The skills they honed in South Africa are in huge demand
When belonging is revoked, people carry their knowledge home. Thousands of Zimbabwean hospitality professionals, shaped by years in South Africa's finest establishments, are returning to a country that now needs them urgently — as new hotels rise in Harare and Victoria Falls and tourist arrivals climb past pre-pandemic levels. What xenophobia displaces, Zimbabwe is quietly absorbing, transforming a human wound into an economic inflection point. The movement of skilled people across borders is rarely neutral; it redistributes not just labor, but the invisible architecture of expertise.
- Xenophobic violence in South Africa is forcing thousands of Zimbabwean hospitality workers to abandon livelihoods built over decades, severing them from established careers and communities.
- Zimbabwe's tourism sector is surging at precisely the moment these skilled returnees arrive — new Hyatt hotels opening in Harare and Victoria Falls, and restaurants staffed almost entirely by South Africa-trained professionals.
- African tourist arrivals grew 16% last year while European and Middle Eastern numbers fell, signaling a structural shift in who is driving Zimbabwe's tourism recovery.
- Tourism receipts have already surpassed pre-Covid levels at 104%, with $194 million in sector investment suggesting the growth is being treated as durable, not incidental.
- South Africa's hospitality industry faces a slow-moving reckoning — losing not just workers but the institutional knowledge and service standards they carried, with regional retaliation against xenophobia expected to deepen the damage.
Tinashe Nyamudoka spent eighteen years in Cape Town becoming a sommelier of rare distinction. Three months ago, like thousands of other Zimbabweans, he left — and brought everything he had learned back home to Harare. He now consults for restaurants hiring staff, many of them names South Africans would recognize: Tiger's Milk, which opened in Harare last week with a team drawn almost entirely from South Africa. He also sells wine under his own label, Kumusha — Shona for "home." The word carries more weight than it used to.
Across Zimbabwe's hospitality sector, hotel owners and restaurant managers are actively recruiting people like him. The timing is striking: just as xenophobic violence has pushed workers out of South Africa, Zimbabwe's tourism industry is experiencing a surge it cannot yet fully staff. A new Hyatt is rising in Harare. Another is coming to Victoria Falls. For years, Zimbabwe lagged in hotel infrastructure. Now the beds are being built and the people to fill the roles are arriving.
Dave Cooper, a tourism consultant based in Victoria Falls for decades, describes watching this unfold with "an unfortunate sense of relief." Covid gutted the industry. When businesses reopened, they found the experienced workers had gone to South Africa and stayed. Now those same workers are returning, forced out by circumstances, arriving precisely when new properties need them most.
The numbers confirm the shift. Overall visitor arrivals rose ten percent last year. African tourists increased by sixteen percent, more than compensating for declines from Europe, Oceania, and the Middle East. Tourism receipts reached 104% of pre-Covid levels. Investment in the sector totaled $194 million, with private concessions across Matusadona, Hwange, and Mana Pools being developed to international standards. Cooper expects the regional backlash against South African xenophobia to accelerate these trends. "South Africa won't see the tourism effects immediately," he says, "but the backlash will happen and it will be significant."
Brett Tungay, national chair of South Africa's Federated Hospitality Association, frames the loss in terms of knowledge rather than nationality. When experienced workers leave and feel unwelcome, service standards erode, mentorship chains break, and the visitor experience quietly deteriorates. What Zimbabwe gains is not merely labor — it is the institutional memory those workers carry. That kind of expertise, once dispersed, is not easily recalled.
Tinashe Nyamudoka spent eighteen years in Cape Town, learning his craft in some of the city's finest hotels and restaurants. He became a sommelier, the kind of professional who understands wine lists the way a conductor understands an orchestra. Then, like thousands of other Zimbabweans working in South Africa, he decided to leave. Three months ago he returned to Harare, and he brought his skills with him.
He is not alone. Across Zimbabwe's hospitality sector—in Victoria Falls, in Harare, in the lodges and restaurants that have begun to multiply—hotel owners and restaurant managers are actively recruiting people like Nyamudoka. They want Zimbabweans who spent years working in South African establishments, who learned standards and service protocols in some of the region's most demanding kitchens and dining rooms. The timing is almost too convenient: just as xenophobic violence in South Africa has driven workers out, Zimbabwe's tourism industry is experiencing a surge in demand that it cannot yet meet.
