The Festive Return and Nigeria’s Class Divide
Holiday periods in Nigeria transform into vibrant spectacles, reminiscent of movie scenes. Airports witness emotional reunions, upscale clubs see champagne freely flowing, and prominent Afrobeats artists command stages across the nation, drawing massive crowds.
The IJGB Phenomenon
This festive atmosphere is largely driven by Nigerians returning from abroad, often referred to as “IJGB” (I Just Got Back). These individuals bring more than just luggage; they carry with them a distinct cultural and economic influence.
Their interactions often blend Western accents with local Pidgin, their spending power is amplified by favorable exchange rates, and their presence provides a significant boost to the Nigerian economy. However, this influx also casts light on a stark reality.
The “Detty December” Dilemma for Locals
Nigerians residing within the country, earning in Naira, often feel excluded in their own cities, particularly in economic centers like Lagos and Abuja. The festive season witnesses a surge in prices, creating a sense of being priced out.
“Detty December,” the moniker for the Christmas and New Year celebration period, exacerbates this issue. A Lagos-based radio presenter, speaking anonymously, described to the BBC how “Detty December” renders Lagos “almost unlivable” for local inhabitants. The period is marked by severe traffic congestion, inflated prices, and businesses shifting focus away from regular clientele.
This sentiment is not isolated. As Easter and the summer holiday season for the diaspora approach, many are questioning whether the influx of IJGBs is bridging Nigeria’s class divide or further widening the gap.
Nigeria’s Stark Class Divide
The radio presenter highlighted Nigeria’s class-based society, stating, “Nigeria is very classist. Ironically, we’re a poor country, so it’s a bit silly. The wealth gap is massive. It’s almost like we’re worlds apart.”
Despite Nigeria’s status as a major African economy and the continent’s most populous nation, with abundant oil reserves, its vast population of over 230 million encounters significant hardship and limited prospects.
Oxfam issued a warning earlier this year regarding Nigeria’s wealth disparity, labeling it as reaching a “crisis level.”
Concerning Wealth Statistics
- Recent data from the World Inequality Database reveals that over 10% of Nigerians control more than 60% of the nation’s wealth.
- Among employed individuals, the top 10% earners receive 42% of the total income.
- The World Bank estimates that 87 million Nigerians live below the poverty line, making it the second-largest impoverished population globally after India.
Root Causes of the Wealth Gap
Professor Martins Ifeanacho, a sociologist at the University of Port Harcourt, suggests that Nigeria’s wealth disparity and class divisions have deepened since its independence in 1960. “We’ve gone through so much economic hardship,” he told the BBC.
Professor Ifeanacho attributes this to the “greed” of political elites at both federal and state levels, who prioritize accumulating power and wealth, neglecting the needs of ordinary citizens and contributing to widespread hardship.
Wealth Beyond Finances: Perception and Social Status
The issue transcends mere monetary wealth. Both actual and perceived wealth impact access, social standing, and opportunities. The diaspora’s presence can further accentuate these class divisions. As the radio presenter noted, “Nigeria’s class system is hard to pinpoint. It’s not just about money, it’s about perception.”
He illustrated this point with an anecdote about Lagos restaurants where patrons arriving in luxury vehicles like Range Rovers receive prompt attention, while those in less ostentatious cars might be overlooked. This highlights how social mobility is hampered when wealth is concentrated within a small elite segment of society.
The “Japa” Wave and Emigration
Faced with limited upward mobility, many Nigerians perceive emigration as the most viable path to a better quality of life.
The World Bank attributes this trend to “weak job creation and entrepreneurial prospects” that fail to absorb the 3.5 million Nigerians entering the workforce annually. Consequently, “many workers choose to emigrate in search of better opportunities,” the organization states.
While middle-class Nigerians have sought opportunities overseas since the 1980s, this outward migration has intensified in recent years, particularly amongst younger generations like Gen Z and millennials. This mass departure is commonly known as “japa,” a Yoruba term signifying “to escape.”
The Hurdles of “Japa” and the Pressure to Succeed
A 2022 survey indicated that at least 70% of young Nigerians would emigrate if given the opportunity. However, leaving Nigeria is often a complex and expensive undertaking. Pursuing education abroad, a common pathway for emigration, can cost tens of thousands of dollars, excluding expenses for travel, housing, and visas.
Lulu Okwara, a 28-year-old recruitment officer and an IJGB who studied in the UK, notes that “Japa creates this aspirational culture where people now want to leave the country.” She also observes a significant pressure to achieve in Nigerian society, adding, “It’s success or nothing. There is no room for failure.”
This cultural emphasis on success drives individuals, especially those from working-class backgrounds, to feel compelled to prove themselves. Professor Ifeanacho explains that for many Nigerians abroad, “their dream is always to come back as heroes, mostly during Christmas or other festivities.” The warm reception and sense of homecoming they experience are deeply valued.
Accents, Social Mobility, and the Illusion of Success
In the pursuit of success, even adopting a foreign accent can be perceived as a means to ascend Nigeria’s social hierarchy, regardless of actual international travel experience. Professor Ifeanacho states, “People fake accents to get access. The more you sound British, the higher your social status.”
He recounted the anecdote of a pastor who preached with an American accent on the radio despite never having left Nigeria, highlighting the perceived social currency of these accents in professional and social contexts.
However, social media discussions also suggest that for some IJGBs, the “returning hero” image might be a facade. Bizzle Osikoya, owner of The Plug Entertainment, shared with the BBC instances where IJGBs sought refunds after attending his events, potentially indicating a pressure to maintain an image of affluence despite financial constraints. This may illustrate a broader societal emphasis on outward appearances and performative success in Nigeria, where IJGBs who project an image of prosperity are often seen to climb the social ladder.