Japa's Hidden Cost: The Mental Pressure of Starting Again Abroad

By AfroView TV Lifestyle Desk


For many Nigerians, the dream begins with a suitcase.

A passport is secured. A visa arrives. Family members gather for a final meal. Friends take pictures at the airport. Social media fills with congratulations.

“Congratulations, my brother.”

“Congratulations, my sister.”

“Greater things await you.”

For the person leaving Nigeria, the moment can feel like the beginning of a completely new life.

But what happens after the airport goodbye?

What happens when the excitement fades, the weather becomes unfamiliar, the bills begin arriving, work becomes exhausting and the people you love are thousands of kilometres away?

That is the part of Japa that is increasingly receiving attention.

Japa — the Nigerian expression widely used to describe leaving the country, particularly in search of better opportunities — has become one of the defining social and economic conversations among young Nigerians.

Research published in 2026 found a significant association between young Nigerians' intentions to migrate and indicators of anxiety, depression and overall mental wellbeing. The study surveyed 350 Nigerians aged 18 to 35 across Nigeria's six geopolitical zones and found that 68 percent of participants reported moderate-to-high levels of intention to migrate. Economic hardship and unemployment were identified among the major drivers.

The findings reveal something important.

Sometimes, the pressure does not begin after people leave.

It can begin while they are still at home.

THE DREAM OF A BETTER LIFE

For many young Nigerians, wanting to leave is not necessarily about rejecting Nigeria.

It can be about wanting stability.

A better-paying job.

A functioning system.

Better educational opportunities.

Greater career prospects.

A safer environment.

A chance to build something.

Academic research examining Nigerian youth migration has described how some educated and employed young Nigerians frame migration as a form of survival rather than simply a lifestyle choice.

That distinction matters.

Someone who sees migration as a way to escape economic pressure may arrive abroad carrying enormous expectations.

The new country is not simply a destination.

It becomes the answer to everything that was difficult back home.

And that can create another kind of pressure.

WHEN THE DREAM MEETS REALITY

The internet can make life abroad look deceptively easy.

A photograph beside a European landmark.

A new apartment.

A winter jacket.

A new car.

A university graduation.

A restaurant in a beautiful city.

A caption announcing:

“New beginnings.”

What the photograph doesn't show may be the night shift that came before it.

It may not show the cramped accommodation.

It may not show the rent.

It may not show the loneliness.

It may not show the person eating alone after working several hours.

And it certainly cannot show homesickness.

A Nigerian living abroad recently went viral after describing how loneliness, frustration and stress had affected him. His comments triggered another online conversation about the emotional challenges some migrants experience after relocation.

The story resonated because it challenged a familiar assumption:

If someone has successfully left Nigeria, haven't they already won?

Not necessarily.

THE LONELINESS NOBODY POSTS

One of the hardest parts of starting again can be rebuilding a social network.

Back home, relationships may happen naturally.

A neighbour can become a friend.

A cousin can live nearby.

A church, mosque, school, workplace or community can provide a familiar network.

Abroad, that network may disappear overnight.

You may have to build everything again.

New friends.

New routines.

New professional relationships.

New cultural understanding.

Even ordinary conversations can require adjustment.

Humour may be different.

Food may be different.

Workplace expectations may be different.

People may communicate differently.

And suddenly, the person who was surrounded by people in Lagos, Abuja, Enugu, Port Harcourt, Benin City or another Nigerian city may find themselves spending much of their time alone.

That isolation can become particularly difficult during important moments.

Birthdays.

Christmas.

Weddings.

Family celebrations.

The birth of a child.

The death of a loved one.

A parent's birthday.

A sibling's graduation.

The events that once brought everyone together may now happen through a phone screen.

THE VIDEO CALL PROBLEM

Technology has made distance easier.

But it has not eliminated distance.

A video call can allow a migrant to see their parents.

It can allow children to speak with grandparents.

It can allow couples to remain connected across continents.

But eventually, the call ends.

The screen goes dark.

And everyone returns to their separate lives.

Research and reporting on Nigerian migration have highlighted the emotional consequences of family separation, including stress, anxiety, sadness and difficulties adjusting to new environments.

For some families, the emotional cost is especially complicated because the person who left is expected to succeed.

There is little room to say:

“I am struggling.”

THE PRESSURE TO LOOK SUCCESSFUL

This may be one of the most uncomfortable parts of the Japa conversation.

A person abroad may feel pressure to appear successful even when life is difficult.

Why?

Because everyone back home believes the sacrifice must produce results.

Family members may expect financial support.

Friends may assume money is easily available.

Relatives may believe that someone earning in pounds, dollars or euros must automatically be wealthy.

The migrant can therefore become more than a son, daughter, brother or sister.

They can become the family's financial emergency department.

School fees?

Call the person abroad.

Medical bill?

Call the person abroad.

House project?

Call the person abroad.

Family business?

Call the person abroad.

Unexpected crisis?

Call the person abroad.

The expectation can become overwhelming.

