💭 On Diaspora Creative Musing

For a while I was passionate about sharing content that revolved around scholarships, and it was not a bad idea because in some way the inspiration flowed naturally with results, but at some point, I just knew it was time to move on. It got boring because of the nature of the relationship with the people who were formerly the target audience. Constantly interacting within that sphere meant I had not mentally migrated fully.

I wanted more and something that was not dependent only on a Nigerian type of audience - beyond japa, scholarships, and constant pandering to "prove your life is better" because you moved abroad. I need to dig deeper because there was more I could share with the world.

I pondered my tendency to gravitate towards things familiar to my background, realizing I was barely doing much to explore the new world on the other side of the Atlantic I had worked so hard to be a part of. My longing for Nigerian sermons, writers, movies, food, online content, and other "Nigerian" elements left me feeling bored and somewhat depressed. I realized I needed to engage more with the society I was living in and stop clinging to what I had left behind. While maintaining a connection to one's roots is not inherently negative, for me, it was no longer contributing to my mental growth. It felt like I had left Nigeria, but I had yet to truly move on.

Importantly, I also wanted to focus on creating content and making money online in a way that did not require me to tap into the desperation of others, especially those Nigerians who also wanted the life I had: living and travelling abroad, studying abroad, scholarships, etc. My goal was to avoid being the type of diaspora creative whose income depends on extracting value from the same impoverished market economy I somehow "escaped." I made it out to see the world and learn about making well-grounded and better-informed life and generational decisions.

Adopting this perspective enabled me to recognize the oppressive aspects of many diasporan content creators and the exploitative labor practices between supposed diasporan employers and their employees. People would come online and argue differently, mirroring the conversations you might have in a corner shop somewhere in Nigeria, but this is the risk of living in an echo chamber where you are consistently exposed to the same worldview. Even after leaving Nigeria, your mind, eyes, and ears are still inundated with the familiar narratives you have always known.

Diaspora Influence and Extractive Business Models

A new class of digital middlemen has emerged: diaspora influencers who broker access to Nigerian audiences on many Western-based platforms while residing in London, New York, or Toronto or somewhere in the "1st world." This type of business model is fundamentally extractive; they monetize the attention and aspirations of millions back home, converting desperate dreams of escape into engagement metrics that translate to brand deals, sponsored content, and creator fund payouts.

These influencers operate from a profound contradiction. Their entire income stream depends on maintaining intimate connection to the Nigerian market, understanding the inherent trends, already speaking the language, and exploiting vulnerabilities of a broken system. The idea is never to better the collective with the new opportunities and access to resources but another form of "I better pass my neighbor." This psychological distance allows them to extract without accountability. The remittances sent home follow a predictable pattern: enough to fix the generator, pay medical bills, or pay rent and support immediate family members or fund a cousin's school fees. Just enough to stay afloat and manage within the same oppressive system, never enough to question the status quo because the idea is to join the oppressors, not to remove the oppressors.

Serious mental readjustment and structural foundational learning are required for many diasporans to see themselves as part of the problem. This would mean recognizing that we may also be beneficiaries of the dysfunction by the kind of lifestyle we may perpetuate when we get home for seasonal holidays like Detty December and use the slightest opportunity to remind people around us, "We are somewhat better." For many, the idea is to oppress and do more to perform success on social media; flexing designer purchases and overseas vacations to the same audience they monetize also sustains the loop of aspiration and extraction.

Currency Arbitrage as Exploitation: The Diaspora Employer Playbook

Many diaspora entrepreneurs, or should I say "employers," have discovered a lucrative loophole: hire Nigerian talent remotely, invoke the naira-to-dollar exchange rate, and pay wages that would be illegal in their own countries. The reason why, when I first moved to Canada and I applied for a social media manager position with a creator who had a huge following, the person outrightly told me that they could not afford to pay me the Canadian minimum wage. So they employed someone in Nigeria instead for something between $70 and $80 per month. It soon became clear to me that this was a thing. In fact, I saw plenty of vacancies on social media with the same modus operandi.

The pitch sounds generous: "I'll pay you $300 a month, which would translate to over 450,000 naira!" To someone in Lagos facing double-digit percent unemployment, it sounds like a golden opportunity. But that same employer, sitting in Toronto or Atlanta, would never accept $3.60 per hour for the same work. Their country's minimum wage is probably somewhere between $15 and $16 hourly. They know this. They simply have justified why someone in Nigeria deserves to earn less. It is a mental conditioning reinforced by the cycle of influence and frame of reference.

These employers leverage information asymmetry. Many people living in Nigeria are desperate for the next meal and could hardly be bothered to research the comparable roles' pay globally or what constitutes fair compensation for remote work. The employers frame exploitation as generosity, positioning themselves as benefactors creating "opportunities" while pocketing the difference between fair wages and poverty pay. The work is identical: graphic design, content creation, virtual assistance, and social media management.

But geography becomes justification for a 70-80% wage discount. They will demand Western-quality output, Western capitalist response times, and professional standards—then compensate at rates that barely cover transport and data costs in places they reside. What can a $3 per hour job do for someone in Toronto? But it may do wonders for the life of someone in Lagos, who gets paid that little for 8 hours of remote work. Folks will argue it is arbitrage and smart business. It is exploitation dressed in Excel spreadsheets, justified by exchange rates, and enabled by deliberate ignorance of the power imbalance they are weaponizing for profit.

As I mentioned earlier, people often rationalize this exploitative relationship with the Nigerian audience. When you continue to focus on individual successes rather than collective achievements, you gradually become similar to the oppressors who control the system you despise. Consequently, when you have the opportunity to explore the world and learn from societies that prioritize collective growth, you may never truly allow yourself to embrace it.

After spending 5, 10, or even 20 years abroad as a creative or an employer in the diaspora, you might end up perpetuating oppression in your home country. Despite physically leaving your place of origin, you never fully integrate, and your perspective on others and the world remains similar to those you left behind.