The influx of Nigerians returning from abroad, known as I Just Got Back (IJGB), showcases both cultural celebration and stark economic disparity. While these expatriates inject cash and energy into the local economy, they also amplify the class divide, leaving many residents feeling excluded and struggling to cope with rising living costs during festive periods.**
The Class Divide: Are Nigerian Diaspora Visitors Driving Economic Disparity at Home?**

The Class Divide: Are Nigerian Diaspora Visitors Driving Economic Disparity at Home?**
As Nigerians from abroad return home during holiday seasons, their economic impact raises questions about the widening class divide among residents.**
In Nigeria, the holiday season often stirs a unique blend of excitement and tension, especially with the return of expatriates, affectionately known as I Just Got Back (IJGB). Their homecomings are marked by emotional reunions, luxurious celebrations, and bustling events, contributing significantly to the local economy. However, the presence of these returning Nigerians also unveils a troubling reality for those who have remained at home.
Nigerians abroad possess Western accents and changed lifestyles that often contrast sharply with local experiences, especially in metropolitan hubs like Lagos and Abuja. Their visits, particularly during festive seasons such as "Detty December"—a term emblematic of Christmas and New Year celebrations—heighten the class divide as prices soar and locals grapple with increased living costs.
Local residents have expressed feelings of alienation in their own neighborhoods, particularly during the holiday rush. The festive spirit, while invigorating for some, leaves others questioning if the IJGBs are reinforcing economic disparities rather than bridging them. A Lagos-based radio presenter pointed out a bitter irony: despite Nigeria's status as an oil-rich nation, many citizens have limited access to basic opportunities and live starkly different realities.
Recent statistics paint a grim picture of economic inequality in Nigeria, with Oxfam declaring the wealth gap to be at "crisis level." Reports suggest that a mere 10% of the population controls over 60% of the country's wealth, leaving around 87 million Nigerians in poverty. This condition has deep historical roots, traces of which can be observed since the country gained independence in 1960.
Sociologist Martins Ifeanacho notes that political corruption and the elite's obsession with wealth preservation bolster economic division. He contends that the ordinary Nigerian is routinely overlooked, perpetuating systemic hardships and deepening societal rifts.
The IJGB phenomenon extends beyond just financial differences. It embodies perceptions of status, where even a vehicle’s brand can dictate treatment received at restaurants. The intertwining of wealth and social standing is critical in Nigeria, fostering a culture where emigration, or "japa," becomes increasingly attractive, particularly for younger generations seeking viable futures.
A recent survey revealed that around 70% of young Nigerians are willing to leave the country for improved prospects abroad, and rising costs associated with studying overseas hardly discourage this trend. Lulu Okwara, a young recruitment officer and frequent IJGB, noted the immense pressure to succeed, sharing that the societal expectation to return in grandeur often drives those who have studied abroad back to Nigeria.
While many who return aspire to be viewed as successful, there’s concern over the authenticity of this success. Some IJGBs attempt to maintain an affluent image, even going so far as to dispute payments for services upon returning to the West, raising questions about the superficiality of their economic clout.
This ongoing contest of social performance, whether one is genuinely wealthy or attempting to project wealth, points to the deeper structural issues faced by many Nigerians. The quest for social mobility remains a formidable challenge in a system where access to wealth, however perceived, governs status, opportunities, and the stark societal divide that separates the affluent from the struggling masses.
As discussions continue, observers remain vigilant about the impact of diaspora on the local economy, ultimately questioning whether these homecomings truly foster unity or whether they further highlight and entrench existing divides.
Nigerians abroad possess Western accents and changed lifestyles that often contrast sharply with local experiences, especially in metropolitan hubs like Lagos and Abuja. Their visits, particularly during festive seasons such as "Detty December"—a term emblematic of Christmas and New Year celebrations—heighten the class divide as prices soar and locals grapple with increased living costs.
Local residents have expressed feelings of alienation in their own neighborhoods, particularly during the holiday rush. The festive spirit, while invigorating for some, leaves others questioning if the IJGBs are reinforcing economic disparities rather than bridging them. A Lagos-based radio presenter pointed out a bitter irony: despite Nigeria's status as an oil-rich nation, many citizens have limited access to basic opportunities and live starkly different realities.
Recent statistics paint a grim picture of economic inequality in Nigeria, with Oxfam declaring the wealth gap to be at "crisis level." Reports suggest that a mere 10% of the population controls over 60% of the country's wealth, leaving around 87 million Nigerians in poverty. This condition has deep historical roots, traces of which can be observed since the country gained independence in 1960.
Sociologist Martins Ifeanacho notes that political corruption and the elite's obsession with wealth preservation bolster economic division. He contends that the ordinary Nigerian is routinely overlooked, perpetuating systemic hardships and deepening societal rifts.
The IJGB phenomenon extends beyond just financial differences. It embodies perceptions of status, where even a vehicle’s brand can dictate treatment received at restaurants. The intertwining of wealth and social standing is critical in Nigeria, fostering a culture where emigration, or "japa," becomes increasingly attractive, particularly for younger generations seeking viable futures.
A recent survey revealed that around 70% of young Nigerians are willing to leave the country for improved prospects abroad, and rising costs associated with studying overseas hardly discourage this trend. Lulu Okwara, a young recruitment officer and frequent IJGB, noted the immense pressure to succeed, sharing that the societal expectation to return in grandeur often drives those who have studied abroad back to Nigeria.
While many who return aspire to be viewed as successful, there’s concern over the authenticity of this success. Some IJGBs attempt to maintain an affluent image, even going so far as to dispute payments for services upon returning to the West, raising questions about the superficiality of their economic clout.
This ongoing contest of social performance, whether one is genuinely wealthy or attempting to project wealth, points to the deeper structural issues faced by many Nigerians. The quest for social mobility remains a formidable challenge in a system where access to wealth, however perceived, governs status, opportunities, and the stark societal divide that separates the affluent from the struggling masses.
As discussions continue, observers remain vigilant about the impact of diaspora on the local economy, ultimately questioning whether these homecomings truly foster unity or whether they further highlight and entrench existing divides.