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Good morning. I’ve just returned from Nigeria where I got to witness first-hand development programmes being run by colleagues there. Nigeria – the land of my birth – is a cultural melting pot of different traditions and religions, where hundreds of languages are spoken. In some areas people from different tribes and tongues live peacefully among each other, but of course the ugly face of division has led to deadly conflict in other areas. While I was there, I heard several conversations about a run of xenophobic attacks on Nigerians living in South Africa. So far, around 200 of them have had to flee the country they thought was home in the wake of the violence, which started in Johannesburg and Pretoria and has seen at least 10 people killed. The mobs have been targeting foreign-owned businesses, accompanied by chants for them to go back home. The Nigerian government is set to repatriate hundreds more of its citizens, helping them to return home to escape the attacks. It’s heartbreaking to think that people are violently turning on the Nigerian neighbours they’ve lived alongside for many years. It begs the question why. For years, I’ve been haunted by the Lars Von Trier film Dogville in which Nicole Kidman plays Grace – a stranger who seeks refuge in a small-town American community. She is taken in by them before they turn against her. Before the backlash, Grace says about her place of refuge: “All I see is a beautiful little town in the midst of magnificent mountains. A place where people have hopes and dreams even under the hardest conditions.” Sometimes I try to put myself in the shoes of those who are so scared of the other that it drives them to violence. While I’ll never understand it, I’m convinced it’s driven by an underlying fear – a perceived existential threat. Perhaps when people feel their hopes and dreams are at risk or that it is the stranger’s presence which causes their supposed oppression, they lash out. In recent years we’ve seen examples around the world of the ugly face of extreme nationalism; when protecting some imaginary or literal borders results in violence towards those deemed to be outsiders. The Bible is full of exhortations to welcome the stranger and not fear them. Ultimately, the Christian story is about the breaking down of barriers. Christ came to break down the dividing wall of hostility, the book of Ephesians says. I’m so thankful for meeting colleagues last week who have devoted their lives to helping ‘the other’ – the millions of women and children for example displaced by armed conflict in Nigeria - their plight caused by the hatred of the other. I believe that to selflessly help those considered not like us showcases the best of humanity – breaking down barriers, not building walls.