Why Some Nigerians Are Choosing to Build a Life in Nigeria Instead of Relocating

“Japa” has become a shorthand for escape, a word said half as a joke, half as a plan. Someone gets a visa appointment, and the group chat lights up. Someone else posts snow photos, and the comments follow. For many Nigerians, relocating still feels like the clearest route to safety, steady pay, and peace of mind.

But there’s a quieter story running alongside it. Some Nigerians are choosing to stay, not because they can’t leave, but because they’re trying to build a life that fits who they are and what they want. They’re weighing work, money, family, identity, and opportunity, then making a deliberate call.

This isn’t a moral contest. Relocating can be wise, staying can be wise too. What matters is seeing the trade-offs clearly.

The real reasons some Nigerians are staying put

Staying in Nigeria is often framed as “managing” or “enduring”. That language misses what many stayers are actually doing. They’re choosing a base that gives them control, even when the country feels unpredictable.

For some, the decision starts with work. If your income is tied to local relationships, local knowledge, or a market you understand deeply, leaving can mean starting again from scratch. A photographer who knows the Lagos wedding circuit, a caterer with trusted planners, a builder with steady referrals, a pharmacist who understands supply patterns, these aren’t small advantages. They are moats.

For others, staying is about timing. A person might plan to relocate “one day”, but not now. Not while a parent is ageing. Not while children are small. Not while they’re building a business that needs their presence. Not while they’re finishing a professional qualification. That isn’t giving up, it’s sequencing.

There’s also a growing awareness that “abroad” is not one place with one outcome. Some people relocate and thrive. Others land, struggle, and quietly keep going because the return feels like failure. The public story is often shiny, the private story is messy. That gap is why a few Nigerians are choosing a path they can shape at home, even if it takes grit.

It also helps that the conversation is changing. You see more open talk about reverse moves and return plans. A recent report on Nigerians being drawn back home adds texture to this shift, showing that migration is not always one-way traffic, even if the wider outflow remains strong (as discussed by RTE).

Family, community, and a support system you can actually use

In Nigeria, support often comes with noise, opinions, and “Have you eaten?” texts. It can also come with something more valuable than vibes, practical help.

A real support system can look like:

• A sibling who can pick up your child when traffic traps you.
• An auntie who knows a reliable nurse and won’t “manage” your health.
• A neighbour who can keep an eye on the house during travel.
• A faith community that shows up with meals when life gets rough.

Starting life abroad can be like moving into an empty flat with bare floors. Everything must be bought, built, and arranged, even your friendships. Back home, many people already have furniture in the emotional sense. Not perfect, but present.

A simple example shows the difference. A couple with a newborn might spend heavily abroad on childcare, transport, and convenience food just to keep their heads above water. In Nigeria, if trusted family helps with childcare two afternoons a week, that isn’t just comfort. It’s money saved, stress reduced, and time returned.

Relocation is costly, stressful, and not always the upgrade people expect

Relocating can be a fresh start, but fresh starts are expensive. Fees pile up fast: exams, visa applications, proof of funds, flights, deposits, winter clothes, local transport passes, and the “small small” expenses that keep arriving.

Then there’s the shock of rent. Many people earn more abroad, but they also spend more abroad. A higher salary can still feel tight after rent, tax, bills, and transport take their share.

There’s also the emotional cost. Loneliness doesn’t always arrive as sadness. Sometimes it shows up as silence after work. No familiar jokes. No quick visits. No friend who can dash over in 20 minutes. Even confident people can feel unsteady when they’re unknown again.

And work is not always smooth at first. Some newcomers start in roles below their skills while they sort paperwork, local experience, or licensing. The pride of “I’m abroad” can clash with the reality of odd shifts and tight budgets.

None of this means relocation is bad. It just means the upgrade isn’t automatic. Many Nigerians are deciding that if life will be hard either way, they’d rather struggle on ground they understand.

For more context on why “japa” stays powerful as an idea even with its costs, this long read on the mood of the moment is useful: Nigeria’s terminal Japa wave.

Opportunity is growing at home, even when things are tough

Nigeria can feel like a place where problems queue up. Power. Prices. Petrol. Pressure. But to an entrepreneur or a builder mindset, problems are also demand wearing a mask. Where systems fail, people pay for solutions, as long as you offer real value and deliver consistently.

That’s one reason some Nigerians stay. They’re looking at the size of the market and seeing space. A large population means constant need: food, transport, health, housing, education, entertainment, care work, repairs, and simple convenience.

This doesn’t erase the hardship. Inflation and uncertainty can ruin plans. Still, a few people believe they can grow faster at home because the gaps are wide and the competition is uneven. You don’t have to be “the best in the world”, you often just have to be reliable, clear, and trustworthy.

Government actions can shape this backdrop too, even if people remain sceptical. Skills programmes, infrastructure pushes, transport cost plans, and tax relief talks all sit in the wider mix that can support growth when they’re well executed. For a sense of how international observers describe Nigeria’s economic direction and reform mood, see the World Bank’s statement on positive economic momentum in Nigeria. It’s not a promise of easy living, but it helps frame why some people are betting on a longer runway at home.

