FROM ALLY TO OUTSIDER: HOW NGIZWE MCHUNU FELL OUT WITH MARCH AND MARCH
The suspension of a high-profile activist exposes deep strategic rifts in South Africa’s anti-illegal-immigration movement and raises questions about its capacity to mature into a lasting political force.
By Gabriel Manyati
When March and March’s National Executive Committee met on 25 July 2026, few outside the organisation expected the outcome. Days later, the movement announced it was suspending its working relationship with Ngizwe Mchunu, the former Ukhozi FM broadcaster whose presence had helped turn local grievances over undocumented migration into a national spectacle.
The decision, formalised in a statement released on 27 July, marked an abrupt end to a partnership that had given the group its most visible public face.
Mchunu had marched alongside founder Jacinta Ngobese-Zuma and activist Nkosikhona Ndabandaba, known as Phakel’umthakathi, through the months leading to the large 30 June demonstrations. He commanded crowds, shaped messaging and lent the campaign a media-savvy edge. Now the same structures that once welcomed his profile have cut him loose pending further internal investigation.
The rupture is more than a personality clash. It lays bare competing visions for how far street mobilisation should go, who speaks for the movement, and whether continuous protest remains the right strategy once the government has begun to engage.
What March and March Says
National spokesperson Sandile Dube explained that the NEC had considered a report from the movement’s governance and legal compliance structures. The probe examined alleged attempts by political role players and business cartels to destabilise the organisation and demobilise supporters.
“The movement has come to the conclusion that these actions are orchestrated by lazy thinkers, criminals and beneficiaries of colonialism who do not see anything wrong with our youth languishing in drugs, unemployment and the dilution of our identity while they live large at the expense of our indigenous people,” Dube said.
The report, according to the organisation, also recorded findings related to “an offer and acceptance of gratification in exchange for the soul of the Movement and our people.” Dube stated: “This is a war we are prepared to fight relentlessly. We want a united South Africa, and we want to work with people we can trust.”
The formal resolution followed: “Having considered the facts before us, juxtaposed with the founding principles and values espoused in our mission statement, and having attempted to engage with all our stakeholders, the movement has accordingly resolved that, pending further investigations, it will not be working with Mr Ngizwe Mchunu.”
Dube later clarified that Mchunu was never an official member and held no authority to call marches off. The movement continues under Ngobese-Zuma’s leadership and has scheduled further action, including a demonstration in Polokwane.
The gratification allegation remains an internal claim. No public evidence has been produced, no law-enforcement investigation has been announced, and no charges have been laid. Mchunu has not been shown to have responded directly to the specific allegation in published remarks
Mchunu Hits Back
In a video released on 27 July, Mchunu did not dwell on the suspension. Instead, he framed the campaign as already successful. “My people, it became dark on the evening of Monday, 27 July. We have just returned from Richards Bay, where we were fighting against the abuse of workers by Transnet,” he said. “I speak with great joy after more than 1000 marches across South Africa before the 30 June deadline for illegal migrants to leave. We are very happy because our actions have started to yield results.”
The central line was unambiguous: “As much as we did not accomplish everything we set out to do, we cannot march forever. That is the truth, because we have no intention of collapsing the economy.” He spoke “as someone who has been arrested,” drawing a contrast with others. Of Ngobese-Zuma and Ndabandaba he said: “My fellow leaders, Phakela and MaNgobese, are junior to me. They are excited by everything, including the limelight and relevance. I am no longer excited. I have become a visionary. I know what to do and when to do it.”
He later described them as excited by “the limelight and relevance” while he focused on “rehabilitating our country.” He called supporters to a feedback session in Gauteng to hear official responses to the June protests, insisting: “We march for change; we are not marching just to sweat.” Mchunu has vowed to continue anti-illegal-immigration activism independently.
