As the festive season unfolds, the influx of returning Nigerians from the diaspora illuminates sharp economic divides in their home country, fueling discussions on growing class disparity and societal perceptions.
The Diaspora Dilemma: Are Nostalgic Returns Increasing Nigeria’s Class Divide?

The Diaspora Dilemma: Are Nostalgic Returns Increasing Nigeria’s Class Divide?
Nigerians returning home from abroad for holidays face criticism for exacerbating economic disparities back home.
In Nigeria, the sight of emotional airport reunions and vibrant holiday celebrations brings to life a scenario reflecting both joy and a growing class divide. During festive periods, especially around Christmas and New Year, Nigerians living abroad descend upon their homeland, seamlessly merging their Western influences with local culture. Known as “I Just Got Back” (IJGB), these returnees bolster the local economy with their foreign currency and noticeable luxury spending.
However, their presence is creating palpable tension with local residents, particularly in economic hubs like Lagos and Abuja. Many locals complain about escalating prices and “Detty December” impacts, where seasonal festivities seem to prioritize the newly affluent over long-term residents. A Lagos-based radio host, who wished to remain anonymous, described how regular locals feel increasingly alienated from their own neighborhoods during this time, with businesses catering more to wealthier IJGB clientele.
The voice of the presenter echoes a troubling revelation—Nigeria, despite being rich in oil and resources, is grappling with a stark wealth divide. According to the World Inequality Database, a mere 10% of its population controls over 60% of the nation's wealth. The same report by the World Bank reveals that an alarming 87 million Nigerians now live below the poverty line, marking a troubling indicator of inequality.
Experts, including Professor Martins Ifeanacho from the University of Port Harcourt, attribute this disparity to entrenched political corruption and a lack of economic opportunities. He argues that the elites hoarding wealth exacerbate the hardships of ordinary Nigerians, effectively sealing off routes of social mobility. Wealth, viewed through the lens of perception and status, dictates access to opportunities—creating a class system that is difficult for many to navigate. The mere act of dining at a high-brow restaurant in Lagos can be dictated by the type of car one drives, positing an unspoken hierarchy that further alienates those less economically fortunate.
With millions entering the job market annually, the outlook on employment prospects is dire. Young mindsets have shifted toward seeking opportunities abroad, leading to a rise in emigration trends. "Japa," or the desire to escape economic challenges, has intensified among younger generations, with a survey indicating that 70% of young Nigerians would leave if possible.
However, transitioning abroad is fraught with challenges, leading to a culture steeped in aspirations and perceived successes. Those returning after international exposure are often under immense pressure to showcase their accomplishments, with many aspiring to “come back as heroes.” For some, speaking with a foreign accent is a gateway to climbing the social ladder, even necessitating faked personas to fit into a new social contract.
Critics suggest that not all returns are as financially buoyant as they appear. Instances of IJGBs attempting to reclaim payments after returning home have raised questions about the authenticity of status symbols. Oftentimes, the emphasis lies on perceived wealth and social performance rather than actual financial stability.
Ultimately, the contrast between the aspirations of returning Nigerians and locals grappling with daily struggles widens the class divide, leaving enormous socio-economic gaps in an already complex societal structure. As families reunite amid celebrations, deeper dialogues around class and economic mobility continue to unfold, shaping the narrative around festive gatherings and the privilege of foreign returns in Nigeria.
However, their presence is creating palpable tension with local residents, particularly in economic hubs like Lagos and Abuja. Many locals complain about escalating prices and “Detty December” impacts, where seasonal festivities seem to prioritize the newly affluent over long-term residents. A Lagos-based radio host, who wished to remain anonymous, described how regular locals feel increasingly alienated from their own neighborhoods during this time, with businesses catering more to wealthier IJGB clientele.
The voice of the presenter echoes a troubling revelation—Nigeria, despite being rich in oil and resources, is grappling with a stark wealth divide. According to the World Inequality Database, a mere 10% of its population controls over 60% of the nation's wealth. The same report by the World Bank reveals that an alarming 87 million Nigerians now live below the poverty line, marking a troubling indicator of inequality.
Experts, including Professor Martins Ifeanacho from the University of Port Harcourt, attribute this disparity to entrenched political corruption and a lack of economic opportunities. He argues that the elites hoarding wealth exacerbate the hardships of ordinary Nigerians, effectively sealing off routes of social mobility. Wealth, viewed through the lens of perception and status, dictates access to opportunities—creating a class system that is difficult for many to navigate. The mere act of dining at a high-brow restaurant in Lagos can be dictated by the type of car one drives, positing an unspoken hierarchy that further alienates those less economically fortunate.
With millions entering the job market annually, the outlook on employment prospects is dire. Young mindsets have shifted toward seeking opportunities abroad, leading to a rise in emigration trends. "Japa," or the desire to escape economic challenges, has intensified among younger generations, with a survey indicating that 70% of young Nigerians would leave if possible.
However, transitioning abroad is fraught with challenges, leading to a culture steeped in aspirations and perceived successes. Those returning after international exposure are often under immense pressure to showcase their accomplishments, with many aspiring to “come back as heroes.” For some, speaking with a foreign accent is a gateway to climbing the social ladder, even necessitating faked personas to fit into a new social contract.
Critics suggest that not all returns are as financially buoyant as they appear. Instances of IJGBs attempting to reclaim payments after returning home have raised questions about the authenticity of status symbols. Oftentimes, the emphasis lies on perceived wealth and social performance rather than actual financial stability.
Ultimately, the contrast between the aspirations of returning Nigerians and locals grappling with daily struggles widens the class divide, leaving enormous socio-economic gaps in an already complex societal structure. As families reunite amid celebrations, deeper dialogues around class and economic mobility continue to unfold, shaping the narrative around festive gatherings and the privilege of foreign returns in Nigeria.