By Citizen Dr. Bolaji O. Akinyemi
Apostle and Nation Builder
A recent social media post by a South African commentator reacting to the controversy surrounding Tyla and Trevor Noah caught my attention. Beyond the emotion of the exchange lies a deeper question: What kind of Africa are we building?
The writer argued that South Africans should not apologise for protecting their country while accusing other Africans of obsessing over South Africa instead of fixing their own nations. Whether one agrees with his conclusions or not, the conversation exposes a painful reality that neither Nigerians nor South Africans should ignore.
To deny the existence of xenophobia in South Africa is as unhelpful as denying the existence of mass killings of genocidal nature, painted as communal violence in the media in parts of Nigeria. Public evidence, testimonies, and documented incidents have made both impossible to dismiss. Denial delays healing. Truth creates the possibility of reconciliation.
This is not the season for escapism. It is the season to confront our realities honestly, address them courageously, and move forward together.
South Africa has a legitimate right to enforce its immigration laws. Every sovereign nation does. Illegal immigration should never be defended simply because those involved are fellow Africans.
However, we must also acknowledge another truth. During periods of anti-immigrant violence, many legally resident Africans have also suffered intimidation, assault, the destruction of property, and, in some cases, the loss of life. Criminals do not always distinguish between documented and undocumented migrants. That is why the rule of law must prevail over mob justice.
When citizens assume responsibilities reserved for the state, society becomes vulnerable to lawlessness. Whether it is kidnappers and bandits terrorising communities in Nigeria or violent groups targeting foreign nationals in South Africa, both represent the dangerous consequences of allowing non-state actors to impose their own version of justice. Governments have a responsibility to ensure that law enforcement remains lawful, accountable, and effective.
No nation truly exists in isolation. The old saying reminds us that no man is an island. I would extend that thought by saying that nations are islands only in a geographical sense. Economically, culturally, technologically, and strategically, they are deeply interconnected. Trade, investment, education, innovation, and migration now bind nations together in ways previous generations could scarcely imagine.
This is why Africa’s future cannot be built on suspicion. It must be built on cooperation.
That conviction will once again be tested in February 2027, not in Abuja, Lagos, Cape Town or Johannesburg, but in Igbesa, Ogun State, Nigeria.
At first glance, Igbesa may appear to be an ordinary town. It is anything but ordinary. It is one of Nigeria’s fastest-growing economic frontiers, strategically positioned on the Lagos–Badagry–Seme corridor, linking Nigeria with the Republic of Benin and the wider ECOWAS market. It stands at the crossroads of agriculture, manufacturing, commerce, education, technology, and regional trade.
Neighbouring one of West Africa’s largest industrial corridors, Igbesa benefits from the immense manufacturing ecosystem of the Agbara Industrial Estate, where multinational and indigenous companies continue to invest in production, innovation, logistics, and employment. Its fertile agricultural landscape sustains food production while connecting rural enterprise with industrial value chains. Nearby centres of higher learning and innovation are nurturing a new generation of African entrepreneurs, researchers, technologists, and business leaders.
In many respects, Igbesa represents the Africa we speak about but rarely see brought together in one place—an Africa where faith, enterprise, industry, agriculture, education, innovation, and commerce converge.
It is within this strategic environment that Camp Judah, the home of the annual Global Leadership Meeting convened by Plummet Mission, under the stewardship of Dr John AdejoroOluwa has become a gathering place for leaders from across Africa and beyond. Every February, relationships are forged, ideas are exchanged, prayers are offered, and partnerships are born. It is a quiet but significant demonstration that the Africa of our hopes is built not only in presidential palaces and conference centres, but also in communities where visionaries gather to shape the future.
In my book, Global Leadership Code: Donald J. Trump As A Case Study, I recount one of the prophetic illustrations shared by Pa S. G. Elton concerning Africa’s future. He inverted the map of Africa and pointed to Nigeria as though it were the trigger of a great instrument, while the southern tip of the continent pointed towards South Africa. As I reflected on that image, I saw Lagos as the trigger and Cape Town—the Cape of Good Hope—as the point through which Africa’s hope could be projected to the world.
Whether one receives this as prophecy or metaphor, the message is compelling. Nigeria and South Africa are not destined to compete for Africa’s future. They are destined to collaborate in shaping it.
For the past four years, every February, I have enjoyed the privilege of meeting remarkable South Africans alongside Ghanaians, Kenyans, Ugandans, and other Africans at the Global Leadership Meeting convened by Dr. John Adejoro-Oluwa at Camp Judah, Igbesa. Those gatherings have consistently reminded me that the Africa we seek is already taking shape—one relationship, one partnership, one prayer, and one shared vision at a time.
That is why I ask this simple but important question:
Will South Africans be in Igbesa in February 2027?
Will they once again journey to Nigeria—not merely to attend another conference, but to participate in building an Africa where ideas matter more than prejudice, where collaboration triumphs over suspicion, and where Kingdom values inspire continental transformation?
Will they stand alongside Nigerians, Ghanaians, Kenyans, Ugandans, and other Africans to pray together, think together, learn together, invest together, and build together?
Or will mistrust, political rhetoric, and mutual suspicion rob Africa of yet another opportunity to demonstrate that her greatest strength lies in her unity?
I sincerely hope they will come.
For if Lagos can ignite Africa’s energy, and Cape Town can project Africa’s hope, perhaps Igbesa can become one of the places where Africa quietly discovers its future.
The choice before us is not between Nigeria and South Africa.
It is between division and destiny.
I choose destiny.
