Three Nigerians share their stories of lucky escape and survival at the hands of xenophobic South Africans with Sunday Oguntola and Taiwo Alimi.
Emeka Eze considers himself the luckiest man on earth. Only luck anchored on sheer divine providence prevented him from being burnt alive in KwaZulu-Natal, a town in South Africa where he has lived for over six years during the last xenophobic attacks in that country.
When the attacks started, the 34-year-old shop owner, felt insulated. “I was very popular and much loved in the town. I was more or less a citizen, having assimilated and even lived like one,” he stated.
All the indigenes, as well as foreigners, loved him; and his grocery shop, up until that moment was well patronised in the community. Eze’s fiancée is also from the densely populated town. He thus felt sure that such ‘insurance’ should shield him from any attack.
“When the attacks began, I was not moved. I felt I was untouchable. My fiancée even joked that no one will ever think of me as a foreigner. I had become so involved and accommodated among everyone,” he reiterated.
But all those layers of ‘insurance’ dissolved in less than six hours of “hellish nightmare” a few days later. Eze was closing his shop around 10pm on this fateful day, when he saw some local guys moving towards his direction.
“I knew them so well and joked that I wouldn’t even reopen for them since I had closed for the day. Suddenly, one of them moved closer and landed an unexpected slap on my face. I was taken aback. Before I could recover, they made for the shop, ripped it open and looted everything in stock.
“I was so surprised and I couldn’t say anything. It was like a dreamland to me. They made me stand by and witness all the looting. When they were done, one of them asked me to undress. He said he wanted to see that ‘thing’ I was using to deceive my fiancée and other ladies.
“When I objected, I felt a cut through my head. Within seconds, I was drenched in blood. I lost my vision and became weaker and weaker. I started begging them to please spare my life. But they laughed and laughed. One of them said I was befriending a lady he had always eyed.
“I was dazed because this was someone who was always laughing and playing with me. Before I knew it, they had cut through my left leg again. I couldn’t walk again. I gave up hope for death. Then, I heard one of them saying I was making the money they should be making. This was someone I had borrowed money in the past,” he recounted.
It was when he gave up hope that help came. His fiancée, who heard about the attack, quickly called on local police to salvage the situation. Anashe had to devise a way to call the police because she had been placed under surveillance by local gangs. They had anticipated she could muster help for her Nigerian boyfriend.
Just when Eze was about breathing his last, police officers arrived the scene. “By then, I was almost gone from the severe beating. They used all manner of weapons on me. I only remember being carried into a vehicle. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a hospital. I had been in coma for two days, I later realised.”
Eze, who was already well-established in the country, headed straight for the airport, from where he came back home. According to him, South Africa is a better forgotten era of his life.
“All I worked for in six years gone with the winds just like that. I was building a house in the community to settle down. All of that and my other investments gone down the drain?” He lamented.
Philip Agade’s encounter with the merchants of death was even scarier. At the restaurant where he worked as an attendant, he was way ahead of his peers. By all local standards, he was one of the big boys in Alexandra. His accommodation was always full of friends from Mozambique, Angola and South Africa. He was a star among all of them, having lived in the town for over a decade. Incidentally, it was one of his South African friends that set him up for what turned out to be a trip to the valley of death.
“I had closed for work and was heading home when he (Bezile) called me to come over to a section of the town for a drink. I was tired but since we were familiar friends, I accepted to go. I was almost at the place, when I ran into a group of young men.
“They beckoned on me but I moved on. However, when I saw my friend amongst them, I changed my mind and headed their way. On getting to where they were, they suddenly seized me and took me to a fast-approaching car. I was shocked and surprised. My friend kept quiet throughout. When I asked him what was wrong, he maintained his silence.
“They took me to a dark spot where I was told to kneel down and say my last prayer. I started begging for my life but they wouldn’t bulge. They kept beating me with weapons. I begged and begged until there was no strength in me again. I passed out completely when the beating became unbearable,” he said.
Apparently mistaken for dead, Agade’s attackers left satisfied. He surprisingly came alive three days later and trekked for another two days before he came across help. “I cannot explain but I just found myself alive. I trekked and trekked until I got to a village where the locals helped me escape to Mozambique by road,” he recalled.
He left South Africa without as little as a shirt despite working for over ten years as a hospital and restaurant attendant. He said the wounds he sustained from the beating would take months to heal. But that is nothing compared to the knowledge that he was completely left to die.
Another returnee, who simply identified himself as Chuks, said he had more than a kiss with death in South Africa. Chuks said he was in a torture chamber somewhere close to Soweto with other African immigrants.
According to them: “I was working in Soweto when I was abducted and taken to a place where several immigrants were detained and tortured daily. I believe it is an underground. We were chained down and made to go through hell every day. Our only offence was working as foreigners in South Africa. They also said we were marrying their ladies more than they did.
“I was there for three days during which I went through all manners of torture. Feeding was only once and we were beaten black and blue. We were in chains and nobody could really escape. Some were from Zimbabwe, Angola, Mozambique, Congo and other places.
“They were just beating us. They said they will watch us die in agony. They beat and beat us until they become tired, only to resume the following day. When the suffering became unbearable, I started speaking privately to one of our torturers to please save me.
“He agreed after I was able to smuggle a few rand I had kept with me to him. He led me through a dark path in the night and I had to work another full day before I could get help. It is the most heartless thing I had ever seen.
“I can’t understand how you can just turn against your fellow blacks out of envy and frustration. I will never return to that country again no matter what happens. I am done with them.”
‘We locked ourselves indoors for three days’
Kelvin (Not real name) relocated to the Rainbow country, South Africa in 2014 to seek greener pasture. In Nigeria, he was a journalist of high repute having worked with foremost newspapers: Champion and This Day, before delving into the banking industry with the now rested Intercontinental Bank Plc.
His relocation was made easy because his wife, who holds dual citizenship status of Nigeria and South Africa had gone ahead with the children. On arriving South Africa, he and his wife settled in Johannesburg, the famous South Africa commercial city.
Kelvin, who is pursuing PHD programme at a public University in Eastern Cape, South Africa, said he was away on Campus, when news of the xenophobic attack filtered in through the media.
Violence targeting immigrant shops recently opened erupted in the port city of Durban, where two foreigners and three South Africans were killed. Prior to this explosion, tension had been building up, with South African indigene accusing African immigrants of taking their jobs and contributing to the rising spate of crime in the country. According to government figures, the unemployment rate in South Africa is 25%.
A sixth death occurred penultimate Wednesday, as the violence reached its peak. The body of a 58-year old male foreign national was found in Verulam town, after a mob had attacked him in his home. In an attempt to save his life, he fled his home but later died of injuries sustained near his home, South African police said.
“My family was in Johannesburg, which is close to the scenes of the attack. I had to return quickly to join them and for three days, we were in door for fear of our lives.”
Though, not directly affected by the public attack, Kelvin revealed that he had contact with some foreigners affected. “While we were holed up inside our apartment, we got calls from our friends in Durbar and Johannesburg, intimating us of happenings in the streets. One of our friends got his boss, a Zimbabwean, badly beaten up. It was God that saved him from being killed.”
He noted that after the third day, he had to take his family outside Johannesburg and only recently returned home.
“I had to relocate my family prematurely to the University premises. We stayed back there for a week and returned home when normalcy returned. The reaction of the South African government was however reassuring with the massive arrest of key trouble makers and today we are walking around doing our business like it used to be.”