The worsening relationship between Nigeria and South Africa is beginning to affect something that has historically brought the two countries closer: entertainment.
South African pop star Tyla has removed Lagos from her A*POP World Tour itinerary after days of intense backlash from Nigerians over renewed xenophobic attacks against Nigerians and other African migrants in South Africa. Her Lagos concert had been scheduled for December 22, but the date disappeared from the tour schedule following calls for a boycott.
The reaction was not simply about a concert. For many Nigerians, allowing a major South African artist to perform in Lagos while Nigerians were being attacked in South Africa felt like business as usual during a crisis.
Social media campaigns called for Nigerians to boycott the show, with some extending the anger to South African companies and other artists. Others argued that Tyla should not personally be punished for actions committed by individuals or governments.
That disagreement matters because it reveals how deep the anger has become. This is no longer a dispute that can be contained within diplomatic statements between Abuja and Pretoria. It is beginning to influence where people travel, which businesses they support, which artists they welcome and how ordinary Nigerians and South Africans perceive each other.
Nigeria has already taken the issue beyond social media. The Federal Government says it evacuated 1,490 Nigerians from South Africa following the attacks and has called for stronger regional condemnation of what President Bola Tinubu described as “Afro-phobic attacks”.
Human Rights Watch has also documented recent xenophobic attacks against African and Asian foreign nationals in South Africa, criticizing what it described as insufficient protection and accountability from authorities. South Africa, meanwhile, says it has condemned incidents of intimidation and directed law enforcement agencies to protect citizens, residents and visitors.
But the Tyla situation introduces a dangerous new dimension. Artists can become proxy targets for political anger. Tyla did not create South Africa’s immigration policies, organize attacks on Nigerians or represent the South African government. Yet her nationality has become enough for some Nigerians to demand that she be excluded from the country.
And the backlash does not necessarily stop at Nigeria. Online discussions around Tyla have increasingly turned her into a symbol of the wider Nigeria-South Africa cultural rivalry, meaning her movements and performances can attract hostility far beyond the original dispute.
That should concern both countries.
Nigeria and South Africa have some of the continent’s biggest entertainment industries, and their artists, audiences and businesses have benefited enormously from cross-border cultural exchange. If political tensions continue to spill into music, sport and entertainment, that relationship could become increasingly transactional and hostile.
The bigger issue is whether African countries can condemn xenophobia without turning ordinary people into representatives of governments, and whether Nigeria and South Africa can prevent a political crisis from becoming a cultural war.
Because once artists start being punished simply for where they come from, the damage has already moved far beyond the streets where the violence began.
