By Isaac Asabor

For years, a familiar refrain has echoed across parts of South Africa: “Foreign Africans are stealing our jobs.” It has been shouted in protests, repeated in political speeches, amplified across social media, and, tragically, translated into violence against migrants from Nigeria, Ghana, Zimbabwe, Malawi, Ethiopia, Somalia, Mozambique, and other African countries.

Shops have been looted.

Businesses have been torched. Families have fled. Thousands have returned to their home countries, not by choice, but because they no longer felt safe. Yet as the dust settles, an inconvenient question refuses to go away: if fellow Africans were truly the problem, who is now doing the jobs they supposedly stole?

An even harder question follows: why are businesses struggling now that so many migrants have left? That question deserves an honest answer from the leaders of Operation Dudula and the March and March movement, the figures who head South Africa’s most prominent anti-immigrant and nationalist advocacy groups.

Recent reporting from international media and South African observers suggests that the exodus of migrant workers has exposed how dependent several sectors of the economy had become on their labour and entrepreneurship. Agriculture, construction, transport, retail, and food distribution are all beginning to feel the strain.

The irony is hard to miss. For years, migrants were blamed for taking jobs from locals. Today, many businesses cannot find people to replace them. That reality alone should force a rethink of the narrative that foreigners were solely responsible for South Africa’s unemployment crisis. That crisis did not begin when Nigerians, Ghanaians, Zimbabweans, or Ethiopians arrived, and it will not end now that many of them have left.

South Africa’s unemployment problem is rooted in structural issues: sluggish economic growth, a shrinking manufacturing base, chronic electricity shortages, weak investment, mismatched skills, and policy uncertainty, factors behind one of the highest youth unemployment rates in the world. None of this was caused by a Somali or Ghanaian shop owner. None of it was caused by a Nigerian trader or a Zimbabwean artisan.

Blaming migrants for the troubles facing township businesses only distracts from these deeper issues. When foreign-owned spaza shops, South Africa’s neighbourhood convenience stores, began closing after weeks of anti-immigrant protests, many township residents assumed the only change would be who owned the till. Instead, they found themselves paying more for everyday essentials. The resulting price hikes have fuelled heated debate on social media, where videos of foreign shopkeepers packing up and leaving have dominated public conversation.

Beneath the political noise lies a bigger business story. The real contest for South Africa’s estimated R900 billion ($53.6 billion) township economy will not be settled by nationality. According to government officials and fintech companies, the future of local spaza shops will hinge on their ability to adopt digital payments, use merchant data, access embedded finance, and build more efficient supply chains. Those factors, not who owns the shop, will decide whether township retailers can stay affordable and viable.

That alone is a troubling story. But the most revealing findings are the ones documenting the unintended economic fallout of driving migrants out.

Reuters has reported that construction, farming, retail, and transport rely heavily on migrant labour, warning that their departure could deepen labour shortages and slow economic activity. The report also cited earlier research showing that migrants contribute meaningfully to South Africa’s GDP without necessarily displacing local workers. None of this should come as a surprise.

Before the recent wave of hostility, township retail strips were dotted with foreign-owned grocery stores, restaurants, tailoring shops, salons, mechanics’ workshops, and convenience stores. These businesses did not simply employ fellow foreigners, many employed South Africans, rented from South African landlords, bought stock from South African wholesalers, paid municipal charges, and fed local supply chains.

Forcing such businesses to close hurts South Africans nearly as much as it hurts migrants. One Nigerian businessman put it plainly: if he shut down and left, dozens of South Africans working for him would lose their jobs too. That statement should provoke reflection, not anger.

Economic activity is interconnected. When one business closes, suppliers lose customers, landlords lose tenants, transport operators lose passengers, consumers lose access to goods, workers lose income, and communities lose investment. No economy prospers by driving away productive people. None.

To be clear, every sovereign nation has the right to enforce its immigration laws. Illegal immigration should be addressed through lawful institutions, not mob justice. Anyone who commits a crime, citizen or foreigner, should be arrested, prosecuted, and punished under the law. But criminality should never be used to stigmatize an entire nationality or continent. Collective blame is neither justice nor policy.

President Cyril Ramaphosa has himself warned against scapegoating migrants and cautioned citizens against taking the law into their own hands. But the danger here goes beyond economics.

