For years, Nigerians joked about “japa” as though it were simply another fashionable word for travelling abroad.

Today, it is far more than that.

“Japa”; the Nigerian expression for leaving the country in search of better opportunities has become one of the defining social and economic stories of modern Nigeria.

From doctors and nurses to engineers, academics, technology professionals, artisans and young graduates, Nigerians are increasingly looking beyond the country’s borders for better wages, security, professional growth and a more predictable future.

The question is no longer simply: Why are Nigerians leaving?

The bigger question is: What happens to Nigeria when some of its most educated, ambitious and productive citizens leave?

The answer is complicated.

Nigeria loses human capital, but gains remittances. It loses experienced professionals, but its diaspora acquires international expertise. It loses taxpayers and consumers, but receives billions of dollars from citizens abroad.

That is the paradox of Japa.

The Human Capital Nigeria Loses

Consider the Nigerian doctor.

A medical student spends years in university, followed by internship, housemanship, residency and specialist training. Much of that education is supported by Nigerian families and institutions.

Then the doctor leaves.

The destination country receives a fully trained professional without having to bear the cost of those formative years.

Recent figures reported from the UK’s General Medical Council show the scale of the movement. According to data reported by Punch in April 2026, 4,691 Nigerian doctors relocated to the United Kingdom between May 29, 2023 and 2026.

And the UK is only one destination.

Nigerian-trained professionals are also moving to the United States, Canada, Australia, Ireland, the Gulf countries and elsewhere.

The effect becomes more serious when migration reaches a systemic level. When large numbers of doctors leave, those who remain inherit heavier workloads. Patients may face longer waits, specialists become harder to find and burnout increases.

The same story is playing out among nurses.

By March 2025, 15,421 Nigerian-trained nurses and midwives had received licences to practise in the UK since 2017, according to figures from the Nursing and Midwifery Council reported by Nigerian media.

The problem is not that Nigerians want better lives. They should have that choice.

The deeper question is why a Nigerian professional can become more valuable financially and professionally simply by crossing an international border.

Why Are They Leaving?

It is tempting to accuse young Nigerians of abandoning their country.

That misses the point.

Most people do not leave because they hate Nigeria. They respond to incentives.

A young graduate looks at salaries, inflation, electricity, housing, insecurity, healthcare, education and career opportunities. Then comes the comparison with what is available abroad.

The decision becomes less ideological and more practical.

For many Nigerians, “japa” is not about abandoning the country. It is about refusing to abandon themselves.

A doctor wants modern equipment. A nurse wants a better working environment. An engineer wants a functioning industrial ecosystem. A software developer wants access to global opportunities.

If the fastest route to those goals is outside Nigeria, many will take it.

The tragedy is that many of these people would probably prefer to succeed at home if the environment allowed them to do so.

The Loss Goes Beyond Healthcare

The brain drain is not limited to doctors and nurses.

Nigeria is also losing young people in technology, finance, engineering, academia, research, construction, aviation, education, media and entrepreneurship.

A country does not build a modern economy simply by producing graduates. It builds one by retaining talented people long enough for their knowledge to become businesses, inventions, research, institutions, jobs and public value.

When a 28-year-old engineer leaves, Nigeria does not lose only today’s worker. It potentially loses decades of future productivity.

When a lecturer leaves, the country loses a teacher, researcher and mentor.

When an entrepreneur leaves, Nigeria may lose not only the entrepreneur but also the jobs that business could have created.

This is why the most serious consequences of Japa may not be visible at the airport. They may become obvious 10 or 20 years later.

But Nigeria Is Also Gaining

Migration is not entirely a national loss.

Nigeria’s diaspora is a major economic asset, particularly through remittances.

The World Bank estimated that Nigeria received more than $20 billion in official remittances in 2023, making it the largest remittance recipient in Sub-Saharan Africa.

That money pays school fees, hospital bills and rents. It supports parents, builds houses, finances businesses and helps families survive economic shocks.

For millions of Nigerian households, the relative who “japa’d” has effectively become an economic support system.

But remittances are only one part of the story.

A Nigerian who spends years working in London, Toronto, New York, Dubai or Melbourne can acquire skills, experience and international connections that can eventually benefit Nigeria.

The diaspora can transfer technology, mentor young Nigerians, finance businesses, connect Nigerian companies to international markets and bring international standards back home.

The objective, therefore, should not necessarily be to stop Nigerians from leaving.

It should be to ensure that leaving does not become a permanent disconnection.

Nigeria needs to turn brain drain into brain circulation.

The Cost of Educating People Who Leave

There is, however, a difficult economic question Nigeria must confront: Who pays for the professionals who leave?

A Nigerian doctor does not emerge from nowhere. The country invests in universities, teaching hospitals, lecturers and public infrastructure. Families also spend enormous amounts educating their children.

Then another country receives the professional.

This creates a situation in which developing countries can effectively subsidise the human-capital needs of richer economies.

