
The messages keep coming.
“How can you support South Africa after what they do to our people?”
“They kill our brothers and sisters, and you cheer for their team?”
“Are you not ashamed?”
I understand the anger. I respect it. I share it.
Yes, South Africa has a painful history of xenophobic attacks on fellow Africans. That reality cannot be ignored. It should not be excused. It must be condemned — loudly, clearly, and without hesitation.
I have done so. I will continue to do so.
But here is why, when the whistle blows and Bafana Bafana takes the pitch, I still stand with them.
Football Is Not the Government
When I support South Africa in sport, I am not endorsing its immigration policies. I am not defending its political leadership. I am not excusing the violence that has stained its streets.
I am supporting the players.
Young men who grew up in the same townships where poverty and struggle are daily realities. Players who carry the weight of a nation on their shoulders, knowing that for ninety minutes, they can unite a fractured people in a way that politicians never could.
They are not responsible for the sins of the state. They are responsible for the badge on their chest. And when they wear it with pride, they remind us of what South Africa could be — not what it too often is.
If We Apply That Logic Everywhere…
If we withheld our support from every country with a troubled past, we would have no teams left to cheer.
We would stop supporting England because of colonialism. We would stop supporting France because of its treatment of immigrants. We would stop supporting the United States because of its foreign policy. We would stop supporting Belgium because of Congo. We would stop supporting Argentina for its long-lived white supremacy. We would stop supporting Portugal because of its colonial legacy. That’s just a few to name.
But we don’t.
Because we understand that sport exists beyond politics. That the players on the pitch are not the politicians in office. That a nation is not a monolith — and that the actions of a few do not erase the humanity of the many.
Two Truths Can Coexist
I support Bafana Bafana. And I condemn xenophobia wherever I see it.
Both are true. Both must be true.
Because loving Africa means loving all of it — even the parts that still hurt. Even the parts that betray our shared humanity. Even the parts that make us angry.
We can celebrate the talent, the passion, and the resilience of South African football, while also demanding accountability for the violence and prejudice that have no place in a truly united Africa.
That is not contradiction. That is nuance. That is maturity. That is what it means to be African in a world that asks us to choose sides — when what we really need is to choose understanding.
A Final Thought
When Bafana scores, I celebrate. When an African brother or sister is attacked in Johannesburg, I mourn. When the team wins, I feel pride. When the nation fails its own, I feel shame.
That is not hypocrisy. That is humanity.
Because the Africa I believe in is not a perfect continent. It is a continent of contradictions, of pain, of hope — and of people who refuse to give up on one another.
So yes, I stand with Bafana. And yes, I stand against xenophobia.
And I will never apologise for either.