, Sandra, a 38-year-old immigrant from the Democratic Republic of Congo, emerged with her youngest child, a two-week-old infant. Her husband, Pierre, sought police assistance, but officers advised the family to temporarily relocate to avoid confrontation.
Sandra had resided in South Africa for nearly 15 years, having fled civil war in Congo in 2008—the same year the country witnessed its first major post-apartheid xenophobic violence, marked by attacks on immigrants and foreign-owned businesses. Subsequent waves of violence occurred in 2015 and 2019, prompting international condemnation. Nations such as Nigeria have demanded compensation for citizens displaced by such unrest. Over time, Sandra adapted her behavior to minimize visibility as a foreigner: avoiding phone conversations in public transport, moderating music volume, and adopting local dress. Despite these precautions, vigilante groups continued to pressure her family.
Ms. Khoza expressed admiration for U.S. immigration enforcement tactics, particularly under the Trump administration, urging South Africa to adopt similar measures. “The government here should be doing exactly what Trump is doing,” she stated, emphasizing her belief in prioritizing South African interests. However, her actions have drawn criticism, including from her daughter, Owethu, 17, who described her mother as a “victim” and praised her “noble pursuit” against perceived systemic injustices.
Following a nationwide anti-immigrant protest on June 30—where undocumented migrants were given an ultimatum to depart—Ms. Khoza patrolled Johannesburg streets, instructing vendors to dismantle their stalls. Despite the deadline, many immigrant entrepreneurs continued operating, prompting confrontations. One vendor, presenting a passport, was dismissed by Ms. Khoza: “Mama, we don’t want your permit. The only thing we want is only South Africans in our country.” The vendor ultimately left, symbolizing the ongoing tension between local vigilantism and the resilience of immigrant communities.
