Between Climes: The Realities Of Migration And The Price Of Progress

Between Climes: The Realities of Migration and the Price of Progress

The developed are developed for themselves, and development itself demands a great deal from those who dare to chase it.

Those who migrate to developed lands from underdeveloped and developing regions often feel, in the marrow of their bones, the true weight of what it means to develop.

In developing climes, the culture is used to a particular way of thinking—a comfort in the familiar, like an old shoe that fits just right. Challenges here revolve around communal interests, and every decision is weighed on the scales of communal gain.

But in developed climes, the drivers of development are like engines roaring ahead—fueled by growth, advancement, and purposeful progress.

Those who “japa”—the ones who take that giant leap—have seen a glimmer of light, tasted a sliver of truth. They understand that getting comfortable in discomfort is a recipe for settling for less. But what it takes to “japa” is different from what it takes to stay put in the host country. If one isn’t firmly rooted in their beliefs, thoughts of home will eventually become the siren song that calls them back.

Those who do return never quite reach the internal development index that citizens of developed climes have long surpassed. Like water always finding its level, everyone eventually settles into the spaces that match their true state.

Most migrants aren’t driven by money alone. Every country has its rich and its poor. Migrants seek countries that mirror the lifestyle they crave, countries that already embody their dreams. Money, funding, and opportunities are often just afterthoughts. If a man doesn’t know what to do with something, he’ll misuse it or outright abuse it.

Do developed nations have migrants in mind?

If migrants show themselves willing to make meaningful sacrifices for their host nations, then yes—the host nations will reciprocate. But this interest in the host nation must be as sincere as the one a person would have in their own progress.

Otherwise, strip away the sentiments of hospitality and welcome, and host nations will still measure a migrant’s worth by their own development indexes and interests—and respond accordingly. That’s how systems stay alive and well, and the very visibility of these models is proof that their founding principles have stood the test of time.

Migration is perhaps the last option on a list of ways to live a great life. Knowing what you want to do with your life is likely the first—because that clarity can guide whether you even need to migrate.

In Africa, snow doesn’t fall; the sun, rain, and harmattan paint the seasons instead. Would a happy-go-lucky person save for months to travel just to see snow that Africa can’t offer? That would give the trip a purpose.

The standards in developed lands tower above those in the developing world—naturally so. While societal pressures can push someone to seek life abroad, the standard of living in the developed world is truly a world apart. If you divided the costs of a country’s standard of living by its population, developed countries would stand tall, while developing countries might buckle under the weight.

In Africa, we also dream of development—after all, who doesn’t like good things?—but the price to pay and the sacrifices to bear can be too much for many to shoulder. Those who find the courage to pay that price are the ones the world watches with admiration. In developed lands, these brave souls exist in multiples.

Development, like success, is a different ball game altogether. If there were a school of success, it would be for the already successful—teaching them how to manage and expand their successes, not for those who merely dream of it. Development studies are likewise for the already developed because it’s a whole new world to navigate.

Developed climes don’t operate by prayer alone. They know the place of prayer—like the kindergarten child who says grace over his meal not because he’s begging for provision but because the food is already there. It’s a prayer of thanksgiving, not of need.

In medicine, a wrong diagnosis—no matter how good the treatment—won’t cure the disease; it will only prolong the agony. So it is with migration. The belief that migration can solve every problem in the developing world is born of ignorance. The solution to every headache isn’t paracetamol.

The developed world has its own systems and lifestyle. Migration might open the door to a better life, but those doors also come with hidden costs—mental, emotional, and financial. Some migrants eventually accept life in the developed world for what it is—like a bittersweet pill to swallow. Ironically, if they’d accepted life in the developing world for what it was, they might have been better off by comparison.