“Just trying to live our lives”: Nigerians Abroad Speak Out on Rising Xenophobia Narratives
For many Nigerians living overseas, the dream of opportunity still beckons. But increasingly, that dream is clouded by stories of suspicion, hostility and, at times, open discrimination from some host communities.
In Johannesburg, where a sizeable Nigerian community lives and works, tensions have simmered once more. In February 2026, the Nigerian Consulate in the South African city issued an emotional call for calm after a compatriot, Emeka Clement Uzor, was reportedly killed in an attack that locals described as xenophobic. The consulate condemned the violence and urged fairness in how Nigerians are portrayed — warning against generalising all Nigerians as criminals. Authorities have promised a thorough investigation.
South Africa’s long history of anti-migrant sentiment is well-documented. Groups like Operation Dudula, originally formed on an anti-crime platform, have faced fierce criticism for blocking access to services for foreign nationals — including pregnant Nigerian women — and expanding their campaign under slogans such as “Put South Africa First”. Critics argue that this feeds fear and mistrust rather than insight.
Yet life for many Nigerians there remains daily and deeply personal. One young woman, born and raised in Pretoria, told Al Jazeera last year that she now tries not to disclose her Nigerian heritage “because I didn’t feel safe”, even among neighbours and classmates.
It is not only South Africa where stories of anti-Nigerian sentiment have surfaced.
In Ghana, a widely shared protest on social media — often captioned “Nigerians Must Go” — sparked alarm among Nigerians living there in mid-2025. Organisers claimed concerns about crime and economic displacement, while Nigerian residents described the scenes as a deliberate attempt to stir hostility. The Ghanaian government’s own foreign affairs ministers later urged calm, stressing that Nigerians were free to live and work there without fear of forced expulsion.
Fact-checking organisations have also stepped in. A viral video purporting to show shops owned by Nigerians being demolished was found instead to depict a local anti-drug campaign in Accra, not an attack on Nigerian traders.
Beyond the headlines, Nigerians abroad relay a mixed picture — ranging from normal everyday life to moments of discomfort and worry.
On forums where Nigerians share diaspora experiences, some users describe a rise in vitriol on social media, suggesting that negative stereotypes feed into broader global sentiments. One contributor recently noted that anti-Nigerian comments online — from dismissive remarks to outright xenophobic messages — have felt more visible in the past few years.
Others recount facing subtle career setbacks or social bias in places as varied as the UK and other parts of Africa, where assumptions about Nigerian identity are sometimes intertwined with stereotypes about crime or economic hardship.
Yet not all experiences are bleak. Some residents abroad emphasise that isolated incidents should not be mistaken for universal hostility — and caution against generalising entire populations based on social-media noise.
The narrative of anti-Nigerian sentiment abroad is neither simple nor uniform. Experts stress that economic frustration, misinformation and online echo chambers can blow isolated incidents out of proportion, contributing to a sense of collective grievance on both sides of the borders. But policymakers and community leaders agree on one point — branding an entire nationality as unwelcome only deepens distrust and erodes cohesion.
For Nigerians abroad, the balancing act continues: pursuing their aspirations while navigating perceptions that are sometimes more complex than the headlines suggest.
