Every time a Nigerian says, “I want to Japa,” someone eventually asks:
“If everybody leaves, who will stay and fix Nigeria?”
It is a fair question.
But I think there is another question we don't ask enough:
What happens to the person who stays?
I started thinking about this differently after losing an academic year because of a system that simply didn't work the way it should.
I became seriously ill and couldn't sit for some of my examinations. I submitted my medical documents and followed the process I was given.
Then I waited.
Months passed.
When the results eventually came out, the courses I missed were recorded as carryovers. After going back and forth trying to get the situation resolved, I eventually lost an entire academic year.
I was grateful to be alive and recovering.
But I was also angry.
I had lost time, money, energy and the chance to graduate with my mates.
That experience taught me something simple: sometimes people are not trying to escape responsibility. Sometimes they are simply tired of paying the price for systems that don't work.
And I think that is part of what Japa represents for many young Nigerians.
Not hatred for Nigeria.
Not necessarily a lack of patriotism.
Sometimes, just the desire to see what your effort can become in an environment where the basics work a little better.
A 2024 Afrobarometer survey found that 56% of Nigerians had considered leaving the country. Among 18–35-year-olds, it was 60%, and among people with post-secondary education, 71%. The leading reasons included looking for work opportunities and escaping economic hardship.
Those numbers make it difficult to dismiss Japa as simply young people being ungrateful.
People have reasons.
But I also don't think we should pretend that mass migration has no cost.
Nigeria needs skilled people. The healthcare sector is an obvious example: WHO has identified Nigeria as one of the countries facing a severe shortage of health workers, while migration is one of the challenges affecting retention.
So yes, when doctors, nurses, engineers, teachers and other skilled Nigerians leave, the country loses something.
But can we really solve that by telling people to stay?
I don't think so.
You cannot convince someone to stay by making them feel guilty for wanting a better life.
If we want young Nigerians to build here, then staying has to be more than a patriotic sacrifice.
It has to be a reasonable choice.
Because what exactly are we asking people to stay and build with?
A country where households report around seven power outages a week, with typical outages lasting about 12 hours, is asking its citizens to solve problems that are much bigger than individual determination.
And yet, I don't believe the answer is simply “Everybody should leave.”
Because what happens to the people who cannot leave?
What happens to the communities left behind?
What happens when the people with the skills to improve things are all looking for the exit?
That is the uncomfortable part.
Japa can be good for an individual and still be difficult for a country.
Both things can be true.
I also don't think patriotism should mean sacrificing your entire youth to repair problems you didn't create.
You can leave Nigeria and still contribute.
You can invest here.
Build a business here.
Support your family.
Create opportunities.
Return with knowledge and experience.
Or simply help someone back home when you have the capacity to do so.
And if you choose to stay, that should be respected too.
For me, patriotism should mean caring about Nigeria and doing what I reasonably can to make things better.
It should not mean proving my love by suffering.
So, must I stay to prove that I love Nigeria?
No.
But wherever I go, I shouldn't forget where I came from.
And if Nigeria wants more of us to stay, perhaps the conversation shouldn't only be:
“Why do you want to leave?”
It should also be:
“What would make you want to stay?”
Because people shouldn't have to choose between loving their country and wanting a decent life.
Maybe the goal isn't to make Nigerians afraid to leave.
Maybe it is to build a Nigeria that gives them a reason to return.
98





