Gịnị ka ị chere na Japa pụtara n'ezie maka Nigeria?
Japa bụ ihe karịrị naanị okwu ntakịrị nye m. Ọ bụ ikpe e kpere banyere usoro ọchịchị nke adaberela ịnye ọtụtụ ụmụ okorobịa anyị ndị kasị maa mma ezi ihe kwesịrị ime ka ha kwere na nrọ ha nwere ike mezu n'obodo ha. Nke ahụ bụ eziokwu dị n'azụ okwu ahụ, ọ bụkwa ya mere m ji ewere ihe ọ na-ekwu banyere obodo anyị n'ụzọ kpọrọ ihe.
A sụgharịrị azịza ndị dị na peeji a site na Bekee site na igwe, ọ bụkwa na onye nsụgharị elelebeghị ha.
Ebe nke a si abịa
Article on X Article by @atiku on X · https://x.com/atiku/status/2087552029358956958 2026-08-12 ›
We call it Japa, but it is more than a slang word. It is a verdict on a system that has failed to give many of its brightest young people sufficient reason to believe that their dreams can be realised at home.
Those who cannot or choose not to leave have learnt to survive through extraordinary ingenuity. You hustle. You trade. You drive. You code. You create. You farm. You build businesses from bedrooms and turn smartphones into offices and social-media pages into marketplaces.
In many cases, you have become your own power company, your own employer and your family's social-security system because the institutions that should support you simply do not work well enough.
Yet the remarkable thing about your generation is that, despite all these difficulties, you have refused to surrender.
You have built technology companies that have attracted global attention. You have taken Afrobeats around the world and helped Nollywood reach audiences far beyond our borders. You have created fashion brands, digital businesses, agricultural enterprises and an entire creative economy, often with very little institutional support.