And sometimes, saying “I cannot afford it” feels like admitting failure.

WHEN SUCCESS BECOMES A PERFORMANCE

Social media makes this even more complicated.

People naturally share their victories.

They don't usually upload themselves crying after a difficult shift.

They don't post the rejection letter.

They don't photograph the loneliness.

They don't announce that they have not made a single close friend in months.

They don't always tell their families that they are struggling financially.

As a result, people preparing to migrate may see an edited version of life abroad.

The result can be a dangerous comparison:

“Everyone who japa is succeeding except me.”

But the reality is more complicated.

Migration can create opportunities.

It can also create stress.

Both things can be true at the same time.

THE MENTAL HEALTH QUESTION

A recent Nigerian study published in the African Journal for the Psychological Studies of Social Issues specifically examined the relationship between Japa intentions and mental-health indicators among Nigerian youths. It reported associations between migration intention and depression and anxiety, while also finding lower levels of general mental wellbeing among those with stronger migration intentions.

That does not mean migration itself causes mental illness.

It is important to make that distinction.

People leave for many different reasons and have very different experiences.

Some thrive abroad.

Some struggle.

Some eventually return.

Some establish permanent lives overseas.

Others discover that what they really wanted was not another country, but a more stable life.

The point is that geographical movement does not automatically solve emotional problems.

As Nigerian psychiatrist Dr. Gbonjubola Abiri recently wrote in Vanguard Allure, migration can bring opportunities while also creating challenges involving loneliness, homesickness, identity, family separation and financial pressure.

THE FAMILY LEFT BEHIND ALSO PAYS A PRICE

The Japa conversation often focuses on the person leaving.

But what about the people staying?

Parents may watch their children grow up through photographs.

Grandparents may miss the childhood years of grandchildren.

Siblings may become strangers who communicate mostly through WhatsApp.

Husbands and wives may spend months or years apart.

Families may celebrate important occasions without some of their closest members.

The emotional consequences can therefore spread across borders.

The person who leaves may experience loneliness.

The people who remain may experience absence.

Sometimes everyone is sacrificing something for the hope of a better future.

WHAT ABOUT THE PEOPLE WHO RETURN?

There is another side of the conversation that receives less attention:

Japada.

Returning home after living abroad can bring its own emotional challenges.

Someone may return with new expectations, habits and experiences.

Nigeria may look different.

Friends may have moved on.

Family relationships may have changed.

The person who left may also have changed.

Research and Nigerian diaspora discussions increasingly recognise return migration as part of the broader Japa story.

Coming home is therefore not always as simple as buying a return ticket.

Sometimes the hardest journey is discovering where you belong after you have changed.

SO, SHOULD NIGERIANS STOP JAPA?

That is not the right question.

People have legitimate reasons for seeking opportunities elsewhere.

Migration can improve someone's career, education, income and quality of life.

It can expose people to new cultures and opportunities.

It can also allow Nigerians abroad to support families and contribute to communities back home.

The more useful question is:

Are we preparing people for the reality of migration, not just the excitement of departure?

Before leaving, prospective migrants need more than visa information.

They need realistic financial planning.

They need to understand housing and employment conditions.

They need to research the culture and legal environment of their destination.

They need emergency savings where possible.

They need social support.

And importantly, they need to understand that asking for emotional or professional help is not failure.

THE CONVERSATION NIGERIANS NEED TO HAVE

Perhaps the biggest problem is that Japa is sometimes presented as an escape rather than a transition.

Escape suggests that everything becomes better immediately.

Transition acknowledges that change can be difficult.

A person can be grateful for a new opportunity and still miss home.

They can be earning more and still feel lonely.

They can love their new country and still miss Nigerian food.

They can be building a successful career while privately struggling.

They can be proud of leaving and still wonder what they left behind.

None of these feelings automatically mean that the decision was wrong.

They simply mean the person is human.

THE REAL MEANING OF “MAKING IT”

For years, Nigerian society has often measured success through visible achievements.

A foreign passport.

A big house.

A new car.

A prestigious job.

Money sent home.

But perhaps the definition of success needs to become broader.

What if making it means being financially stable and emotionally well?

What if success means building a career without destroying your health?

What if it means supporting your family without becoming overwhelmed?

What if it means creating a life where you don't have to pretend everything is perfect?

And what if someone discovers that their best life is actually in Nigeria?

That should not automatically be considered failure.

Likewise, someone who builds a meaningful life abroad should not be made to feel guilty for leaving.

The real story of Japa is much more complicated than “leave Nigeria and become successful.”

It is a story about hope.

Ambition.

Sacrifice.

Family.

Identity.

Loneliness.

Opportunity.

And the human need to belong.

For Nigerians considering the journey, perhaps the most important preparation is not simply asking:

“How do I get out?”

It is also asking:

“What kind of life am I trying to build when I get there?”

Because changing countries can change your address.

But building a better life requires much more than changing your location.

Your mind, relationships, expectations and sense of purpose travel with you.

And perhaps that is the hidden side of Japa that deserves far more attention.