By LaBode Obanor
The 2024 Miss Universe competition in Mexico celebrated the remarkable journey of Chidimma Adetshina, a South African-born contestant representing Nigeria. She defied extraordinary challenges, emerging as the first runner-up and being crowned Miss Africa and Oceania. Her success is not just a personal achievement but a symbol of resilience, shining a spotlight on South Africa’s deep-rooted failure to address entrenched xenophobia. Adetshina’s journey serves as a powerful indictment of a society that systematically undermines African unity by fostering hostility toward foreign nationals, especially Nigerians.
Her ordeal began when South Africans rejected her candidacy for Miss South Africa last summer, questioning her nationality and labeling her “not South African enough.”
Xenophobia is the irrational fear, hatred, or discrimination against people perceived as outsiders or foreigners, often manifesting in exclusionary attitudes, prejudice, and violence.
The xenophobic backlash agaisnt Chindinma reflects a broader pattern of exclusion and hatred toward Nigerians and other African migrants in South Africa. Despite having spent her entire life in the country, Adetshina faced vitriol, forcing her to withdraw from the competition and seek representation through Nigeria—a decision that ultimately allowed her to triumph on the global stage.
South Africa’s xenophobic tendencies are not new. The country has witnessed repeated waves of violence and discrimination against foreign nationals, with Nigerians often scapegoated for socio-economic issues, such as being accused of “taking jobs” or dominating industries—sentiments that reflect broader socio-economic frustrations. These issues manifest in violent attacks, property destruction, discriminatory policies, and calls to exclude foreigners from economic opportunities, becoming a hallmark of South African society.
The government’s response, however, has been alarmingly passive, with little effort to implement meaningful reforms or counter the pervasive adversarial and parochial rhetoric festering among its citizens.
For Adetshina, the exclusionary attitudes were rooted in cultural and national spaces. Despite her status as a South African citizen by birth, her identity was called into question, leading to her withdrawal from the Miss South Africa pageant and igniting a debate on inclusion and prejudice. A pertinent question that persists among other Africans is whether being born with black skin in South Africa and fluency in its languages is insufficient to be recognized as South African.
This raises the fundamental question: who can genuinely be considered a South African? Upon contemplation, I found myself leaning toward the notion that perhaps one must possess an ancestral lineage tied to South Africa. To be regarded as “South African enough,” one’s roots may need to be deeply embedded in the nation’s heritage. However, this perspective was challenged when I observed the individual crowned Miss South Africa following Adetshina’s exclusion—a white woman with a French-sounding name, whose ancestry is shrouded in secrecy and lacks any connection to the indigenous people of South Africa or the African continent at large.
At this point, I quickly disabused myself of my delusion and concluded that opposition to Adetshina was less about national identity and more about black-on-black hatred and resentment of other Africans, making South Africa’s national problem disturbingly worrisome.
The failure to address these issues reflects poorly on South Africa’s leadership, particularly its unwillingness to tackle the systemic inequalities that fuel xenophobia. Instead of fostering solidarity and cooperation with fellow Africans, the South African government has allowed hate and division to thrive. This is particularly ironic for a nation that benefited from pan-African solidarity during its struggle against apartheid—a cause that garnered unwavering support from countries like Nigeria.
The government’s continued inaction sends a dangerous message. By failing to curb bigotry and racialism that have woven into the country’s fabric, South Africa risks eroding the foundations of Pan-Africanism and unity that Nelson Mandela envisioned. It must implement stricter measures to curb hate speech, ensure accountability for xenophobic attacks, and educate its citizens about the value of diversity and solidarity.
The country must do better—rejecting division and embracing the collective potential of the continent. Until then, stories like Adetshina’s will remain bittersweet symbols of resilience against a backdrop of prejudice and exclusion.
Where hate festers, love and endurance conquer. Chidimma Adetshina’s story is a powerful rebuttal to this hatred. While South Africa rejected her, she not only represented Nigeria with grace and resilience but also embodied the spirit of African unity. She illuminated the global stage, beaming with smiles, exuding joy with her head held high, radiating the proud warrior spirit of the ancestral Savannah that is Africa.
Her achievements force a reckoning with the question: why does South Africa, a prominent figure on the continent, struggle to embrace its African identity? This discussion warrants further exploration.
At this juncture, it is imperative to underscore that Chidimma’s triumph as Miss Africa and Oceania serves as a poignant reminder that Africa’s strength lies in its unity. Her success at Miss Universe offers a counter-narrative, highlighting the significance of perseverance and self-belief in overcoming prejudice. While certain individuals in South Africa sought to exclude her, Adetshina’s triumph is a testament to the power of unity and inclusivity. Her story resonated across the continent, with Nigerians commemorating her as a symbol of African excellence and a refutation of hate.
Chidimma Adetshina’s achievements transcend personal glory; they inspire broader conversations and spark wider discourse on the impact of xenophobia on societal cohesion, advancement, unity, and progress.
Serving as a beacon of optimism, her story becomes a rallying cry for a more inclusive and tolerant Africa—one that recognizes and celebrates its shared humanity.
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LaBode Obanor is a Social Justice Advocate. Contact Jlabode74@gmail.com