As a Nigerian, I often hear people say Nigerians abroad are “too competitive,” like a friend studying in the US recently told me. He said the intense drive from other Nigerians at his school makes him feel as if he isn’t working hard enough. But here’s the truth I shared with him, which cuts to the core of this perception: Nigerians are not actually competing with the people around them, we ’re competing primarily with ourselves and the very real circumstances we left behind. It’s a battle to be better than who we were yesterday and to secure a brighter tomorrow for ourselves and families.
This drive isn’t just about being the best in the room; it’s about survival and legacy. Imagine the sacrifices and effort involved in crossing “seven seas and seven rivers” to reach a destination that many of your gifted peers back home can only pray to get to. Now, add the overwhelming pressure of not wanting to fail your family, your umu-nna, and all those who have invested their hopes and meager resources in you. When you carry that weight, working hard doesn’t feel optional anymore, it becomes a necessity. The hard work becomes second nature because it’s not just about personal ambition, but a collective promise to uplift and create opportunities for all who depend on you. It’s the knowledge that failure is simply not an option because it impacts an entire network.
When you look at successful Nigerians in the diaspora, their stories are rarely about simple luck. Take, for example, Adebayo Ogunlesi, a towering figure in finance who owns five airports in the UK and manages investments worth more than $50 billion through his firm, Global Infrastructure Partners. When you hear these numbers, you realize they are built on relentless dedication, strategic mastery, and a refusal to be limited by expectations. Or look at the thousands of brilliant Nigerian students who earn full scholarships to prestigious American universities every year, a recent cohort saw 33 students receive scholarships totaling nearly $3 million to study in the US. These aren’t coincidences; they are the undeniable fruits of perseverance and resilience grown from the grit of the Nigerian spirit.
You’ve also seen deeply personal stories like Aramide’s, a young woman from Ibadan who, despite facing the dual challenges of immigration and limited initial capital, opened a successful African cuisine restaurant in the United States. Her journey was full of obstacles, from securing permits to navigating cultural differences, but her entrepreneurial spirit and refusal to quit turned those challenges into stepping stones. These examples mirror countless Nigerians in the diaspora who not only integrate into foreign communities but often become leaders in technology, academia, arts, health, and sports. Their success is globally impactful, with many sending billions in remittances back to Nigeria annually, a powerful testament to their success and ongoing commitment to their roots.
Being Nigerian means carrying the fierce spirit of a country where infrastructure and opportunity are sometimes limited, but ambition knows no bounds. It means being intensely resourceful, resilient, and determined to rewrite narratives wherever we go. Our perceived competitiveness isn’t about overshadowing others; it’s about demanding and securing a better life, and never settling for less than our absolute best. For us, every achievement abroad echoes the struggles and dreams rooted back home.
This is why Nigerians excel anywhere they find themselves, with a tenacity that can’t easily be explained unless you understand the weight of their realities and the depth of their hopes. In essence, we compete - not with others - but with ourselves, striving to make every tomorrow better than yesterday. That is the Nigerian spirit. That is the true reason why we succeed.