Two pejorative terms are used to describe the phenomenon of Nigerians emigrating to other countries. One is “japa”, a word that became so popular it has entered the Oxford English Dictionary. According to the OED, to “japa” means “to leave Nigeria for another country (esp. one in Europe or North America) in search of further education, employment, or economic opportunity.” More generally, it also means “to escape, to flee.” The other pejorative term is “brain drain”, a well-worn phrase describing a situation where a country loses its highly trained or qualified people to other countries through emigration.

Well, “japa” is symptomatic of a deeper malaise that can perpetuate the spiral of decline in a country. The economics Nobel laureates Daron Acemoglu and James Robinsonargue in their famous book Why Nations Fail  said that good governance often requires pressure from the people. But when citizens choose to flee or escape rather than stay and fight for good governance, where’s the pressure on those in power to govern well?

As for “brain drain”, it goes without saying that a country that loses its best brains to other countries will have fewer competent people and, thus, less human capital at home. For instance, the Nigerian Medical and Dental Council once said that only about 27,000 of the 71,740 medical doctors registered in Nigeria actually practised in this country. Nigerian medical doctors and other medical professionals, such as nurses, are major contributors to the health sectors of the UK and the US. The same is true of teachers and other highly-skilled individuals. These talented people, some would say, should be developing Nigeria but are developing other countries!

However, the issues are not that simple for two reasons. First, in a study on poverty trap, two World Bank economists Art Kraay and David McKenzie argued that “the strongest evidence for a poverty trap at an individual level is the one based on country of residence”. In other words, many people will remain poor if they stay in their home country. Thus, it’s rational for any Nigerian who sees no future at home to japa, if possible, in search of better opportunities abroad. What’s more, no country can expect its people to stay if it doesn’t provide the right environment for them. 

Second, the narrative about brain drain has changed. Instead of “brain drain”, scholars now talk about “brain gain”, a growing phenomenon where individuals who went abroad return home, armed with new skills and experiences, to contribute to their country’s development. Many Nigerians have done so. But, as Dr Segun Aganga said in his book Reclaiming the Jewel of Africa, gifted and accomplished Nigerians in the diaspora “do not have to return to the homeland to make valuable contribution.” Countless diasporans are giving back to Nigeria without returning home.

To repeat: “brain drain” can become “brain gain”. Indeed, the renowned Indian-born, US-based, economist Jagdish Bhagwati called for a “Diaspora Model”, arguing that having their own people in the rich countries works to the advantage of developing countries. Of course, Professor Bhagwati is right. Think about how much Nigerians in the diaspora remit home every year. According to a World Bank estimate, the Nigerian diaspora remitted over $65bn to Nigeria between 2018 and 2020, accounting for four per cent of GDP. Imagine how many households in Nigeria are relieved from excruciating poverty and misery because of the money Nigerians abroad send home.And what would naira’s exchange value be without such remittances?

Surely, then, the government should incentivise greater inflows of diaspora remittances, shouldn’t it? Yet, the CBN imposes several foreign exchange restrictions known as capital flow management measures, CFMs. For instance, dollars remitted home can only be exchanged at the official rate and can only be paid out in naira. That’s neither a market-based mechanism nor a great incentive to attract significantly more remittances.

But beyond remittances, there’s export trade. A few years ago, I was one of the expert reviewers of a Commonwealth report titled “The Commonwealth in the Unfolding Global Trade Landscape”. The report says Commonwealth members have a “trade advantage” because their large diasporas represent viable export markets. For Nigeria, the diasporic community extends to the US, Europe and China. It is estimated that there are over 20 million Nigerians in the diaspora. If the government is serious about promoting non-oil exports, that’s the market it must target. But that requires more than wishful thinking, it requires deliberate cultivation of the diaspora.

The Buhari government rightly established the Nigerian Diaspora Commission, NiDCOM, and Abike Dabiri-Erewa, the Chairman/CEO, has raised its profile. However, the commission’s impact is not felt beyond issues of human trafficking and treatment of Nigerians abroad,and congratulatory messages to Nigerian achievers abroad. NiDCOMmust collaborate with the economic ministries to harness the economic advantage of the Nigerian diaspora. But Nigerians in the diaspora mustn’t be seen only as economic assets; they must also be engagedpolitically and allowed to vote remotely in Nigerian elections. 

My passport plight with the Nigeria High Commission London

I am one of those Nigerians in the diaspora who “give back” but don’t return home regularly. That meant – not a good excuse, I admit – there was no urgency to renew my Nigerian passport. However, twice, when I tried to renew it,the experiences were painful.

In late 2019, I applied to renew my passport and was given an appointment in March 2020. However, before the appointment, the UK government imposed a COVID-19 lockdown that lasted well over one year. After the lockdown was lifted and I could go out around May 2021, I tried to secure another appointment with the High Commission, but to no avail. Every phone call I made went straight to voicemail. Eventually, I was told the application had lapsed. I had to reapply, forfeiting about $150. Then, in November last year, I applied for a ten-year passport, costing $242. But no appointment was available until June this year. 

A June appointment, which meant I might not get the passport until July, wasn’t helpful because, by God’s grace, I intend to come to Nigeria shortly for a major event. Yet, there was a wall of formality. On someone’s advice, I wrote to the acting High Commissioner, Ambassador Mohammadu Maidugu. A week later, I received a call from the High Commission. “Sir, regarding your letter to His Excellency, the acting High Commissioner, sorry we can’t give you an earlier appointment.”

Then, the caller said: “Do you have a British passport?” I said yes. “You should apply for an Emergency Travel Certificate. It costs £120 but only lasts for one month.” I wondered: Why should it take six to seven months to renew a Nigerian passport. It took three weeks to renew my British passport and everything was done online! Well, I wait, with bated breath, for the Emergency Travel Certificate!