🚨🔵 Alejandro Garnacho can leave Chelsea this summer and he’s not untouchable.
In case of good proposal on permanent deal, #CFC ready to open doors to exit with initial movements started in terms of clubs keen.
Garnacho can leave after just one season at Chelsea.
Red cards are not overturned by political phone calls. They are overturned by rules, evidence and independent bodies. If a U.S. President intervenes with the FIFA President — and a player is suddenly cleared before a World Cup knockout match — the question is unavoidable: Quo vadis, FIFA?
Football must never become a playground for political power. #FIFA #WorldCup #GianniInfantino #DonaldTrump
Yet the very people demonstrating the entrepreneurial spirit that South Africa desperately needs are often those being targeted.
The migrant trader becomes an easy target. The Somali shopkeeper. The Zimbabwean artisan. The Ethiopian entrepreneur.
The tragedy is that many of them are doing precisely what apartheid sought to prevent among Black South Africans: taking risks, building enterprises, creating livelihoods and generating economic activity.
There is another dimension we must not ignore. In some communities, xenophobic violence intersects with criminality, extortion networks and local power struggles. Debts disappear when shops are burned. Competitors vanish when traders flee. Territory changes hands through intimidation rather than enterprise. What is presented as community anger can sometimes conceal economic opportunism and organised coercion.
We must also be honest about the wider geopolitical context. Across the world, powerful interests have long funded and amplified social divisions to weaken societies whose policies they oppose. We have seen external actors support campaigns and movements that deepen polarisation and undermine social cohesion.
South Africa is not immune.
Our positions on Palestine, our commitment to international law, our membership of BRICS, and our pursuit of an independent foreign policy have placed us at odds with powerful global interests. It would be naive to assume that no domestic or international actors seek to exploit our fractures. Xenophobia, crime, corruption and social despair can all be weaponised to create instability.
This does not mean every act of xenophobic violence is externally directed. Much of it emerges from our own unresolved wounds. But domestic pain can be amplified, organised and harvested by forces that benefit from division.
The deeper question remains: who benefits when Africans are turned against other Africans?
The old trade union movement taught us a profound lesson. Workers have no foreign enemy among the poor. The real enemies are exploitation, corruption, elite impunity, exclusion and failed governance.
South Africa has every right to secure its borders. It has every right to enforce its immigration laws and manage migration effectively.
But we must never confuse law enforcement with vigilantism, or border management with hatred.
Secure borders, yes. Lawful immigration, yes. Accountable Home Affairs, yes. But never vigilante cruelty. Never African-on-African hatred. Human dignity has no nationality.
Until we address the deeper wounds of our society, we will continue to mistake the symptom for the cause. 🙏🏾❤️
Jay Naidoo posted on Facebook
Xenophobia in South Africa: A Wounded Society Looking for a Visible Enemy
The root of xenophobia in South Africa is not immigration itself.
The root is a wounded society looking for a visible enemy.
Recent attacks on migrants have once again exposed a painful reality. African migrants are being blamed for unemployment, crime, poverty, and failing public services. Yet if we are honest, these problems existed long before the latest arrivals crossed our borders. The foreigner has become a convenient target for anxieties whose origins lie much deeper.
South Africa’s xenophobia cannot be understood without understanding our history.
The first driver is material despair. Millions of South Africans live with unemployment, insecurity, and diminishing hope. Youth unemployment remains catastrophic. For many young people, the promise of democracy has not translated into meaningful economic opportunity. This is not simply an economic crisis. It is a crisis of dignity. When people feel excluded from the future, anger accumulates. That anger seeks an object.
The second driver is state failure. Broken Home Affairs systems, porous borders, corruption, weak policing, collapsing municipal services and growing poverty create a perception that nobody is in control. Communities experience daily insecurity while those responsible often appear absent or unaccountable. Migrants then become the visible face of failures that originate elsewhere.
The third driver is political opportunism. Throughout history, politicians and movements have converted social pain into political capital. Fear is mobilised. Frustration is redirected. Instead of addressing the structural causes of unemployment, inequality and exclusion, vulnerable groups become scapegoats. Xenophobia is not only an expression of anger. It is often politically harvested.
But there is a deeper layer that is rarely discussed.
Apartheid was not only a system of racial discrimination. At its core, it was a cheap labour system. Land was taken, movement restricted, enterprise suppressed, and education deliberately narrowed. Hendrik Verwoerd, the chief architect of apartheid, made the intention explicit when he declared:
“There is no place for the Bantu in the European community above the level of certain forms of labour.”
He also asked:
“What is the use of teaching the Bantu child mathematics when it cannot use it in practice?”
These were not isolated remarks. They were a blueprint. The objective was not to educate Africans to become entrepreneurs, owners, innovators or competitors. The objective was to produce labour. Generations were conditioned to seek employment rather than create enterprises, to depend on wages rather than build wealth, and to serve an economy from which they were largely excluded.
Thirty-two years into democracy, another uncomfortable truth remains. While political power changed hands in 1994, economic power has proved far more resistant to transformation. Large sectors of our economy remain concentrated in patterns established under apartheid. Wealth, ownership, access to capital and market power are still heavily shaped by historical privilege.
For millions of South Africans, political freedom has not yet translated into economic freedom.
This is where the xenophobia debate becomes especially tragic.
Many migrants arrive with little more than courage, determination and hope. They open shops, restaurants, repair businesses, transport services and small enterprises. They work long hours, pool resources, support one another and create livelihoods where none previously existed.
History teaches us that great cities and great nations are often built by people willing to take risks in pursuit of a better life. New York, London, Toronto, Nairobi, Johannesburg and countless others were shaped by migrants and entrepreneurs. They did not simply create wealth for themselves. They created jobs, services, supply chains and opportunities for others.