
Culture
Nigerians Abroad Sometimes Exaggerate How Bad Life Is Back Home
Some Nigerians abroad describe home as one long NEPA blackout. Nigeria has serious problems, but the people living here may understand their own lives better than a cousin explaining Nigeria from Manchester.
Let me say this before somebody calls me jealous: Nigeria has serious problems. Nobody is denying that. Light can disappear when you need it most, the price of almost everything behaves like it has its own travel plans, and dealing with some public offices can make a calm person start speaking in tongues.
But some Nigerians abroad describe life back home as if the entire country is one long NEPA blackout and everybody is trekking five kilometres to fetch water.
You will be on a family call, minding your business, then one cousin who left Nigeria twelve years ago will start explaining Nigeria to the people currently living in Nigeria.
“You people don’t understand how bad it is there.”
Ah. We that woke up here this morning don’t understand. Please continue from Manchester.
The funny thing is that many people abroad are still carrying the version of Nigeria they left behind. In their mind, the road is still exactly as bad as it was in 2013, the area still has no supermarket, and everybody they knew is still waiting for a visa. They don’t always notice that people’s lives have moved forward too. Businesses have grown. Neighbourhoods have changed. Some people have built comfortable lives without relocating anywhere.
This doesn’t mean Nigeria has suddenly become paradise. Far from it. Inflation is brutal. Insecurity is real. Healthcare can be frightening. Plenty of people are genuinely struggling, and anyone pretending otherwise is also being dishonest.
The point is that Nigeria is not one single experience.
The person earning ₦120,000 every month and spending half of it on transport is living a very different Nigeria from the person working remotely, living close to family and earning in dollars. The family dealing with insecurity in one part of the country is not having the same experience as someone whose biggest Saturday problem is deciding between two restaurants in Lagos.
Both realities exist at the same time.
But once some Nigerians relocate, every good thing back home becomes suspicious. If you say you enjoy your life in Nigeria, they look at you like Stockholm syndrome has entered your body. If you say you are not planning to leave, they assume you either lack ambition or have not suffered enough.
Meanwhile, many of them are also editing their own experience abroad.
They will tell you about constant electricity but skip the part about rent. They will mention clean roads but not the loneliness. They will praise the transport system but forget to mention leaving home in darkness during winter, working two jobs and booking an appointment before visiting a friend.
Then December reaches and they land in Lagos ready to enjoy the very place they have spent eleven months describing as uninhabitable.
Suddenly it is beach house, suya, wedding, club, family party and “Nigeria is actually sweet when you have money.” Yes, brother. Money has always been a very talented tour guide.
To be fair, Nigerians at home also exaggerate life abroad. Some people think the moment you enter Canada, pounds and dollars begin growing behind your apartment. They don’t see the taxes, bills, immigration anxiety, childcare costs or the emotional weight of starting again. That is why one uncle can casually ask somebody who is barely surviving in London to send money for a new car.
So the exaggeration goes both ways.
Still, there is a particular kind of pity that sometimes comes from abroad that can be irritating. People living in Nigeria do not need to be spoken about like helpless victims waiting for rescue. Many are frustrated, yes. Many want to leave, yes. But many are also building careers, raising families, enjoying friendships and creating lives they genuinely value.
Leaving Nigeria can improve your life. Staying can also be a deliberate decision, not a failure of imagination.
The honest conversation is not “abroad is good and Nigeria is bad” or the reverse. It is that every place collects its payment differently. Nigeria may charge you in stress, unreliable systems and unnecessary drama. Life abroad may charge you in isolation, pressure, bills and the feeling that you are permanently proving you belong.
People should choose the price they can live with.
Just don’t move abroad and begin speaking about more than 200 million people as if everybody you left behind is suffering through the same terrible Tuesday. Some people are doing badly. Some are managing. Some are doing very well. Some even had a better weekend than you.
Nigeria needs honest criticism, not pity mixed with superiority. And Nigerians abroad deserve honesty about their struggles too, not the usual “you are abroad, what problem can you possibly have?”
Maybe we would understand one another better if both sides stopped turning location into a competition.
Do Nigerians abroad sometimes exaggerate how terrible life is back home—or are people in Nigeria simply becoming too defensive about the truth?
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