South Africa has long presented itself as a champion of African solidarity. Its liberation struggle inspired millions across the continent. Many African nations, including Nigeria, gave political, diplomatic, and material support to the anti-apartheid movement. That shared history makes today’s hostility all the more painful. Africans should not become enemies within Africa.

The African Continental Free Trade Area envisions deeper economic integration, freer movement of trade, and stronger regional cooperation. Persistent xenophobia undermines all of it. Investment follows stability. Entrepreneurs seek certainty. Workers seek safety. Tourists seek welcoming destinations. Hostility drives all four away.

Ultimately, South Africa must confront a difficult truth. If thousands of African migrants have left, yet unemployment remains stubbornly high and businesses are struggling to fill the gaps they left behind, then foreigners were never the principal problem. The real culprits are decades of weak growth, inadequate job creation, governance failures, infrastructure constraints, and policy shortcomings.

It is easier to blame outsiders. It is harder to confront structural realities. But only one of those paths leads anywhere.

South Africa’s future will not be secured by emptying shops of fellow Africans. It will be secured by filling factories with investment, classrooms with skills, power stations with reliable electricity, and boardrooms with policies that inspire confidence.

Dinesh Balsingh

For decades, the telecommunications industry competed on connectivity. Success was measured by the size of our networks, the number of subscribers we served, and the volume of voice and data we carried.

That era connected millions of Nigerians and laid the foundation for today’s digital economy. But connectivity alone is no longer enough.

According to the GSMA, mobile technologies and services contributed eight per cent of Nigeria’s GDP, equivalent to approximately $19bn, in 2023, while the sector supported hundreds of thousands of jobs directly and indirectly.

As Nigeria pursues its ambition of building a $1tn economy, the question is no longer how many people we connect, but how technology can help businesses become more productive, competitive and innovative.

The businesses that will lead the next decade will not necessarily be those with the biggest networks or the fastest speeds. They will be those that transform connectivity into productivity, intelligence and innovation. That is why the conversation across the telecommunications industry today is shifting from being a telco to becoming a techco.

Digital platforms are reshaping communication, with customers expecting more personalised experiences, while technologies such as Artificial Intelligence, cloud computing and the Internet of Things are changing how organisations create value. Today, the more important question for us is not simply, “How do we connect people?” but “How do we help people and businesses achieve more through technology?” This shift fundamentally redefines the role of technology companies in society.

Organisations are no longer looking for connectivity in isolation. They want technology solutions that improve efficiency, strengthen security, automate processes and enhance customer experiences. A retailer wants to connect hundreds of stores securely. A manufacturer wants real-time visibility across its operations. Hospitals need reliable digital infrastructure to improve patient care, while schools increasingly depend on technology to expand learning opportunities.

In every case, the objective is the same. Organisations are no longer buying connectivity. They are investing in outcomes.

For business leaders, this means digital transformation can no longer be viewed as an IT initiative. It is a strategic business imperative. According to International Data Corporation, global spending on digital transformation is expected to exceed $4tn by 2027, reflecting how technology has become central to competitiveness, operational efficiency and long-term growth.

Artificial Intelligence provides a clear example of this shift. At Airtel Nigeria, we recently introduced our AI-powered spam alert solution, which analyses network intelligence in real time to identify suspected spam calls before customers answer them. The technology itself is important, but the bigger lesson is that innovation should do more than connect people. It should protect them, simplify everyday experiences and solve real problems.

Mobile technology also presents a significant opportunity to deepen financial inclusion. According to the World Bank, millions of Nigerian adults remain outside the formal financial system. Through SmartCash Payment Service Bank, Airtel Nigeria is leveraging digital platforms to expand access to secure and convenient financial services, enabling more Nigerians and small businesses to participate in the digital economy. This reinforces an important reality: the future of technology lies in building ecosystems that empower people.

The Internet of Things represents another important frontier. The next generation of connected devices will extend beyond smartphones to include smart meters, medical devices, logistics assets, security systems and industrial equipment. These technologies will help businesses improve efficiency, reduce costs and make faster, data-driven decisions.

Nigeria is uniquely positioned to benefit from this transformation. With one of Africa’s youngest populations, expanding broadband infrastructure and a vibrant entrepreneurial ecosystem, the country has the opportunity to use technology to improve productivity across agriculture, healthcare, education, manufacturing and financial services.

