Why Thousands of Elderly Nigerians Are Choosing Britain Over Home – and What That Says About Nigeria’s Failure to Care for Its Own
By Nze Emmanuel Ehirim | Guest Writer
Across the world, retirement is widely regarded as a time to return home, reconnect with family and spend one’s later years in the comfort of familiar surroundings. For thousands of elderly Nigerians living abroad, however, that cherished dream is becoming increasingly difficult to realise.
There comes a moment in every person’s life when the ambitions of youth gradually give way to a deeper longing for peace, familiarity and dignity. It is the season when people begin to dream of returning home—to the streets where they were raised, the language they first spoke, the meals that remind them of childhood and the communities that shaped their identity.
For thousands of Nigerians living in the United Kingdom, that dream remains alive. After decades of hard work, many hope to spend their retirement surrounded by children, grandchildren, lifelong friends and the rich cultural heritage they have never stopped loving.
Yet, for a growing number of them, that dream never becomes reality. Not because they have stopped loving Nigeria. But because they are afraid of growing old there.
That painful reality deserves the urgent attention of policymakers, healthcare professionals and political leaders across Nigeria. It raises uncomfortable questions about how the nation treats those who spent their lives contributing to its growth before seeking opportunities abroad. My perspective is shaped not only by observation but also by professional experience.
Over the years, while working as a social worker in the United Kingdom, I have supported many elderly people from diverse backgrounds, including Nigerians who migrated decades ago as nurses, doctors, teachers, engineers, students and other professionals. They worked diligently, paid taxes, raised families and contributed immensely to British society.
Today, many of them are in their seventies and eighties, relying to varying degrees on Britain’s integrated health and adult social care system while continuing to live with dignity and independence. Whenever conversations turn to Nigeria, something remarkable happens. Their faces brighten.
They speak affectionately about Owerri, Aba, Benin City, Lagos, Kano, Enugu, Port Harcourt and countless other communities where their memories remain firmly rooted. They recall childhood friendships, festive family gatherings, colourful markets, traditional ceremonies and the warmth of Nigerian hospitality.
Many still dream of spending the rest of their lives at home. But almost every one of those conversations ends with the same heartbreaking admission:
“I want to return home, but I cannot.”
That single sentence captures a painful national reality. It is not merely a personal decision; it is an indictment of a system that has failed to assure its citizens that old age in Nigeria can be lived with dignity, security and compassionate care.
When asked why they remain in Britain despite longing for home, their answers are remarkably consistent. They fear becoming frail without anyone to care for them.
They worry about suffering a stroke, developing dementia, losing mobility or living with chronic illnesses without organised support. They wonder who would help them bathe, prepare meals, manage medications, attend hospital appointments or respond promptly during emergencies.
Many fear becoming an unbearable burden on children and relatives who are already struggling under severe economic pressure.
Others speak openly about insecurity.
Some worry about unreliable electricity, especially where life-saving medical equipment, refrigerated medication or even basic comfort depends on a stable power supply.
Many also express concern about poor access to specialist healthcare, inadequate rehabilitation services and the long distances often required to receive quality medical treatment.
For these elderly Nigerians, remaining in Britain is often less about comfort than survival. ..For those elderly Nigerians remaining in Britain, their decision is less a rejection of Nigeria than a reflection of the uncertainties surrounding old age back home. Their experiences expose one of Nigeria’s least discussed, yet most pressing national challenges—the absence of a comprehensive system for caring for older citizens.
Nigeria often celebrates its youthful population, but rarely prepares for the inevitable reality that today’s young people will become tomorrow’s elderly citizens.
Advances in healthcare have increased life expectancy, allowing more Nigerians to live longer than previous generations. While this is a welcome development, it also means the country must prepare for a growing number of citizens living with chronic illnesses, disability, frailty and age-related cognitive conditions.
Unfortunately, public policy has failed to keep pace with this demographic transition.
Across much of Nigeria, growing old still depends almost entirely on the goodwill, availability and financial capacity of family members.
For generations, the extended family served as Nigeria’s informal social welfare system. Adult children cared for ageing parents, while relatives and neighbours shared responsibility for supporting vulnerable older people.
Today, that long-standing social contract is steadily weakening.
Urbanisation has dispersed families across cities and continents. Economic hardship forces many working adults to juggle multiple jobs simply to survive. Millions of young Nigerians have relocated abroad in search of better opportunities, leaving ageing parents behind. Smaller family sizes and changing lifestyles have further reduced the ability of families to provide full-time care.
Yet, government intervention has remained largely absent.
Unlike many developed nations, Nigeria has no comprehensive adult social care system capable of supporting vulnerable older people within their own homes and communities.
Publicly funded home-care services are extremely limited. Community nursing remains inadequate. Day-care centres for older adults are almost non-existent. Dementia services are still in their infancy, while specialist geriatric medicine remains underdeveloped.
The consequences are becoming increasingly evident.
Many elderly Nigerians spend their later years isolated, medically underserved and increasingly vulnerable, with little or no structured support beyond family members and well-meaning neighbours.
Imo State reflects this wider national reality.
Across towns and villages, many elderly men and women struggle daily with hypertension, diabetes, arthritis, stroke-related disabilities, visual impairment and other chronic health conditions with very little professional support. Those fortunate enough to have children living nearby receive assistance. Many others depend almost entirely on neighbours, churches or sheer resilience.
Healthcare facilities themselves often lack the specialist personnel, equipment and coordinated support systems required to meet the complex needs of an ageing population. Long waiting times, shortages of specialists and high out-of-pocket medical costs discourage many elderly citizens from seeking timely treatment, allowing preventable conditions to become life-altering disabilities.
Equally concerning is the limited attention given to gerontology—the scientific study of ageing—and geriatric social work within Nigeria’s policy framework. Without professionals specifically trained to understand the physical, emotional, psychological and social realities of ageing, building an effective support system for older citizens will remain a daunting challenge.
Nigeria’s elderly deserve far better than a future defined by uncertainty and neglect. Their experiences should serve as a wake-up call for policymakers at every level of government.
In Part Two, we examine how Britain’s adult social care system supports older citizens, the practical lessons Nigeria can adapt, and why Imo State has an opportunity to lead the nation in building a comprehensive framework for elderly care.
About The Author:
Nze Emmanuel Ehirim is a corporate communication practitioner, community development advocate and social policy commentator with extensive experience in governance, leadership, social justice and sustainable development.
He writes regularly on public policy, accountability, community participation, oil and gas governance, environmental justice, education, security and socio-economic development.
He is passionate about promoting transparent leadership, equitable distribution of public resources and people-centred policies that strengthen democratic institutions and improve the quality of life for all citizens.
His commentaries advocate responsible governance, institutional accountability and inclusive partnerships between government, investors and local communities as pathways to sustainable development. Website: https://nzesocialjusticefoundation.org
Email: [email protected]
