The biggest blow following #EndSARS, however, was not to the economy but to the psyche of Nigerian youth. One by one, disillusioned young protesters activated their plan B—fleeing from Nigeria. They applied for visas, hosted farewell gatherings with loved ones and booked one-way tickets out of the country. In doing so, they believed they were reclaiming their future and that of their unborn children.  

Aniekan, now a data scientist in the United States, shared her story, explaining that she left Nigeria due to a lack of suitable work opportunities. She told me:  

I was already planning to leave Nigeria when the whole #EndSARS killings happened. At the time, I couldn’t see many companies that would offer me the career I wanted in my desired field. I needed better compensation, opportunities, more challenging work and bigger companies.  

While she had plans in motion to emigrate, she recalls how the brutality in the wave of the #EndSARS protests and the government’s perceived non-response was further confirmation of this resolve: 

The incident just strengthened my resolve, and I knew that I had to do whatever I could, legally and morally, to leave. Even if I was considering that, if it did not work out, maybe I will stay back. With the #EndSARS protest killings, there was no plan B, there was no other option, there was no place to fall back to; that was the mindset I had. This place was no longer safe for me; my life was no longer valued. I had to fight really hard to leave, especially at the time I left, because I lost hope. 

This wave of migration would not be the first of its kind in Nigeria. Nigerians at different points have migrated in their droves, but the drivers behind these movements have changed over time. For instance, during the Nigerian Civil War (1967 to 1970), some fled to other countries for safety. This first wave of migration was abruptly curtailed by Ghana’s 1969 mass deportation of over 200,000 foreigners, many of whom were Nigerians. Following closely to this was Nigeria’s oil boom of 1973. This oil boom created an economic surge and led to a drastic reduction in emigration. However, this period of prosperity was short-lived as a sharp decline in world oil prices in the 1980s triggered another wave of migration. The austere measures of the Structural Adjustment Program, as a condition of an International Monetary Fund loan, caused further hardship to the middle class. The third wave, under the Sani Abacha regime, was driven by pure suffering, pushing a huge number of lower- and middle-class citizens to emigrate and, as a result, saw the advent of many illegal migrants. It is quite unfortunate that over the years, Nigeria’s biggest export has been its citizens. 

In recent times, Nigerians emigrate for reasons ranging from, but not limited to, unemployment, lack of opportunities and prospects, poor public infrastructural systems, insecurity and political neglect. Elections in different years often hold the promise of a better country but end up dead on arrival. The high rates of inflation with no corresponding increase in wages and families constantly battling increasing prices with little support from the government leave them with a desire for a better life. The united passion displayed on the different #EndSARS protest grounds shed a glimmer of hope, but its catastrophic end crushed and served as a powerful accelerant, fundamentally altering the scale of this trend. The realization that the lives of everyday Nigerians could be snuffed out for simply demanding a better country transformed migration from an option for a better life into a perceived necessity for survival.  

Lanre Oladejo, a photographer now living in the United Kingdom, shared a similar experience in a 2024 interview with Tayo Aina on the reasons Nigerians were emigrating to the UK. In his words,  

The breaking point for me was the #EndSARS protest. If you look at the motives of all those young people who came out to protest, their motive was a better Nigeria. At the end of the day, see what happened to them. Just imagine that, God forbid my son grows up and something like that happens to him in his own country. It is a painful thing to imagine. It was at that point that I decided that even though I love Nigeria, it was time to put myself and my family first. 

In the same vein, health advocate Nonso Bobby Egemba, popularly known as Aproko Doctor, tweeted, ‘A lot of Nigerians lost hope in this country when it treated us like terrorists just because we asked for an end to police brutality. That was the last straw for many people.’ 

The close link between the protests and the accelerated emigration trend has been substantiated by official data. The British Home Office reported a significant increase in the number of study and work visas granted to Nigerian nationals, with figures rising sharply from 15,760 in 2019 to 36,783 in 2021 and 65,929 in 2022. This reflects a geometric rise in the migration from Nigeria to the UK when compared to the years preceding 2020. Interestingly, most Nigerians enter the UK through study permits, raising the question of whether migration is aimed at acquiring knowledge or a mere survival strategy.  

Similarly, reports show a notable surge in the issuance of visas to the United States. In 2021, approximately 30,878 Nigerians received non-immigrant US visas. This figure then exploded in the subsequent year, where 97,369 Nigerians received non-immigrant US visas, marking a staggering 215 per cent increase compared to 2021. Records further show that 2,115,139 persons emigrated from Nigeria in 2022, while 1,574,357 more left the country between January to September 2023, marking a total of about 3,679,496 persons who have left Nigeria between 2022 and 2023 alone. In line with this trend, the International Organization for Migration (IOM) reported that 2.1 million Nigerians were already abroad by the end of 2024. These numbers do not include those who set out on the journey, crossing the desert and the Mediterranean Sea. 

Undoubtedly, the tragic end of the #EndSARS protests shattered the already wobbly hopes of many young Nigerians who had, as a result of the joint efforts displayed on the protest grounds, believed in the possibility of positive change within the country. This collective demand for a better country, encapsulated by the protest slogan ‘Soro Soke’, which is Yoruba for ‘speak up’, has been replaced by an individual, and resolute decision to japa (to flee). The japa phenomenon is a silent, yet potent, protest against a system that failed to listen when the youths spoke up. It is safe to call this a resolute national abandonment.