They may live thousands of miles away, but their presence is felt in nearly every African home. From Lagos to Nairobi, Accra to Cairo, the financial support of Africans living overseas is quietly transforming lives and shaping the continent’s future.
Each year, Africans in the diaspora send over $95 billion to their home countries. That figure isn’t just impressive, it’s larger than all the foreign aid the continent receives from donor nations. And what’s more, it’s dependable. It arrives regularly, directly, and without the usual complications of official development assistance or investment deals.
For many families, this money isn’t extra, it’s essential. It pays school fees so children can remain in class. It covers emergency medical treatment that might otherwise be out of reach. It allows parents to start small businesses, build homes, or make repairs after natural disasters.
These transfers, known as remittances, are now a cornerstone of financial survival for millions of African households. They bridge the gap where government assistance is lacking, where jobs are scarce, and where inflation eats into daily wages. In several African nations, including Nigeria, Egypt, Kenya, Ghana, and Ethiopia, remittances have become one of the largest sources of foreign income, second only to oil or tourism in some cases.
Economists at the African Development Bank say this influx of funds helps stabilise national currencies and ease the burden on foreign reserves. In simple terms, when dollars, pounds, or euros are converted and spent at home, they inject strength into the local economy and keep businesses running.
But beyond economics, there’s something deeply human about the act of sending money home. For many Africans abroad, it’s not about obligation, it’s about commitment. Despite the challenges of life in foreign lands, cultural isolation, long working hours, and high living costs, they find ways to send something back.
Take Mary, a caregiver in the United Kingdom. Each month, she wires part of her salary to her mother in Enugu and to her younger brother still in university. “I don’t have much left at the end of the month,” she says, “but I sleep better knowing they are okay.”
Or consider Chinedu, a taxi driver in New York, who supports his wife and three children in Aba. “Everything I do here,” he says, “is for them. I may be in America, but my heart is still in Nigeria.”
This quiet sacrifice is repeated across the globe. In Europe, North America, the Gulf States, Asia, wherever you find Africans abroad, you find examples of people working hard, often under tough conditions, to improve lives back home.
And the money they send doesn’t pass through embassies, donor agencies, or government ministries. It goes straight to the people who need it, no red tape, no administrative fees, no waiting period.
In a world where aid often comes with complex requirements, or loans arrive with high interest and heavy consequences, remittances stand out for their simplicity and their sincerity.
According to the Institute for Security Studies, remittances are also among the most resilient sources of capital. During economic recessions, wars, or global disruptions like the COVID-19 pandemic, formal investment flows tend to decline. But diaspora support stays strong, sometimes even increasing during moments of crisis.
This consistency has caught the attention of central banks and finance ministries, many of which now include remittances in their planning models. But the broader impact goes beyond numbers.
When remittances pay for school fees, they open doors to future opportunities. When they help fund new businesses, they create jobs in places where employment is desperately needed. When they support building projects, they stimulate the local construction industry and related trades. The effect is not just personal, it is systemic.
And yet, the role of the diaspora is often underappreciated. Policy debates frequently centre on foreign investors, international NGOs, or multinational loans. But the true driver of grassroots development in Africa is, more often than not, the ordinary African living abroad, the cleaner in Qatar, the nurse in Berlin, the construction worker in Toronto, or the student in Tokyo who sends home part of their stipend.
These individuals are not waiting for perfect conditions to act. They are not relying on government intervention. They are filling the gap, one transaction at a time, with commitment and consistency.
As the African Union and national leaders strategise on how to boost economic development, it would be wise to formally recognize and empower the diaspora as a critical partner, not just for their money, but for their ideas, their networks, and their long-term stake in the continent’s future.
After all, no one is more invested in Africa’s success than its sons and daughters, whether they live on the continent or thousands of kilometres away.
If Africa continues to stand, to grow, and to dream, it is because of those who never stopped believing in her, and who back that belief with action, month after month, year after year.
The diaspora is not a backup plan. It is the lifeblood of Africa’s resilience.
Ubong Usoro for Nigeria Magazine
