When Escape Becomes Survival: ‘Japa’, Nigeria’s Great Youth Exodus

By Ugo Inyama

Across airports, embassies, and social-media farewell posts, a generation is on the move. Japa — the street slang for “escape” has become the defining word of modern Nigeria. It captures not only flight but also frustration, hope, and quiet protest.

Migration itself is not a curse; every thriving nation participates in global mobility. What makes Nigeria’s situation alarming is the scale, speed, and symbolism of its youth exodus. It reveals a nation bleeding its brightest minds and most productive hands. To ignore this outflow is to underestimate a development emergency.

Nigeria has one of the world’s youngest populations, with over 70 per cent under 35. Yet youth unemployment hovers above 30 per cent, and underemployment is far worse. Each year, half a million graduates enter a labour market that neither absorbs nor inspires them. The United Kingdom alone issued more than 65,000 skilled-worker visas to Nigerians in 2024. Canada, the United States, Germany, and the UAE remain magnets for the country’s restless youth. This wave is not merely about migration; it is a quiet vote of no confidence in the system.

Beyond Jobs: A Crisis of Trust and Inclusion

Economics tells part of the story; governance tells the rest. Many young Nigerians no longer trust public institutions or believe that effort leads anywhere. Corruption, nepotism, and exclusion have created a climate where talent is wasted and dreams deferred.

A 2024 Africa Polling Institute survey found that seven out of ten Nigerians aged 18–35 would permanently relocate if given the chance. That number is not about adventure; it reflects lost faith in leadership and fairness. From #EndSARS to recurring university strikes, the youth have watched governments break promise after promise and silence dissenting voices. For many, Japa is not just an economic choice — it is an emotional escape from dysfunction and insecurity.

Every professional who departs represents more than just a statistic; it is the loss of innovation and national capacity. Nigeria spends scarce resources training doctors, engineers, and teachers, only to see them strengthen other economies. The Nigerian Medical Association estimates that more than half of Nigerian doctors now practise abroad or are processing exit documents. The real loss, however, is psychological, the erosion of hope at home.

The Underlying Drivers

The forces propelling Japa are both structural and emotional. Economic fragility is central. Inflation near 30 per cent, stagnant wages, and currency devaluation have crushed purchasing power. Professionals can no longer see a path to financial stability.

Insecurity compounds the despair. Kidnappings, terrorism, and communal violence have made vast regions unsafe. Safety itself has become a privilege. Institutional decay deepens the hopelessness. Education, electricity, and healthcare the basic duties of the state — are increasingly privatised in survival mode. Nigerians now pay for what government should provide, fuelling resentment and flight among those who can afford to leave.

Social aspiration and digital influence also play their part. Social media constantly exposes young Nigerians to peers thriving abroad. Migration becomes not only an economic pursuit but a social symbol of progress and dignity. In a nation where merit rarely wins, leaving feels like reclaiming control.

From Exodus to Empowerment

Reversing this tide demands sincerity, not slogans. Nigeria must address both the push factors driving people out and the pull factors drawing them away. Education must be rewired to serve the economy. Our universities still prepare students for a world that no longer exists. Curricula should evolve to match the Fourth Industrial Revolution — digital skills, renewable energy, creative industries, and entrepreneurship.

Job creation must become the heartbeat of national policy. Nigeria needs a coherent employment strategy, not scattered programmes. Large-scale youth jobs can emerge from targeted investment in agriculture, manufacturing, and technology — sectors that absorb labour and drive inclusive growth.

Youth enterprise must be unlocked, not stifled. Fewer than five per cent of young entrepreneurs can access formal credit because of collateral demands and punishing interest rates. Government must create credit guarantees, innovation hubs, and mentorship networks that de-risk enterprise and connect start-ups to markets.

Trust must also be rebuilt through inclusion. The Not Too Young To Run law was a start, but participation must go beyond symbolism. Reducing the cost of politics and opening genuine seats at decision-making tables will restore faith. Public recruitment and appointments should favour competence, not connections. Once merit is restored, confidence will follow.

Making Nigeria a Country Worth Staying In

Migration, when voluntary and strategic, can benefit both the migrant and the homeland. But when it becomes a survival strategy, it reflects a nation’s failure to protect aspirations. Nigerian youth are not unpatriotic — they are pragmatic. They seek dignity, fairness, and opportunity, values that have become scarce at home.

To stem this exodus, Nigeria must rebuild trust, reward competence, and restore hope. The goal is not to stop people from leaving but to make staying desirable again — to make Nigeria a place where talent blossoms, not withers.

This transformation demands honest leadership and sustained investment in human capital. A government that values merit, promotes security, and upholds fairness will see its youth choose to stay. The same ingenuity that drives Nigerians to succeed abroad can rebuild the nation — if given a fair chance.

From “Japa” to Homecoming

Nigeria’s greatest resource has never been oil or minerals — it is its people. When opportunity meets ability and merit triumphs over favour, migration will cease to be protest and become a choice. If the country invests in its youth and restores confidence in institutions, Japa will one day give way to homecoming.

*Ugo Inyama writes from the African Digital Governance Centre, Manchester, UK. www.africandgc.org