Nigeria therefore needs policies that make migration mutually beneficial rather than simply exporting scarce human capital.

The Family Cost

There is also a social cost that statistics cannot fully capture.

Behind many Nigerians who leave is a family.

A mother whose son now lives in Manchester. A father whose daughter works in Toronto. Children grow up while a parent works abroad. Husbands and wives maintaining marriages across continents.

The financial benefits can be considerable, but money cannot completely replace presence.

A remittance can pay school fees. It cannot attend a child’s school play.

It can pay a medical bill. It cannot hold an ageing parent’s hand in a hospital.

This is the human contradiction at the centre of Japa: a family can become financially stronger while becoming emotionally more distant.

Who Can Blame the Young?

This is where Nigeria’s national conversation needs to become more honest.

It is easy to tell young Nigerians to stay and build the country. But they will reasonably ask:

Build what? With what opportunities? Under what conditions?

The burden of patriotism cannot be placed entirely on citizens.

Patriotism does not pay rent. It does not create jobs. It does not repair hospitals or guarantee personal safety.

A country that wants its best young people to stay must make staying competitive.

The choice should not be between patriotism and prosperity. Nigerians should be able to pursue both.

Nigeria Should Stop Asking How to Prevent Japa

Nigeria cannot realistically stop migration and it should not try to.

Migration is a normal part of a globalised economy.

The better question is:

How do we build a Nigeria that people are willing to leave temporarily, but not permanently?

That means better wages and working conditions for critical professionals, investment in healthcare, reliable electricity, functional universities, security, access to capital and a productive industrial sector.

It also means merit-based institutions where competence is rewarded.

Most importantly, Nigeria must treat its diaspora as a strategic national asset rather than remembering them only when foreign exchange is needed.

From Japa to Japa and Return

Nigeria should develop stronger diaspora programmes that make it easier for Nigerians abroad to contribute.

A Nigerian doctor abroad should be able to return for a three-month specialist programme without drowning in bureaucracy.

A Nigerian engineer in Germany should be able to collaborate easily with a Nigerian university.

A technology executive abroad should be able to invest in Nigerian start-ups with confidence.

A Nigerian professor overseas should be able to teach or conduct research with Nigerian institutions.

The objective should be circulation rather than disappearance.

Nigeria has the numbers. What it needs is the system.

The Bigger Danger

The greatest danger is not that Nigerians are leaving.

It is that Nigerians may stop believing there is anything worth returning to.

There is a crucial difference.

A young Nigerian who leaves for postgraduate education and returns with new knowledge is an asset.

A doctor who leaves for specialist training and returns to establish a modern hospital is an asset.

An entrepreneur who builds wealth abroad and invests back home is an asset.

A researcher who joins an international institution and uses that network to create opportunities for Nigerian universities is an asset.

But if the permanent ambition of every talented Nigerian becomes simply to obtain a foreign passport and never look back, Nigeria has a much deeper problem.

That problem cannot be solved at the airport.

It must be solved at home.

Japa Is a Mirror

Perhaps “Japa” is not a disease.

Perhaps it is the symptom.

It is a mirror reflecting what Nigerians believe about their country and their future.

When a brilliant 25-year-old Nigerian says, “I want to leave,” the national response should not automatically be anger.

It should be a question:

What made leaving more attractive than staying?

And when a Nigerian abroad sends money home, invests in a business, supports relatives or returns to establish a company, the country should ask another:

How can we turn this diaspora relationship into national development?

The answer will determine whether Japa becomes one of Nigeria’s greatest losses or one of its greatest opportunities.

The Choice Before Nigeria

Nigeria is unlikely to reverse migration by preaching patriotism.

It will reduce the damaging effects of brain drain by creating conditions in which talented Nigerians can see a future at home.

Until then, departure halls across Nigeria will continue to tell the same story.

Young people will leave. Families will wave goodbye. Airports will fill with graduates carrying certificates, dreams and passports.

Somewhere in London, Toronto, New York, Dubai or Melbourne, another Nigerian will begin a new chapter.

The tragedy is not that they leave.

The tragedy would be if Nigeria becomes a country from which the best must leave in order to become their best.

Japa is therefore both a warning and an opportunity.

Nigeria is losing doctors, nurses, engineers, academics, entrepreneurs and young professionals. But it is also building one of the world’s most powerful African diasporas.

The task before government, business leaders and citizens is to decide what happens next.

Will Nigeria continue to export talent and import remittances?

Or will it build a country where talent can move freely, succeed globally and still find compelling reasons to come home?

That is the real Japa question. And Nigeria cannot afford to get the answer wrong.

Comr. Agyo Atsika Mgbashongha is a student of International and Diplomatic Studies at the National Open University of Nigeria, Abuja. He is a researcher, Freelance Writer, unionist, and an active member of the Nigeria Boys’ Brigade, Benue State Council.