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A cacophony of engines and hooting drowns out marshals controlling traffic inside the busy long-distance bus rank in Newtown, Johannesburg.
The departure zone of the station is buzzing with the voices of Zimbabweans preparing to board buses bound for home, while a handful are there to drop off parcels for delivery.
But for many, this is neither a voluntary nor a planned trip. They are leaving South Africa not because they want to, but because they are not sure what will happen on June 30, the deadline set by the anti-illegal immigrant groups, that all illegal foreigners must leave the country.
They are leaving to fix their paperwork, with every intention of returning to the country they now call home.
For 29-year-old Kwabashe Mutupo, the road to South Africa was never easy.
In 2022, it took him three days by bus to reach the Beitbridge border. When the bus stopped, Mutupo and several other passengers who didn’t have proper documents to enter the country were told to get off and cross the border on foot, sneaking through the Malaladrift area to avoid the official border post.
Once safely across, they rejoined the bus and continued their journey, risking arrest and danger, but seeing no other option as they had no proper documents.

“I came to South Africa looking for a job,” Mutupo told the Sunday Times on Tuesday as he was waiting at the Newtown station for a bus back to Zimbabwe.
“When my brothers told me the economy was better here, I had no choice but to pack and leave, even though I didn’t have the right papers.”
Like many others, Mutupo found work as a zama zama in Germiston. Without a work permit, he knew stable employment was impossible. “My brothers introduced me to this job. It’s very risky. Our lives are in danger every day.”

Surviving as an undocumented migrant meant living in constant fear, he said.
For Mutupo, bribing the police became routine. “For four years, I’ve lived my life bribing policemen. If I got stopped, a R50 bribe usually worked. Even when I was arrested last year, I paid R2,000 to get out of prison. I always had money set aside for situations like that.”
But now, with a nationwide crackdown on undocumented foreign nationals and a looming June 30 deadline to leave the country, Mutupo is heading home.
Not to stay, but to get his paperwork in order and return legally.
“I am going back home to get all my papers so I can live better here. There is a lot of suffering back home; I can’t afford to stay there. South Africa is better for me.”

For bus coordinator John Madzura, having the right documents has made all the difference. He remembers the struggle to get a work permit, but says the hassle was worth it. “When I came here in 2008, I knew I had to get my documents right, or I would live an unstable life. Now, I have freedom.”
Madzura feels sympathy for those forced to leave. “It saddens me that my fellow brothers and sisters are being sent back home. They need to get their things right for a better life.”
On why he chose South Africa over other African countries, Madzura said: “I can’t leave a neighbouring country to jump 10 borders to get to another country. South Africa is close, so we’d rather bask here”

Sibusiso Mpofu, 26, shares a similar story. He works at a bus rank in Braamfontein for long-distance buses to other African countries. He dropped out of school after his parents could no longer pay fees.
When he came to South Africa, he brought only a passport, no work permit.
“You need money to get all your documents,” he says, recalling how home affairs officials allegedly asked him for R10,000 to process a work permit.
“Once you pay, you can get your permit in a day or two, but I didn’t have that kind of money.”
He currently rents a one-bedroom flat in Johannesburg’s inner city for R1,500 a month, which he shares with his brothers.
Despite the looming deadline, Mpofu is undeterred. He says he has no intention of permanently staying away from South Africa.
He said that if push comes to shove, he will leave the country and come back once the noise is gone.
“I can’t stay in my country; there is no business there. Most jobs are for well-educated people, not people like us who didn’t finish school,” he said.









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