They call our beautiful city of Durban a melting pot of cultures, famed for our open friendliness, wide smiles and genuine kindness.
But Durban is no longer that poster child.
As recent scenes of violence on the streets of Durban, masked as anti-immigrant protests, were streamed around the world, businesses and residents across the city were, once again, left reeling.
The impact was immediate.
International delegates attending a conference in Durban over the weekend cut short their stay, citing safety fears. And despite the best efforts of government and tourism stakeholders to allay those fears, scenes of homes and businesses being destroyed by frenzied crowds sealed the fate of those delegates.
"I'm leaving. I came to explore an investment opportunity but after watching the news about the protests in Durban and how shops were destroyed, I'm not feeling confident. I don't feel safe," a delegate told me.
Cry, our beloved city. And crying we are, for our beautiful city.
With the festive season approaching, Durban is, once again, scrambling to rescue its image.
In a province proudly known as the warm Zulu Kingdom, with so much to offer, the city of Durban is now on edge. And seeing the army deployed on our streets is, ironically, not a sight that brings comfort to tourists, despite its perceived necessity.
Durban is fast becoming known as an unfriendly city, one that is increasingly seen as unwelcoming to visitors.
The city has long struggled to compete with Cape Town for its share of the tourism market, particularly when it comes to perceptions of safety.
The recent scenes of violence have, once again, tipped those scales in Cape Town's favour, leaving Durban on the back foot.
As a patriotic South African, I, like many others, want to see the growth of our economy benefit South Africans. I want youth unemployment addressed. I want illegal immigration curbed.
But South Africa is not alone in facing these challenges.
Across Europe, immigration has become one of the most contentious political issues, with concerns over jobs, housing and pressure on healthcare systems forming a common thread.
The anger and anxiety of citizens over rising immigration have fuelled a political shift towards the right, even in cities where liberal politics once thrived.
Like South Africa, these sentiments are driven by concerns over immigration, compounded by mounting economic pressures.
But there is a fundamental difference.
In functioning democracies, citizens have the ballot box through which to express their anger and demand change. While Europe has also experienced anti-immigrant violence, the democratic answer must be political accountability, not mob justice.
No burning of homes. No looting of shops. No frenzied mobs deciding who belongs and who doesn't.
And that is precisely why the brutality of our violent anti-immigrant protests is so shocking.
It defies logic.
For Durban, the epicentre of these violent protests, the deployment of the army brings little comfort.
The damage is already done.
The cost of repairing the city's tourism and investment reputation will be felt across industries, with consequences extending far beyond the immediate destruction.
And it's not simply about investors.It's about the ordinary person trying to eke out a living.
It's not about those with a safety net, cushioned from economic tsunamis, with millions in the bank and the means to survive a bumpy ride.
It's about those who have nothing to fall back on.In real, simplified terms, a jittery tourism climate, where visitors feel unsafe, means less money flowing into the city's economy.
Fewer hotel bookings. Less shopping. Less dining. Less spending.
And ultimately, fewer jobs, struggling businesses and, in some cases, closures.
And who pays the price?
Not the wealthy, who have the means to ride out the storm.
It's those who don't.
It's the thousands of young workers who leave their poverty-stricken rural communities across KwaZulu-Natal, from districts such as uMkhanyakude, Zululand and uMzinyathi, in search of employment in Durban.
Young men and women who work in our hotels, restaurants, shops and businesses, sending money home each month to support families who depend on them.
For many, that monthly income is the difference between a family having food on the table or going hungry.
When tourism suffers, when businesses close and jobs disappear, it is these workers and their families who ultimately pay the price.
South Africans pay the price.
And that's the cruel irony the violent self-appointed protectors of South Africans don't seem to understand. Or perhaps simply don't care about.
In their misguided mission to protect South African livelihoods, they are destroying the very economic opportunities on which South Africans depend.
But we are a resilient nation. And the people of this warm Zulu Kingdom, perhaps even more so.
We're built differently.
We rose from the challenges of Covid-19, from the devastation of the July riots and the destruction they inflicted on our economy.
We rose from the ashes of burnt businesses across our city.
We survived what many thought would break us.
And with broken hearts, we will rise again.
The world will see, once again, that Durban is still a welcoming city. That our warmth, our kindness and our humanity have not disappeared.
That this city is not defined by those who spread hatred.
There are far more people who love and embrace our shared humanity than those who seek to destroy it.
Those who want to build bridges outnumber those hell-bent on tearing them down.
Durban will rise again.
Don't cry, our beloved city.
* Zohra Teke is a freelance contributor and Durban business owner.
** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL.