Japa and the Weight of Migration

Yinka Olatunbosun

In Yoruba, Japa loosely translates to “run away” or “escape.” Over time, the term snaked its way into the catalogue of Nigerian slangs and has become a colloquial expression used to convey the idea of swift and evasive action. Perhaps, what further popularised the slang was a 2020 hit song by the singer Naira Marley, titled “Japa.”

For Emmanuel Nwachukwu, Japa is a much deeper concept; hence his subject of interrogation in the solo exhibition titled Japa: The Search for Greener Pastures.

For him, leaving is never just about movement. It is about abandonment; choosing to erase parts of yourself to fit into a new world. 

“When I left Nigeria in 2022 to study abroad, I quickly realised that migration is not just about crossing physical borders but about negotiating survival in an unfamiliar space.

“I was not alone in this realisation,” the artist explained. “The more I spoke with fellow migrants, the more I saw a pattern, the deep uncertainty, the cultural dissonance, the silent but persistent loneliness. These moments often left out of mainstream migration narratives became the foundation for JAPA: The Search for Greener Pastures.”

This ongoing series reflects on the psychological, cultural, and political dimensions of migration, examining how individuals reshape their identity within systems designed to keep them out. The show questions the validity of greener pastures, using light and shade to set the tone for the embedded messages. 

“In Greener Pastures, I stage a moment of stillness—a subject frozen in contemplation, standing at the edge of departure,” Nwachukwu continued. Reflecting on the subject in the painting, he said, “She is captured walking forward, dragging her suitcase through an open field, a metaphor for the weight of decision-making and the myth of migration as a linear success story. The visual contrast—lush greenery symbolising promise, yet an isolated figure within it—questions whether the pursuit of a “better life” is truly attainable or just another form of displacement.” 

In another piece, titled “Echoes in the City,” a time-lapse-inspired photograph captures the experience of an immigrant in a bustling metropolis. The subject stands still as the city moves around them—blurred figures passing by in oblivion. Even in the busiest cities of the world, an immigrant can feel like a ghost.

“This image speaks to the invisibility of migrants, particularly in western spaces that rely on their labour but rarely acknowledge their presence,” he added. “It also reflects the internal conflict of assimilation – watching the world move forward while feeling stuck between two identities. Migration comes at a price- not just the literal cost of visas and permits but the physical and emotional toll of labour.”

In ‘Survival,’ work uniforms and steel-toe boots become symbols of sacrifice and endurance. The lighting- harsh and directional, casting deep shadows- mimics the exhaustion of long hours spent trying to build a new life. One of the images in this series captures the ritual of dressing of work, each gesture symbolising a departure from self- codeswitching, adapting, surviving. His underlying message? The dream of a new life often comes at the cost of one’s old self.