Nyamudoka now consults for restaurants actively hiring. He mentions names that South Africans would recognize—La Parada, Mozambik, Doppio Zero, Cubana. Tiger's Milk opened in Harare last week, and most of its staff came from South Africa. He is also selling wine under his own label, Kumusha, which means "home" in Shona. But the real story is not his wine. It is the hotels being built. A new Hyatt is rising in Harare. Another is coming to Victoria Falls. For years, Zimbabwe lagged behind its neighbors in hotel infrastructure. Now, suddenly, the beds are being built and the people to staff them are arriving.
Dave Cooper, a tourism consultant based in Victoria Falls for decades, has watched this unfold with what he calls "an unfortunate sense of relief." The industry here was gutted by Covid. When businesses reopened, they discovered a skills shortage—the experienced workers had gone to South Africa and stayed there. Now those workers are coming back, forced out by circumstances, arriving at precisely the moment when new hotels need them. "The skills they honed in South Africa are in huge demand," Cooper says.
The numbers tell the story. Zimbabwe's Tourism Authority reported a ten percent increase in overall visitor numbers last year compared to 2024. More striking: African tourists increased by sixteen percent. European, Oceanian, and Middle Eastern visitors declined, but the African surge more than compensated. South African visitors now account for less than twenty-eight percent of the total. Among the African arrivals was a substantial contingent of Zimbabweans returning to see family and friends—people reconnecting with home.
Tourism receipts last year reached one hundred and four percent of pre-Covid levels, surpassing what the sector earned in 2019. Investment in tourism totaled one hundred and ninety-four million dollars. Private concessions in national parks—Matusadona, Zambezi, Mana Pools, Hwange—are being developed to international standards. Cooper predicts the growth from other African nations, particularly those in the Southern African Development Community, will accelerate as regional retaliation against South African xenophobia takes hold. "South Africa won't see the tourism effects immediately," he says, "but the backlash will happen and it will be significant."
Brett Tungay, national chair of the Federated Hospitality Association of South Africa, frames the issue differently. The problem is not nationality, he argues, but skills. When experienced workers leave because they no longer feel welcome, when the environment becomes uncertain, a country risks losing expertise that cannot be easily replaced. Service standards suffer. The transfer of knowledge to younger staff breaks down. The visitor experience deteriorates. What Zimbabwe gains, South Africa loses—not just workers, but the institutional knowledge they carry.
Citações Notáveis
The positive thing for those who migrated and have recently been forced home is that a lot of hotels have opened in the interim and the skills they honed in South Africa are in huge demand.— Dave Cooper, Victoria Falls tourism consultant
If experienced workers leave because they no longer feel welcome or if the environment becomes uncertain, there is a risk of losing skills that cannot be easily replaced. This can affect service standards, the transfer of skills to younger staff and ultimately the visitor experience.— Brett Tungay, national chair of the Federated Hospitality Association of South Africa
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does it matter that these are returning Zimbabweans specifically, rather than just any skilled workers?
Because they already know the standards. They've worked in Cape Town's top restaurants. They understand what a Michelin-minded kitchen looks like, what service excellence means. Zimbabwe doesn't have to train them from scratch—it just has to welcome them home.
Is this actually good for Zimbabwe, or is it just extracting value from South Africa's crisis?
It's both. Zimbabwe genuinely needs the labor and the expertise. But the reason those workers are available is because they were driven out by violence. That's not a silver lining—that's a tragedy with a side effect.
What happens to South Africa's tourism industry in the long term?
That's the real question. Right now it's invisible. But if regional countries start deliberately choosing Zimbabwe over South Africa as retaliation, and if the skilled workers don't come back, the damage compounds. You lose not just revenue but reputation.
Could South Africa have prevented this?
If xenophobia hadn't erupted, yes. The workers were there. They were contributing. The choice to drive them out—that was made by individuals and by a system that tolerated it.
What does Nyamudoka's story tell us about migration that we don't usually hear?
That skilled people don't just disappear. They go somewhere. And when they go, they take their knowledge with them. Zimbabwe is suddenly competitive not because it got better overnight, but because South Africa made itself hostile.