Ammaarah Seboa. Image: UWCWhile Cape Town boasts a rich culinary landscape shaped by globalisation, Muslims in the city still face challenges in accessing food that aligns with their faith. A recent master’s thesis by University of the Western Cape researcher Ammaarah Seboa sheds light on how halaal food is branded, positioned and perceived in the Mother City – and why semiotics, from certificates to logos, are central to Muslim food choices.
Seboa’s study, Globalisation and Food Positioning Semiotics: Halaal Food Access and Perceptions among Muslims in Cape Town, explores the intersection of religion, commerce and identity. The research finds that although South Africa is one of Africa’s largest producers of halaal goods – supplying 25% of the continent’s halaal products – not all foodscapes make it easy for Muslim consumers to identify or access halaal offerings.
The city’s supermarkets, restaurants and fast-food outlets have become increasingly globalised, with products from around the world competing for consumer attention. Yet, for Muslims who are religiously obligated to avoid haram (unlawful) items such as pork and alcohol, food access is not just about variety – it’s about trust.
Seboa points out that Cape Town’s Muslim community has a deep historical connection to halaal food, tracing back to the arrival of Islam in the 17th century via Southeast Asian slaves and political exiles. Today, Muslims make up only 2.5% of South Africa’s population, but halaal-certified goods dominate the shelves, with some estimates suggesting up to 90% of products in major food retailers carry a halaal mark.
The “halaal-friendly” branding of, especially food establishments, was also contentious according to Seboa’s research, with many restaurants explicitly stating that the meat products are halaal while still offering alcohol, an anathema for practicing Muslims.
Halal is an Arabic word meaning lawful or permitted. In reference to food, it is the dietary standard, as prescribed in the Qur’an (the Muslim scripture).
He has forbidden you carrion, blood, the flesh of swine, and what was offered to other than God. But whoever is compelled by necessity—neither driven by desire nor excess—he commits no sin. God is Forgiving and Merciful.” (Quran Chapter 2; Verse 173).
The opposite of halal is haram, which means unlawful or prohibited. Halal and haram are universal terms that apply to all facets of life. These terms are commonly used in relation to food products, meat products, cosmetics, personal care products, pharmaceuticals, food ingredients, and food contact materials.
While many things are clearly halal or haram, there are some things which are not clear. Further information is needed to categorize them as halal or haram. Such items are often referred to as mashbooh, which means doubtful or questionable.
“This refers mostly to these newer, trendy spaces which offer ‘fine dining’ experiences. As Muslims, trendy halaal restaurants have a menu of foods we eat at home like curries or butter chicken, or it's a fast-food/take-aways which offers hot chips, chip rolls, samosas, koeksisters, etc.
“So it seems like these trendy restaurants found a go around by using this ‘halaal-friendly’ term to attract Muslim customers so that they can also enjoy the fine dining experience they offer. Happy Uncles is one of the first fully-halaal fine dining establishments for Muslims in South Africa,” said Seboa.
Her study highlights that three semiotic tools dominate halaal branding: certificates, logos and signage. These are issued by various certification bodies, including the South African National Halaal Authority (SANHA), Muslim Judicial Council (MJC), and National Independent Halaal Trust (NIHT).
Placement matters, Seboa says. In some stores, certificates are prominently displayed at entrances or on counters, reassuring Muslim shoppers instantly. In others, branding is hidden, inconsistent, or absent altogether – leaving customers to rely on staff confirmation or visual cues, such as familiar greetings in Arabic, to determine a product’s status.
Interestingly, some products that don’t require certification – such as bottled water – still carry halaal logos. Seboa interprets this as a sign that halaal has also become a marketing tool, appealing not only to Muslim consumers but to non-Muslims who associate the label with cleanliness, quality and ethical production.
While large retail chains carry a wide range of halaal goods, Seboa found that smaller, Muslim-owned food businesses play a vital role in ensuring variety and accessibility. These local outlets, often in working-class and historically Muslim neighbourhoods, provide spaces where all food is guaranteed halaal, eliminating the need for shoppers to scan labels or question staff.
Such spaces also serve as cultural and social hubs, reinforcing Muslim identity and community cohesion. “These establishments can be seen as the minority reclaiming their power over corporate foodscapes,” Seboa notes.
In cases where branding is absent, Muslim consumers draw on personal knowledge of products, producers and preparation methods – or simply avoid uncertain items altogether. This avoidance behaviour underscores the importance of clear, visible certification.
Some respondents in Seboa’s study even cited interpersonal interactions as cues: being greeted with “shukran” (thank you) or “afwan” (you’re welcome) by staff reinforced perceptions of trustworthiness in a food outlet.
For many Muslims, the halaal logo has become more than a dietary guide – it is an emblem of faith and identity. Seboa’s interviews reveal that the decision to buy halaal is not only about adherence to Islamic law but also about expressing belonging to the global Muslim community.
At the same time, the research notes a shift in the “ideological meaning” of halaal. While rooted in religious tradition, the concept has been reshaped by market forces, branding practices, and consumer culture. This “re-semiotisation” means that halaal now operates as both a moral code and a commercial brand.
Seboa warns that lapses in clear halaal labelling could amount to “food endangerment” for Muslim consumers, potentially undermining food security for the community. She recommends that certification bodies and retailers prioritise consistent, visible branding and maintain strong relationships with Muslim customers.
The study also calls for more research into how halaal branding influences not just purchasing decisions but broader cultural identity in South Africa’s diverse society.
As Cape Town’s foodscapes continue to globalise, Seboa’s work underscores a simple truth: for Muslims, trust in what’s on the plate begins with knowing its story – and that story is often told in the smallest of signs.
