Rabbie Serumula, author, award-winning poet, journalist.
Image: File
South Africa may have lost to Mexico on the football field, but another scoreline emerged long before the referee blew the opening whistle.
Across social media and online discussions, many Africans openly declared their support for Mexico. Some did so enthusiastically. Others argued that South Africa deserved to lose.
It was a strange moment. Here was an African nation representing the continent on one of football's grandest stages, yet many fellow Africans found themselves cheering for the opposition. The easy response would be outrage. The honest response is reflection.
Why would Africans support Mexico over South Africa? The answer is uncomfortable because it has very little to do with football. For years, South Africa has wrestled with recurring waves of anti-foreigner sentiment. African migrants have been blamed for unemployment, crime, pressure on public services and economic hardship. Shops have been looted. Communities have been targeted. Politicians have discovered that frustration is easier to direct toward outsiders than toward the structural failures that produced the frustration in the first place.
Many South Africans reject xenophobia and have consistently spoken against attacks on fellow Africans. Yet nations are rarely judged by their best citizens. They are judged by the images that travel beyond their borders. And those images travel far.
A trader in Accra remembers the businesses destroyed. A family in Lagos remembers the footage of mobs marching through townships. A shopkeeper in Harare remembers relatives who returned home with nothing. Memory does not need a passport.
This is why Ghana's recent calls for compensation for citizens who lost businesses and investments in South Africa matter. The issue is not only financial. Compensation claims represent something deeper. They suggest that the consequences of xenophobic violence have moved beyond local incidents and entered diplomatic memory.
When another African government begins discussing the losses suffered by its citizens in South Africa, it becomes difficult to argue that the damage is temporary. Perhaps that is why the scenes surrounding the World Cup felt so revealing.
The support for Mexico was not really about Mexico. It was a referendum on South Africa's standing among fellow Africans.
For decades, South Africans have celebrated the country's role in Africa's liberation story. We have spoken proudly of solidarity, unity and Pan-African ideals. Yet solidarity is not a historical achievement that can be stored in a museum. It must be renewed through action.
Pan-Africanism is easy when it exists in speeches. Its true test comes when migrants seek safety, opportunity or dignity across borders.
The most troubling lesson from the World Cup is not that some Africans supported another team. Football loyalties are ultimately fleeting. The troubling lesson is that many no longer feel instinctively compelled to stand with South Africa. That is a far more significant defeat than any result recorded on a scoreboard.
A 2-0 loss can be corrected in the next tournament.Repairing trust across a continent may take generations.