JOHANNESBURG — In the bustling immigrant neighborhood of Yeoville, a self-taught South African chef known as Sanza is using food to bridge cultural divides amid rising xenophobic tensions in the country. Over the past decade, Sanza has curated a unique culinary experience that embraces diverse immigrant cuisines from across Africa and beyond, aiming to counter growing hostility toward foreigners in South Africa.

Sanza, whose real name is Sandile Tshabalala, gained early attention following an appearance on a global travel and food television program. Building on that exposure, he launched the Yeoville Dinner Club, where he serves communal dinners featuring dishes inspired by immigrants who have settled in Johannesburg. The dinners take place around a long table that brings together diners from varied backgrounds, highlighting Sanza’s pursuit of "smuggling" flavors and traditions across borders through food.

South Africa has seen increased violence and protests targeting African immigrants, with many locals blaming foreigners for crime, economic competition, and strained resources. Against this backdrop, Sanza’s inclusive culinary approach has taken on deeper significance. He believes sharing the stories and flavors of different cultures can help challenge prejudice and foster empathy.

Born in Eswatini to a South African mother who had escaped apartheid-era oppression, Sanza was raised partly by a family member active in anti-apartheid movements. His upbringing infused him with ideals of Pan-Africanism and internationalism. After apartheid ended in the 1990s, he moved to Yeoville, once a whites-only suburb that has evolved into a vibrant hub for migrants from across Africa and South Asia. There, Sanza developed an appreciation for a range of cultures, languages, and cuisines that inform his cooking today.

Over the years, Sanza has forged close connections with immigrant cooks around Johannesburg, frequenting modest eateries that have resisted significant economic downturns caused by recent violence and widespread fear. At these venues, he often exchanges culinary ideas and ingredients, incorporating flavors from Congolese, Pakistani, Ghanaian, Ethiopian, and other traditions into his repertoire.

For example, Sanza draws inspiration from Congolese restaurateur Lydia Kenter-Tata, adapting her peanut and cassava leaf stews into his own goat dishes. His menus feature inventive combinations such as Pakistani beef nihari served with local South African fried dough balls known as amagwinya, a vegetarian gumbo influenced by West African, Ethiopian, and Italian stews, and a one-pot rice dish reflecting global variations of fir fir.

The dinner club operates from a modest space in Yeoville, where guests arrive discreetly, mindful of safety concerns in the area, and are immersed in an atmosphere resonant with diverse languages, music, and scents. Sanza’s storytelling — often as rich and varied as the food he presents — helps contextualize the dishes as expressions of shared heritage rather than national boundaries.

While the challenges facing migrants in South Africa remain daunting, Sanza’s vision positions food as a potential catalyst for understanding, inviting diners to engage with the histories, struggles, and creativity of their neighbors. “This is not my food,” he explained at a recent gathering, “this is food to invoke memory. This is food of all our grandmothers.”