Every month, millions of Nigerians and Africans, in Lagos, Abuja, London, and Toronto, wake up to the same silent pressure:

“The family back home needs money.” 

According to a recent World Bank report on remittances, Nigerians living abroad sent home over $20 billion in 2023 alone, one of the highest figures in sub-Saharan Africa. 

Behind the figure are millions of people who feel pressured to send money they don’t have, just to prove they’re “doing well abroad.

And most times, it’s true.

Sometimes it’s for food, school fees, or hospital bills.

Sometimes it’s for a building project.

Sometimes, it’s just because “you’re the one in the city now.”

These requests often sound harmless, “Things are hard here,” “You know you’re our hope,” “Just do something.”

But beneath that emotional appeal is a deep fatigue. Many city dwellers are expected to stretch already thin incomes even further, despite barely staying afloat themselves.

So, let’s ask the hard question: when you can barely survive yourself, should you keep sending money home?

Why Do Nigerians Feel Obligated to Send Money Home?

In many Nigerian families, success is communal by default.

When one person “makes it,” everyone else is expected to benefit.

Culturally, success is not personal, it’s collective.

You’re not just you; you’re “our son in Lagos,” “our sister abroad,” “the one who made it.”

Saying no feels like betrayal.

But that cultural script was written in a different time, one where moving to the city or abroad almost guaranteed prosperity.

Today, that’s no longer true.

The economy has changed, but expectations haven’t.

What Happens When You Give More Than You Can Afford?

If you earn ₦400,000 and spend ₦380,000 on survival (rent, food, transport) sending ₦30,000 “home” means you’re saving nothing.

That’s not generosity.

That’s slow self-erasure.

You can’t sustain others on unsustainable income.

You may buy short-term peace, but you’re building long-term poverty, both for yourself and for those you’re trying to help.

Because when you keep giving without replenishing, you’re not being selfless, you’re being short-sighted.

One day, you’ll have nothing left to give, and the same system that drained you will move on to the next person with a paycheck.

Do You Send Money Out of Guilt or Genuine Care?

Many people don’t send money purely out of duty.

They send it to prove they’re doing well.

In our culture, success is measured not by peace of mind, but by how much you remit.

“If you’re truly doing well, why aren’t you helping more?”

That guilt-based obligation traps many in performative generosity, trying to look generous while quietly struggling.

Some take loans to send money.

Others skip meals to build houses they’ll rarely live in.

It’s not always love, sometimes, it’s pressure disguised as responsibility.

How Do the Wealthy Support Their Families Differently?

Wealthy people help their families too, but strategically.

They know real help isn’t about handing out cash; it’s about building capacity.

Instead of sending ₦20,000 every month, they might pay for skill training, fund a small business, or create opportunities that reduce dependency.

They separate care from cashflow, because one is emotional, the other is mathematical.

Meanwhile, the average earner gives out of guilt, fear, or love, without any structure or plan.

The wealthy think in terms of systems.

The average person thinks in terms of sentiment.

When Does Sending Money Become a Burden Instead of Help?

Sending money home isn’t wrong, it’s beautiful when done from choice, not pressure.

But when it becomes endless and expected, it breeds resentment.

Financially, you stagnate, constantly meeting needs but never building assets.

No savings… No investments... No plan.

Just endless transfers in the name of “family duty.”

And when a crisis hits, job loss, illness, relocation, you realize: no one has saved for you.

How Can You Help Without Hurting Yourself?

Instead of constant handouts, create structure and boundaries.

Send what’s reasonable, not what’s expected.

Be honest about your limits.

When you can, invest in long-term independence, not short-term survival.

If someone always needs help, maybe what they truly need is not another transfer, but a way to earn on their own.

Sometimes, the best help is empowerment, not emergency cash.

Is It Selfish to Put Yourself First Financially?

Not at all.

There’s a difference between selfishness and self-preservation.

It’s not selfish to prioritize stability before generosity, it’s strategic.

Because without stability, your generosity won’t last.

If you burn out financially, emotionally, or mentally, you become another dependent, not a provider.

That helps no one.

So What’s the Smarter Way Forward?

Sending money home is noble.

But doing it while sinking is tragic.

You don’t prove love by how much you give, you prove wisdom by how long you can keep giving.

Build first, then give.

Because real love is not about emptying yourself, it’s about creating enough abundance to lift everyone, including yourself.