The holiday season in Nigeria transforms the country into a vibrant hub of reunions, celebratory events, and an influx of returning Nigerians, often called "I Just Got Back" (IJGB). These individuals not only bring extravagant lifestyles but also demonstrate the uncomfortable tensions around Nigeria's widening class divide. Their presence is felt in high-end clubs and concerts, with many revelers from the diaspora enjoying the advantages of favorable exchange rates and international exposure.
However, this phenomenon underscores a stark reality for those living in Nigeria, particularly in major cities like Lagos and Abuja. Amid the festive flair, residents report being increasingly marginalized, as skyrocketing prices and booming demand for luxurious services lead to everyday experiences becoming unattainable. A local radio host pointed out that during "Detty December," festive prices and holiday traffic make life hard for natives, who feel displaced in their own cities.
Nigeria, despite its wealth from oil and status as Africa’s most populous country, is grappling with profound poverty and inequality. A recent Oxfam report elevated concerns about a widening wealth gap, noting that over 10% of the populace controls more than 60% of the country’s wealth. With approximately 87 million Nigerians living below the poverty line, the social fabric is deeply strained, prompting questions about social mobility and systemic inequities.
Martins Ifeanacho, a sociology professor, argues that this divide is rooted in political indifference, as elites accumulate power and wealth while the majority suffers. This class system is complex, extending beyond economics into social perceptions—a reality reflected in the everyday interactions and treatment based on one’s financial standing.
With millions seeking better opportunities abroad, a phenomenon dubbed "japa" (meaning to escape) reflects the urgency among younger generations. The World Bank indicates that job creation is stagnant, leaving many Nigerians in dire need of relief. Consequently, aspirations for a better life increasingly necessitate leaving Nigeria.
Young Nigerians like Lulu Okwara, who studied in the UK, embody the aspirational pressure to succeed while navigating a culture that equates wealth with worth. Many returning IJGBs foster a sense of prestige—returning home has become an act of showcasing their perceived success among family and friends. The desire to return as "heroes" during festivities accentuates societal expectations on success, often laying bare the challenges those from less privileged backgrounds face.
Accents and appearances play significant roles in the social hierarchy, where even individuals who have never traveled abroad attempt to mimic foreign speech patterns to boost social standing. Yet, the façade of success is precarious; there are reports of IJGBs feigning wealth and leveraging social media to project a lifestyle that doesn’t always match reality, reflecting the pressures to maintain appearances in the eyes of a critical society.
As festivities draw near, the tension between prosperity and poverty in Nigeria continues to manifest, leading to poignant conversations about class, identity, and belonging. The returnees, despite their positive economic impact, also inadvertently reinforce exclusion and highlights disparities deeply etched within Nigeria’s socio-economic landscape.
