African immigrants have long been drawn to Johannesburg, South Africa’s economic center. The city is a ray of hope for people looking for a better life, but beyond the city’s busy streets and dazzling buildings, the lack of integration and safety prevails.
- Deep scars from xenophobic attacks in 2008, 2015, and 2019 underscore the necessity of communication and understanding in order to resolve conflicts between residents and foreign migrants.
- Johannesburg’s economy benefits significantly from migrant-owned businesses, despite facing challenges in accessing formal employment and documentation.
- Vibrant networks of entrepreneurship and support have grown in the face of hardship, and migrant-owned companies that employ South Africans and boost the local economy have shown incredible tenacity and will.
In a tiny salon tucked between cafés and clothing stores on a busy Braamfontein street, Privilege Jumo, a 29-year-old nail technician from Zimbabwe, leans over his client’s hands, focused yet very calm. Taxis hoot non-stop, and the air smells of acetone and hair moisturisers. Between brush strokes, Jumo shares his story, about movement, hustle, and hope in the city where he currently resides.
“When I decided to come to South Africa, I was seeking greener pastures,” he says, reflecting on his 2019 arrival in Johannesburg. He came to pursue his studies in engineering, but soon realized that surviving in Johannesburg required more than qualifications.
“The process of getting funding for my studies was not easy ,so I ended up dropping out”, he admits. Jumo set up a business after having trouble finding steady work because he did not have a work permit. He now runs a nail technician business, relying on word of mouth and digital marketing to get clients.
“To get employed in Johannesburg, you need a work permit. And the government has not been issuing them for quite some time,” he says.
Jumo’s words echo a widespread frustration among foreign immigrants who find themselves caught between legal issues and economic necessity. Many are forced to develop their own ways in the informal sector since they do not have legitimate work permits or residency status.
It is obvious that his story is a metaphor for Johannesburg’s informal sector, which depends on necessity and adaptability to thrive. Most citizens benefit from these small businesses that migrants have started because of being excluded from formal work.
Juliet Mashabela, acting chief economist at Productivity SA, an entity of the South African Department of Employment and Labour, explains the role of migrants in Johannesburg: “They create employment through small-scale entrepreneurship, circulate money within communities, and contribute significantly to local consumption patterns.”
However, their existence is usually politicised. “Data consistently shows that migrants are net contributors to urban growth, but in times of economic distress, they become target for unemployment and crime”, Mashabela continues.
For decades, Johannesburg has been a magnet for migrants, both foreign and domestic. People looking to improve their lives are drawn to the city by its economic prospects, cultural diversity, and relatively stable political system. Data from Statistics South Africa shows that about 1,42 million foreign migrants came to live in Gauteng between 2022 and 2025, with many of them settling in the inner-city suburbs of Johannesburg.
Professor Loren Landau, an international migration specialist at the African Centre for Migration & Society (ACMS), says migrant labor is key to Johannesburg’s formal and informal sectors.
“Migrants who contribute to the retail sector, service, and construction sectors are often overlooked by the official system. Instead of searching for possibilities, they work together to create them. However, the city’s promise of opportunities is mixed with uncertainty. Migrants are frequently caught in cycles of instability as a result of xenophobic violence, limited access to documentation, and limited economic opportunities”, he explains.
Xenophobic attacks in Johannesburg
Recurrent outbreaks of xenophobic violence have revealed deep socioeconomic divides that lie beneath the “World Class African City”, as South Africans – many of whom are unemployed and living in poverty – accuse foreign migrants of snatching opportunities, jobs, and homes.
During the most notorious outbreaks, in 2008, 2015, and 2019, many people were killed, and thousands were left homeless, their stores plundered, and their homes torched. Many of the victims were small business owners who had established their lives in Johannesburg’s congested inner-city neighborhoods such as Hillbrow and Yeoville, and in the township of Alexandra, migrants from African countries like Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Nigeria, and the Democratic Republic of Congo.
“I still remember the xenophobic attacks that occurred in 2008 like it was yesterday, just thinking about it makes me sad because I lost a lot of close friends and relatives”, said Hugette Mbombo, a 45-year-old hairdresser from Congo.
In 2022, under the banner of “Operation Dudula”, anti-immigrant sentiment reappeared in Johannesburg’s townships, targeting migrants, informal traders, and foreign-owned enterprises.
Siphiwe Ndlovu, a community leader from Alexandra, admits the conflicts but thinks communication is essential. “We must stop viewing immigrants as rivals. They contribute to the success of our communities by employing South Africans in many of their enterprises”, Ndlovu explained.
Instead of tackling the underlying causes of problems like inequality, unemployment, and poor urban planning, the government’s reaction is still primarily reactive, sending out police during flare-ups.
Although widespread attacks have decreased, xenophobia is still present in daily life. Immigrants report experiencing subtle forms of prejudice in public services, rental markets, and workplaces. “Sometimes you can feel it in how people look at you like you don’t belong,” says Mbombo. “Even after so many years, they still call us kwerekwere (foreigners)”, Mbombo adds.
Civil society groups and researchers point to economic frustration and weak governance as drivers of these tensions. With youth unemployment sitting above 33%, foreigners are frequently used as easy scapegoats.
However, Landau explains that xenophobia is not simply about foreigners, “It reflects a deeper crisis of inequality and exclusion. Migrants are just the visible face of a system that fails most of its citizens,” he says.
