The recent resurgence of xenophobic violence in South Africa should disturb every African, especially those who understand the power of words, culture, and art.

While governments debate immigration policies and law enforcement grapples with the challenge of undocumented migration, innocent lives continue to be lost, families are displaced, businesses are looted, and communities that once lived side by side are torn apart by fear, suspicion, and anger.

It is during moments such as these that artists, writers, musicians, poets, filmmakers, and cultural leaders must resist the temptation to remain silent. Silence has never healed societies; courageous voices have.

To condemn xenophobia is not to endorse illegal migration. These are two separate issues that should never be confused.

Every sovereign nation has the legitimate right to secure its borders, enforce its immigration laws, and expect that those entering the country do so legally.

South Africans are justified in demanding efficient immigration systems, accountable governance, and the enforcement of the rule of law.

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However, those legitimate concerns cannot become a licence for violence, mob justice, looting, or the targeting of people simply because they speak a different language or come from another African country. Criminality should be addressed through the law, not through collective punishment.

What is perhaps most worrying is how social media has become fertile ground for sensationalism, misinformation, and unverified allegations that inflame public emotions.

Rumours quickly become accepted as fact, isolated incidents are used to condemn entire communities, and narratives designed to provoke outrage often spread faster than verified information.

In such an environment, artists have an even greater responsibility to inject humanity into public discourse.

Their role is not to inflame emotions but to remind society that behind every statistic is a human life, behind every nationality is a family, and behind every label is a person deserving of dignity.

Artists have always been mirrors of society, but they are also custodians of its moral imagination.

Their work should challenge hatred wherever it emerges, whether it takes the form of xenophobia, Afrophobia, tribalism, racism, classism, or any other ideology that diminishes human dignity.

The purpose of creativity is not merely to entertain audiences but to preserve the values that hold societies together.

When prejudice begins to define public conversation, creatives must become voices of reason capable of restoring perspective, compassion, and social cohesion.

Africa’s liberation history reminds us that our destinies have always been interconnected.

During apartheid, South Africans found refuge, solidarity, and support across the continent. Countries including Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana, Tanzania, Angola, Mozambique, and others opened their borders to exiles, hosted liberation movements, provided military training bases, diplomatic support, and logistical assistance in the struggle against racial oppression.

Ordinary citizens across Africa sacrificed resources and accepted economic and political risks because they believed that the freedom of South Africa was inseparable from the freedom of the continent.

Remembering this shared history is not about suggesting that South Africa owes other African nations a favour.

Rather, it is about recognising that the bonds forged through a common struggle should continue to inspire mutual respect, solidarity, and humanity.

For creatives, this history carries an important lesson. Art has always been one of the strongest forces against division.

Songs sustained liberation movements. Poetry preserved hope during oppression. Theatre exposed injustice. Literature documented truths that governments often sought to suppress.

Today’s artists inherit that same responsibility. They cannot afford to become spectators while fellow Africans are dehumanised.

Their silence would represent a departure from the proud tradition of African artists who consistently stood on the side of justice and human dignity.

The conversation also invites important reflection within Zimbabwe itself.

While we rightly condemn attacks on Zimbabweans and other foreign nationals abroad, we must also examine the state of our own creative industries.

Zimbabwean arts promoters, event organisers, institutions, and corporate sponsors need to begin looking inward with greater intention.

The country’s entertainment landscape has developed an overwhelming dependence on imported acts, often investing substantial resources in foreign performers while local artists continue to struggle for visibility, investment, and sustainable opportunities.

International exchange will always enrich the arts, and there is nothing inherently wrong with welcoming artists from across Africa and beyond. Cultural exchange strengthens regional integration and broadens audiences.

The challenge arises when imported entertainment consistently overshadows local talent, creating an imbalance that limits the growth of Zimbabwe’s own creative economy.

A nation that continually imports culture without adequately investing in its own storytellers risks weakening its cultural confidence.

Supporting local artists should never be driven by hostility towards foreign creatives.

It should be driven by a commitment to building a resilient creative ecosystem capable of producing globally competitive work.

Zimbabwe possesses extraordinary musicians, poets, filmmakers, actors, dancers, writers, fashion designers, and visual artists whose potential can only be fully realised through sustained local investment.

Looking inward is not an act of exclusion; it is an act of nation-building.

Perhaps this is the deeper lesson emerging from these difficult conversations.

Africa does not need more walls between its people. It needs stronger institutions, fair immigration systems, accountable leadership, thriving local industries, and artists courageous enough to defend our shared humanity while also championing the development of their own communities.

Creatives should boldly reject xenophobia without endorsing illegal migration.

They should defend justice without excusing lawlessness. They should promote African solidarity without ignoring the importance of national development. These positions are not contradictory; they are complementary.

It is possible to advocate for secure borders while insisting that no human being deserves to be attacked because of where they were born.

At its best, art reminds us of a simple truth that politics sometimes forgets: before we are citizens of different nations, we are human beings.

And before we are divided by borders, languages, or passports, we are Africans whose shared history should inspire us to build bridges instead of barriers.

*Mthulisi Ndlovu (KingKG / KhuluGatsheni) is a poet, protest artist, cultural activist, and social commentator.