Academic work has also started treating “reverse brain drain” and skills return as more than wishful thinking, reflecting a real debate about what staying and returning could mean for development (see: Reverse Brain-Drain Approach to Socio-Economic Development).

Business and side hustles can scale faster in a big, hungry market

Nigeria rewards businesses that solve everyday pain. Not fancy, not over-packaged, just useful.

You see it in:

• Food: meal prep, bulk shopping help, small chops, healthy bowls for offices.
• Logistics: dispatch services, last-mile delivery, storage and packaging.
• Education: after-school tutoring, exam prep, skills training.
• Beauty and personal care: hair, skincare, nails, barbing, home services.
• Repairs: phones, generators, inverters, appliances, cars.
• Farming and supply: poultry, fish, vegetables, farm-to-city distribution.
• Digital services: social media support, editing, ads, websites for SMEs.

Local knowledge is a secret weapon. You know when customers buy, what they fear, and what they’ll tolerate. You know the difference between “I’ll get back to you” and “I’m not interested”. You also know how trust works. In many Nigerian markets, trust isn’t a slogan, it’s the product.

Before going all-in, many stayers run small tests. A simple checklist helps keep emotions out of it:

• Demand: Who needs this weekly, not once?
• Pricing: Can you charge enough to cover costs and still sell?
• Supplier: Can you restock without drama or price shocks?
• Cashflow: Will you have cash tied up for weeks?
• Delivery: Can you meet timelines, even in traffic and rain?

If those basics don’t hold, passion won’t save the business.

Remote work, tech skills, and earning in stronger currencies without leaving

One of the biggest shifts is psychological: some Nigerians no longer see “stay” as “stay local”. With remote work, your address can be Nigeria while your clients are in London, Toronto, or Berlin.

This shows up in real jobs and real gigs:

• Product and project roles.
• Design (UI, graphics, motion).
• Coding and QA testing.
• Writing and editing.
• Customer support and community roles.
• Data work and analytics support.

Remote work is not magic money. It takes time to build proof, references, and routines. It also takes patience when you apply and hear nothing back. Many people who make it work treat it like a long game, not a lucky break.

Practical notes Nigerians mention often:

• Internet: have at least one back-up (second ISP, router plan, or co-working option).
• Proof: a portfolio beats big talk, even if it’s small projects.
• Referrals: one solid person can open three doors.
• Payments: use trusted, legal channels, keep records, and don’t play games with tax or identity.

If you want a simple explanation of “japa” pressures and why some people still choose to build locally, this piece gives a useful snapshot of the mood: JAPA Syndrome- A Mass Exodus of Nigerian in Search ….

Building a good life in Nigeria, what staying requires (and how people make it work)

Staying works best when it’s treated like a plan, not a prayer. People who are building a decent life in Nigeria don’t pretend the pain points aren’t real. They just reduce risk where they can, and they choose stability over vibes.

The common challenges are familiar: power costs, fuel swings, security concerns, rising prices, and public services that don’t always show up. The response from stayers is rarely dramatic. It’s mostly quiet systems and personal rules.

How people plan around power, safety, healthcare, and schooling

Here are straightforward strategies many households use, without acting like everything is fine:

• Power: budget for a realistic mix (inverter or solar where possible, plus fuel planning), and track usage so costs don’t surprise you.
• Neighbourhood choice: pick areas based on daily life (road access, flooding risk, security presence, noise, water), not status alone.
• Security habits: keep routines sensible, avoid flashing wealth, verify service workers, and use trusted transport options at night.
• Healthcare: identify two clinics you trust (one close, one backup), keep basic meds at home, and ask about health cover options where available.
• Schooling: prioritise consistency and care, then add extras (clubs, tutoring) rather than paying purely for branding.

None of these removes risk. They just stop small issues from becoming disasters.

A simple money plan that makes staying feel safer

Money stress is often the thing that turns “I can manage” into “I must leave”. A basic plan can soften that edge, even when income is uneven.

What many stayers do, in plain terms:

• Build an emergency fund that can handle a job gap, illness, or rent shock.
• Reduce high-interest debt, because it grows teeth fast.
• Create more than one income stream (a side gig, freelance work, small trade).
• Keep records, even if it’s a simple spreadsheet, because memory lies.
• Save in a way that matches your goals. Some people mix local savings with foreign currency savings, staying legal and transparent, and avoiding panic moves.

If you want to start this month, keep it simple. Five actions are enough:

1. Write down your fixed monthly costs, then circle the non-negotiables.
2. Set an emergency fund target, start with one week of expenses.
3. Pick one skill to monetise, and commit to 30 minutes daily practice.
4. Create a separate account or wallet for bills, and fund it first.
5. Track every naira for seven days, then cut one leak without drama.

Small routines can make staying feel less like a gamble.

Conclusion

The “japa” story is real, and for many people it’s still the right move. But staying in Nigeria can also be a deliberate choice, shaped by support systems, a clear view of relocation costs, and a belief that opportunity can be built at home.

Some stay because family and community reduce stress and spending. Some stay because starting again abroad feels heavier than people admit. Some stay because Nigeria’s market is big, and they can grow faster by solving everyday needs, sometimes with remote income as a stabiliser.

In the end, the best path is the one that fits your values, your risk level, and your timeline. If you had to choose with no applause from anyone, what would you pick?