The Ramaphosa Meeting
The fault line opened weeks earlier. On 29 June 2026, hours before the nationwide demonstrations, President Cyril Ramaphosa met Mchunu and Ndabandaba. The Presidency confirmed the engagement. Ramaphosa emphasised that the right to protest carried a responsibility to observe the law and remain peaceful. He stressed that government alone is responsible for enforcing migration laws and is addressing the issue.
Ngobese-Zuma was not present. She said she learned of the meeting through social media and had repeatedly requested an audience with the President without success. “We’ve sent several requests to meet with him, but he has not responded to any of them,” she told journalists after the 30 June marches. She later suggested the exclusion might relate to her surname.
The meeting generated immediate suspicion inside March and March. Some supporters speculated about deals or demobilisation. The organisation later cleared the air with Ndabandaba and continued working with him, while the relationship with Mchunu deteriorated.
What was discussed beyond the Presidency’s public summary remains private. No independent account has confirmed any offer of gratification linked to that encounter. The episode nevertheless crystallised a deeper disagreement over engagement with the state.
Personal and Political Fault Lines
At one level the dispute is personal. Mchunu positions himself as the experienced senior who has paid a price through arrest and public scrutiny. He portrays the current leadership as junior figures still chasing relevance. Ngobese-Zuma and her colleagues insist on collective discipline, trust and organisational control. Dube has stressed that the movement marches until its demands are met, not according to any individual’s timetable.
Beneath the personalities lie strategic differences. One approach privileges continuous street pressure and distrust of institutional politics. The other, voiced by Mchunu, argues that prolonged disruption risks economic damage and that gains already secured should be consolidated through dialogue and feedback mechanisms. Street mobilisation versus selective political engagement, permanent protest versus measured de-escalation, individual profile versus collective structure: these tensions now sit at the centre of the movement.
March and March began in March 2025 as a grassroots response, led by Ngobese-Zuma, a former radio presenter, to community frustrations over employment, public services and border enforcement. It grew rapidly through social media and marches, attracting associated figures such as Mchunu and his Amabhinca Nation. Its strength has been visibility and the ability to force the immigration debate onto the national agenda. Its vulnerability is the absence of deep institutional roots and the reliance on charismatic individuals.
Without Mchunu
Mchunu brought communication skill, crowd-drawing power and a willingness to operate at the edge of controversy. Removing him reduces the movement’s media reach in the short term. Yet March and March retains Ngobese-Zuma as its founder and public leader, a national executive, provincial structures and a programme of ongoing Thursday demonstrations. Dube has insisted the organisation will continue regardless. Whether that organisational depth is sufficient to sustain momentum without its most recognisable male face remains an open question.
The Wider Immigration Terrain
The rupture occurs against a backdrop of genuine public anxiety over undocumented migration, competition for jobs and strained services, alongside documented patterns of violence and discrimination against foreign nationals. Civil society organisations and analysts have long warned that anti-illegal-immigration campaigns can slide into xenophobia. March and March rejects the label, insisting it targets illegality rather than nationality.
Government has responded with increased enforcement messaging, police deployments and direct engagement with some activists while maintaining that immigration control is a state function alone.
What Happens Next
Several paths are possible. Reconciliation cannot be ruled out if the internal investigation produces limited findings and both sides recalibrate. A permanent split appears more likely in the immediate term. Mchunu has already signalled independent activity and a feedback process outside March and March structures. The movement itself may consolidate under Ngobese-Zuma, continuing marches while attempting to demonstrate internal discipline.
Further fragmentation of the broader anti-illegal-immigration space is also conceivable if rival personalities or groupings fill the vacuum.
This episode is more than a quarrel between strong personalities. It is an early stress test of whether South Africa’s newest protest formations can translate street energy into durable organisation. Movements that rise quickly on shared anger often fracture when the question shifts from mobilisation to strategy, accountability and power.
How March and March navigates the departure of one of its most prominent associated figures will indicate whether it can evolve beyond continuous demonstration into a coherent political actor, or whether the cycle of protest, suspicion and personal rupture will define the next phase of the country’s contentious immigration politics.