For many Nigerians, “japa” is narrated as a departure, the visa approval, the airport photograph, the farewell messages and the promise of a better life. For those who leave, however, the real journey often begins after the plane has landed.
Professionals seeking career growth, graduates searching for opportunities and parents hoping to secure a different future for their children continue to make relocation one of the most important personal decisions of their lives.
But how many Nigerians leave each year?
There is no single, comprehensive public figure covering every Nigerian who relocates for work, study, family, business or other reasons. Destination countries measure different categories of migration. The United Nations’ 2024 migrant-stock estimate, for instance, counted about 2.1 million Nigerian migrants living abroad. That is a measure of people already living outside Nigeria, not the number who left in one particular year. The largest recorded populations were in the United States, the United Kingdom, Niger, Cameroon, Italy and Canada.
The figures from individual destinations still show the scale of the movement. The United Kingdom’s Office for National Statistics estimated that 120,000 Nigerian nationals moved to the UK on a long-term basis in the year ending June 2024, compared with 141,000 in the previous year. In Canada, Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada recorded 17,446 Nigerian permanent residents in 2023, a 38 per cent increase from 2019.
The desire to leave is also reflected in public opinion. A 2024 Afrobarometer survey cited by the Migration Policy Institute found that 56 per cent of Nigerians expressed interest in emigrating for economic reasons. That figure represents aspiration, not actual migration, but it helps explain why the japa conversation has become so powerful among young Nigerians and working families.
Speaking with P.M. NEWS, Nigerians who relocated to Canada described different sides of life after japa — career progress, new opportunities, loneliness, adjustment and the strain of starting again.
For some, the move has delivered the opportunities they hoped for. For others, it has been a difficult transition requiring patience, sacrifice and emotional endurance.
“I wish I travelled sooner” – Segun
For Segun, relocating to Canada was a decision that changed the direction of his life.
The former Nigerian banker moved to Canada in 2019 after securing permanent residency. Before leaving Nigeria, he had built a career in the banking sector and expected to continue along the same professional path abroad.
Shortly after arriving in Canada, he secured another banking job, giving him the opportunity to remain within the profession he had already built a career in.
Today, he is a Canadian citizen and describes his experience as largely positive.
Looking back, Segun said his only regret was not leaving earlier.
“I wish I had even travelled sooner,” he told P.M. NEWS.
For him, the opportunities available abroad, especially for people prepared to work hard and adapt, have made the transition worthwhile.
He also highlighted the mobility that comes with Canadian citizenship, including the ability to travel to several countries without the restrictions that many Nigerians experience with the Nigerian passport.
But the benefits have come with a personal cost.
Segun said loneliness has been his biggest challenge.
Away from familiar faces, relatives and the social environment in which he grew up, he said adjusting emotionally has not always been easy.
His experience captures a part of migration that is rarely visible in relocation announcements. A person may secure a job, obtain permanent residency and eventually become a citizen, yet still struggle with the quiet absence of home.
Despite that, Segun encouraged Nigerians considering relocation to take the opportunity seriously, provided they understood that success abroad would still demand discipline and sacrifice.
‘I have no regret, I feel like I am home’ — Dami
Dami’s journey is still at the beginning.
The University of Lagos graduate relocated to Canada in July, fulfilling a dream she had carried for years.
A trained nurse, Dami initially planned to move to the United Kingdom but later found an opportunity in Canada. She said relocation had always been part of her life plan, and when the opportunity finally came, she did not hesitate.
“I have desired this all my life, and this is the first opportunity I have gotten. I don’t think I will regret this,” she said.
Since arriving in Canada, Dami said her first few weeks had been promising.
Her plan is to return to school, improve herself professionally and build a career in the Canadian healthcare system, which she believes offers important opportunities for healthcare workers.
The demand for skilled professionals, better work structures and prospects for career advancement were among the reasons she chose Canada.
Unlike many Nigerians abroad who speak about loneliness and difficulty adjusting, Dami said she had not experienced those challenges yet because she was still settling into her new environment.
“I just moved in July. I think I am home,” she said.
For now, her attention is fixed on building a future in the country she has chosen.
‘Japa is not as easy as people make it look’ — Enitan
For Enitan, relocation was not driven by personal ambition alone. It was also an attempt to give her child a different future.
The 40-year-old healthcare worker, who is a single mother of one, said her son was the biggest motivation behind her decision to leave Nigeria.
Before relocating, Enitan had worked with MTN and later became a personal shopper.
She said that after completing her education in 2008, life had been marked by continuous struggle and uncertainty.
“Since then, life has not been fair. It has been from one thing to another,” she said.
Motherhood changed the way she viewed the future.
Enitan said she looked at the Nigerian system and decided that her child should have access to better opportunities.
“When I give birth, I don’t want my child to experience and live like this,” she said.
But life abroad has not matched the perfect picture often presented on social media.
Enitan described the experience as “bittersweet”. While she acknowledged the exposure, opportunities and improved systems available abroad, she said settling there had been demanding.
“To be honest, I don’t think it is as easy as people make it seem. It is tough, very tough,” she said.
She does not regret leaving Nigeria, but she misses home and hopes the country improves.
Her story reflects the dilemma faced by many Nigerians abroad. They may find better systems and greater opportunities overseas, but returning home can appear financially impossible after years of economic deterioration.
Enitan questioned how returnees would cope with Nigeria’s current cost of living.
“Even if you come back to Nigeria, they say a two-bedroom apartment on the Island is about N15 million to N20 million. Where do you want me to see such money?” she asked.
For her, life after japa is neither a complete success story nor a failure story.
It exists somewhere in between, where opportunities are real but so are the sacrifices.
The experiences of Segun, Dami and Enitan reflect the different realities of Nigerians who have left the country.
Some discover career growth, professional recognition and stronger public systems. Others face high living costs, loneliness, demanding jobs, credential barriers and the pressure of rebuilding their lives without the family networks they once depended on.
The word “japa”, borrowed from Yoruba and commonly understood as an urge to flee or escape, has become shorthand for this movement. But the word can make migration sound simpler than it is. Leaving is one decision; establishing a stable life abroad is a series of difficult decisions that continues for years.
The country loses some professionals it trained, particularly in areas such as healthcare, technology and education. At the same time, Nigerians abroad continue to support families, pay school fees, fund businesses, build houses and send money home.
The World Bank’s personal-remittance data, cited in recent migration analysis, estimated that Nigerians abroad sent about $21.3 billion to Nigeria in 2024, equivalent to roughly 8.4 per cent of the country’s gross domestic product.
That money shows that leaving Nigeria does not necessarily mean abandoning it. Many migrants remain connected to the country through family responsibilities, investments, cultural ties and the expectation that one day they may return.
But remittances do not erase the emotional cost of distance. A person can send money home every month and still miss birthdays, funerals, religious celebrations and ordinary family moments.
For those who leave, the bargain is often complicated. They exchange familiarity for opportunity, proximity for stability and certainty for the possibility of a better future.
The visa may open the door, but it does not guarantee what lies behind it.
After the airport photograph, the first job, the first rent payment and the first difficult winter, the real story of japa begins — in the daily work of building a life that can hold both the opportunity that pulled Nigerians away and the home that still calls them back.