However, this transformation cannot happen in isolation. It requires sustained collaboration between government, businesses, educational institutions and technology providers. Technology companies must continue investing in digital infrastructure and innovation. Businesses must treat digital transformation as a strategic priority. Policymakers must create an enabling environment for innovation, while educational institutions must equip young Nigerians with the skills required for an increasingly digital economy.

Ultimately, the future of the telecommunications industry will not be defined by who owns the most spectrum or builds the most towers. It will be defined by who helps customers create the most value.

Customers are no longer buying connectivity. They are buying productivity. They are buying intelligence. They are buying security. They are buying convenience. Above all, they are buying growth opportunities.

The journey from telco to techco is, therefore, more than the evolution of one industry. It is about reimagining how technology can unlock economic growth, improve lives and build a more inclusive digital economy for Nigeria.

The future is no longer connectivity. The future is productivity.

Dinesh Balsingh is the CEO of Airtel Nigeria

By Toyin Falola

Africa has had good leaders throughout its history who have been empire builders, thinkers, traders, kings, diplomats, and freedom fighters, who have established civilisations and made their impact on World history.

Certainly, before the rise of the modern nation-state, Africans already had elaborate political, trading, and intellectual networks, extending from Timbuktu to Great Zimbabwe, from Benin to Axum.

But even if the continent has such a rich history, there is one issue that haunts the discussions about the future of Africa: why has a continent blessed like this not managed to create institutions of prosperity and good governance?

The usual answers are certainly not entirely off base.

Colonialism had a significant impact on the politics and economy of Africa. Outside interference, imbalanced world markets, and geopolitical competition have historically prevented the continent from developing.

While all that is true, it does not tell the full story. The crucial issue is not just what history has done to Africa, but what Africa has been doing with its history up until now. It is an inescapable issue of leadership.

Leadership is often viewed simply in terms of people and elections. Public discourse fluctuates between berating corrupt politicians and hunting for a “saviour-president,” who will steer the country towards success. This approach is a misconception of the very essence of leadership.

Leadership is not just the art of governing but the process of creating institutions, gaining people’s trust and wielding power for the benefit of society. It defines how governments enhance their societies or serve themselves.

This is why Africa’s problem with its leadership has outlasted all transitions in politics. There have been military governments, there have been democracies with constitutions and political parties, but in many African countries, the nature of the relationship between the state and the citizen has not evolved nearly as much as the language surrounding it.

Governments may have changed, but too often, their styles of governance have remained locked into old cycles of patronage and centralisation. The historical origins of this phenomenon include the legacy of colonial government, which was intended to rule over subjects and not citizens. Its institutions were oriented towards extraction and not participation, obedience and not accountability, and administration and not democracy.

Political independence brought about the transfer of sovereignty, but it did not prove so easy to change the cultures of governing as it was to raise new flags. Postcolonial governments have been bequeathed bureaucracies meant to rule over citizens and not serve them.

Yet history must not serve as an alibi for failure. It informs but does not dictate destiny. Africa’s history since independence illustrates that institutions emerge from political decisions. It is governments, judges, legislatures, media, academics, civil servants, and citizens who give their countries their institutional characteristics.

The continent’s future will depend less on what it inherited and more on what it will create. That is why the leadership crisis facing Africa is also institutional. For decades, many societies have sought the exceptional individual that would save the state.

At each election, the belief emerges anew that some charismatic leader will root out corruption, rejuvenate economies or unify divided states. History suggests little encouragement for that belief. Countries are not made stable by having occasional exceptional leaders but by having institutions that can continue good governance after those exceptional leaders have gone away.

However, power and leadership are different. The first aims at perpetuation, whereas leadership is about taking responsibility. Power requires obedience, while leadership wins the trust of the people. Power centralizes it, while leadership diffuses it via institutions that will operate independently from the founder of such institutions. It is not just a philosophical statement.

This difference affects the independence of courts, the credibility of elections, the professionalism of civil servants, and the belief of people in the fact that government exists for the benefit of the citizens. The African experience provides vivid examples of that.

The legacy of Nelson Mandela, the President of South Africa, is not only his governance but his ability to show the way to exercise political power wisely. Likewise, Seretse Khama managed to build institutions in Botswana that remained even after his presidency.

