Is The World Shutting Its Door To Nigeria?

 By Dakuku Peterside

For years, Nigerians have walked through the world with a quiet pride, knowing that their talent, resilience, and creativity were respected far beyond the country’s borders. Our people have built lives in faraway places, contributing as doctors, engineers, professors, artists, and entrepreneurs. 

*Tinubu and Akpabio 

From Silicon Valley to the lecture halls of Oxford, UK, and Philadelphia, US; from the oil rigs of Alberta to the studios of Nollywood, the Nigerian spirit has pushed boundaries and opened doors that seemed locked to others.

Our diaspora’s remittances, now estimated at over $20 billion annually, have been a vital source of foreign exchange and a lifeline for millions of families. Our cultural exports—music that fills arenas in London, novels that shape global discourse, fashion that turns heads in Paris—have ensured that even when our country stumbles, our people remind the world of what Nigeria can be.

Yet that assurance is now steadily eroding. Behind the headlines of visa denials, visa validity cuts, and new travel restrictions lies a deeper story about how our standing in the world is slipping. For too long, we have coasted on a narrative of potential without doing the difficult work of securing it. Our economy’s persistent underperformance, with GDP growth hovering around a meagre 2.3 per cent in 2024 despite our large population, leaves millions behind. Youth unemployment officially stands at over 53 per cent, driving the desperation that pushes so many to seek opportunities abroad.

Diplomatically, we have often undercut our interests by failing to show up where it matters. As of mid-2024, Nigeria still had vacant ambassadorial posts in key capitals like Washington D.C., Ottawa, and Riyadh—posts that should be filled by seasoned diplomats who can advocate for our people and negotiate fairer visa deals. The United States now caps most non-immigrant Nigerian visas at three months, single entry, compared to the ten-year multiple-entry visas routinely given to citizens from countries with stronger diplomatic ties. Thirty other African countries are affected but Nigeria stands out . In 2024 alone, the US denied nearly 60 per cent of B1/B2 visa applications from Nigeria, compared to an average global rejection rate of about 27 per cent.

And so, country after country has begun to raise its walls. The United States’ visa validity cut for Nigerians to three months for a single entry sends a message. The message is clear: “They do not trust Nigerians to stay longer, and they do not want Nigerians to put down roots”. Once a dream destination for young Nigerians looking to build careers, the UAE has repeatedly suspended visa streams and imposed ever-tighter background checks that make migration feel more like a lottery than a process. The UAE has suspended, reviewed and reinstated its visa policies multiple times in the last five years, citing fraud concerns and overstays. 

Canada, once an open door for our students and skilled workers, now demands higher proof-of-funds and rejects study applications at unprecedented rates, often with reasons that feel humiliatingly vague. In Canada, the rejection rate for Nigerian study permits has been staggering. In 2024, over 60 per cent of Nigerian study visa applications were rejected, even as Canada welcomed record numbers from other countries.

In response, Nigeria has tried to flex its limited leverage. We have suspended certain trade deals, especially those involving critical minerals like lithium that are increasingly in demand for global green-energy transitions. Officials issue strongly worded statements condemning “one-sided arrangements” that treat Nigeria as a problem to be managed rather than a partner to be respected. 

There is renewed talk of pivoting towards BRICS and other emerging partners—China, India, Brazil, and Russia—who might offer trade and investment without the heavy governance conditions attached by the West. But these moves will not carry real weight unless we address the reasons the West feels justified in raising its walls in the first place. Some see this as a healthy pivot towards greater foreign-policy independence. But there is a danger too—that this realignment becomes an excuse to ignore the deeper work we must do at home.

Underneath it all lies the same hard truth: insecurity, poor governance, and economic fragility. Our security crisis, from terrorism in the North-East to banditry in the North-West, makes headlines that foreign governments cannot ignore. Investors and immigration officers alike read the same reports of kidnappings, attacks, and communities living in fear. Foreign investors and foreign governments read these reports; they adjust their risk calculations accordingly. 

If we want to rebuild trust and reopen doors, the solution is not begging for visas or threatening boycotts. It is the hard, unglamorous work of restoring credibility. We must build an economy that truly works for our people, where opportunity does not depend on escaping to foreign shores. We must strengthen our security forces and our courts, so that law-abiding citizens are protected and criminals cannot tarnish our name. We must secure our communities so that terror attacks do not make global headlines week after week. We must fight corruption at every level so that we are seen as a nation that keeps its promises and uses its resources for the public good.

Rebuilding that trust is not about begging for open doors; it is about earning them through bold action, honest governance, and a clear signal that we will not settle for being seen as a risk to be contained. Only then can we stand before the world again with confidence, passports in hand, doors open not because of charity but because we have made ourselves welcome guests—partners, not problems, wherever we choose to go.

*Dr. Peterside is a commentator on public issues