Integration in Johannesburg is an ongoing negotiation between acceptance and exclusion. Even after years or even decades of residence in South Africa, many migrants continue to face social and legal marginalisation.
According to research conducted by the Center for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation (CSVR), prejudice is not an isolated incident but rather is ingrained in South Africa’s system. It is caused by political scapegoating, unemployment, and the belief that immigrants “take jobs” from South Africans.
In truth, studies from the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) and the African Centre for Migration & Society (ACMS) suggest that migrants are more likely to create employment than to take it away. They fill labour shortages, open small enterprises, and stimulate demand in township economies.
Professor Landau attests to these studies, saying that, “integration does not only regularise their status. Without proper documentation, you can’t open a bank account, register a business, or rent legally. The system perpetuates informality.”
Migrants and the Informal Economy
The sounds of blow dryers mix with the chatter of clients and other street vendors as Mbombo moves gracefully through her small salon. Her hands are steady, talented, and sure as she braids hair. Each braid tells a story of strength, migration, and identity.
Mbombo came to South Africa in 2003 to escape the instability in Kinshasa. She had nothing except a suitcase and a desire to start again. “When I first came to Johannesburg, I didn’t know anyone,” she recalls, her voice warm but firm. “I only had my hands and the skill my mother taught me.”
Starting as a mobile hairdresser, Mbombo would walk from one flat to another in Hillbrow and Berea, offering affordable styles to fellow African migrants trying to make ends meet. She saved up enough money over time to rent a modest area that was only sufficient for two sofas and a mirror. That small beginning has turned into a successful salon that is very important to her parenting her three kids.
“I wanted to create something stable for my children,” Mbombo says. “Many people see foreign women like me only as outsiders or survivors. But we also serve as businesswomen, creators, and a part of our city’s history.”
For Mbombo, Johannesburg is a place of both opportunity and hardship. She discusses openly the difficulties of managing a business, such as xenophobic animosity, rent increases, and immigration visas. “When the attacks happened in 2019, I closed my salon for two weeks,” she remembers quietly. “People were scared. I was also scared. But I told myself, I’ve built this life here, I’m not going to give up.”
Her salon has since become more than a workplace; it is a small refuge for women in the migrant community. Between styling and laughter, conversations often drift to family back home, school fees, and dreams of stability. “We support each other,” Mbombo explains. “When one sister is struggling, the others help. That’s how we survive.”
Two decades later, Johannesburg feels like home, even if it does not always treat her as such. Mbombo smiles as she looks out onto the street outside her salon, alive with taxi hooters and street vendors calling for customers. “This city gave me a second chance,” she says. “It’s not perfect, but it gave my children and me a better life.”
According to Stats SA’s 2022 Labour Force Survey, Johannesburg’s informal economy employs nearly 30% of the city’s labour force. A significant portion of this sector consists of migrants who operate tiny spaza shops, sell food, fix electronics, and trim hair.
According to Mashabela, the city’s economy benefits from about R100-billion in annual revenue from the sale of goods, services, and rent from unofficial migrant-owned enterprises.Yet, few of these contributions are formally recognised.
“They are effectively invisible in GDP calculations and policy planning”, she notes. “But if migrants were suddenly removed, inner-city economies would collapse overnight.”
The administrative obstacles facing migrants in South Africa are immense. The Department of Home Affairs (DHA) is often criticised for its inefficiency, corruption, and restrictive restrictions. Residency, work permit, and asylum renewal applications can take years to process. In recent years, the administration has spoken more about “irregular immigration” and linked foreigners to crime and stress in society.
“Migrants become convenient scapegoats,” says Landau. “But blaming migration distracts from the need for broader economic reform and inclusive development”.
Rethinking Belonging in a ‘World-Class African City’
Amid such adversity, NGOs like the African Diaspora Forum in Johannesburg, and Jesuit Refugee Service in Cape Town, provide support like psychosocial help, entrepreneurial training, and legal assistance. Through neighborhood markets, athletic events, and religious gatherings, grassroots projects often headed by migrants themselves promote social solidarity. These spaces promote intercultural dialogue and remove stereotypes. Although Jumo’s and Mbombo’s futures are still uncertain, they are not hopeless.
“Trying other cities is definitely going to be my next option,” Jumo muses. Mbombo still has hopes and dreams of sending her children to university. “I want them to have papers, education, and respect. Perhaps they may be referred to as South Africans in the future,” she says.
Their words provide a more complex conversation that the one that is often reduced to statistics and slogans. Essentially, immigrants are humans looking for dignity, not boundaries. Johannesburg’s reputation as a “World-Class African City” is seriously threatened by the way it treats foreign migrants on a daily basis.
Despite the fact that the city relies on variety and a strong economy, social animosity and laws that prohibit people from living freely in the city undermine its future goals. According to experts, inclusive migration management which includes access to documentation, support for small enterprises, and anti-xenophobic education may turn migration from a catastrophe into a positive force.
As Landau puts it, “The issue is not migrants. They are part of the solution. The question is whether South Africa is ready to embrace that reality”.
In the end, Johannesburg’s story is for everyone who lives in it. Through bravery, adaptability, and unwavering optimism, migrants like Jumo and Mbombo continue to influence the beat of the city, demonstrating perseverance, participation, and a common goal of creating a better life.
FEATURED IMAGE: A photo of a march and march protest against illegal immigration.
Photo by:Nomfundo Zungu
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