Both leaders achieved success not because of the amount of power they had but because of their institutions. Personal governments face difficulties in surviving the political transition.

Strong institutions need more than just constitutions; they need intellectual confidence. Any nation that continuously questions the legitimacy of its knowledge cannot be considered an institution. Discussions about African development have, for too long, revolved around vocabulary and perspectives that Africans did not develop.

While some of those frameworks have been beneficial, policies have travelled from continent to continent without sufficient knowledge of history required to implement them appropriately. Africa needs to do the same.

African universities, research organizations and policy communities must take the initiative of becoming generators of knowledge instead of consuming knowledge generated by others. Good governance must begin with the question: “What works here?” This can only happen with a good degree of historical literacy and intellectual freedom.

It is therefore clear why education plays such a prominent role in Africa’s future. If a society teaches its young leaders to revere the history far away from home without knowing anything about its own intellectual tradition, it is undermining its leadership before it even comes into power.

Africans need to study Shakespeare in parallel to Achebe, Weber in parallel to Nyerere, and Jefferson in parallel to Nkrumah, not as some symbolic gesture but because good leadership is impossible without understanding how African reality is explained by its historical tradition while being linked intellectually to the rest of the world.

If intellectual confidence is the base of leadership, then ethics is its criterion. Public discussion often mixes up moral issues with those of governance. The public wants honest leaders, governments fight corruption, political parties pledge for transparency. Corruption persists because ethical governance is not only about personal virtue.

Public office is a public trust. Roads are built for farmers, traders and schoolchildren — not for ministers. National budgets are for the taxpayers, not the government. The constitution is meant to serve the people against any abuse of power.

When this perspective is eroded, politics slowly turns into a means of accumulating private interests at the expense of providing public service. Ability is sacrificed for connections, institutions become subservient to individuals, and citizens resort to lobbying more than justice. The solution requires much more than just regime change. It requires the building up of a republic.

Throughout the African continent, the practice of constitutional democracy is still being developed. Election matters because it enables the citizenry to elect their representatives peacefully. However, elections do not provide a sufficient mechanism for guaranteeing accountable governance. Democracy is in the day-to-day running of institutions such as the judicial branch, the electoral body, the bureaucracy, the parliament, and the media. This is not something that only the affluent nations can afford.

There are arguments that Africa needs less democracy and more discipline, arguing that constitutional restraints impede development and that having all power in the hands of an executive speeds up the process. There is little historical evidence to support this view. It is certainly true that authoritarian regimes can construct roads fast, but roads are not enough to build nations. Roads can be built in just a few years; public trust takes decades to develop.

Development that is dependent on one person does not outlive him or her. African leadership will have to be informed not only by institutions but also by the political culture of Africa. Far too often, the debate on development offered a false dilemma: African traditions versus modern governance. But Africa has always made progress by adapting and never imitating anything.

The value of Ubuntu, the Yoruba idea of Omoluabi, and many other ethical values of African societies should show us that power is legitimate because it serves the community and takes care of it. These traditions should not be romanticized, but they should not be dismissed either.

Indeed, the future of Africa depends more on the development of ordinary governments that operate exceptionally rather than finding exceptional leaders that operate mediocre governance. This continent has been blessed with sufficient talents, innovativeness, and resilience.

Its entrepreneurs are revolutionizing industries, its academics are growing knowledge, and its youth are defining Africa’s role in the world today.

The question is no longer whether Africa can produce competent leaders. History has already made it clear. The question is whether it can build institutions befitting such talent. The art of leadership is not the duty of presidents alone.

It is also the responsibility of universities that nurture independent thought, journalism that checks accountability, courts that respect constitutionalism, schools that instil civic values, businesses that conduct themselves ethically, and citizens that do not give up public affairs to patronage and impunity. Africa’s next act will not be played out by extraordinary personalities alone.

It will be enacted by nations that understand one fundamental truth: that nations are not strong because they have finally found their perfect leaders, but because they have developed the institutions to deal with their imperfections. That is the uncompleted task of leadership in Africa today.

Toyin Falola, a professor of History, University Distinguished Teaching Professor, and Jacob and Frances Sanger Mossiker Chair in the Humanities at The University of Texas at Austin, is the Bobapitan of Ibadanland.