In the past week, a tweet went viral that sparked heated debate between diaspora communities and those living back home. The tweet said: "Nobody living and working in the UK is dashing you £500. I can guarantee you that one… LMAO, A whole £500?"

A response that hit just as hard: "You have a higher chance of a Nigerian in Nigeria dashing you that amount in naira equivalent than someone abroad."

This brings us to the question: Are people living at home in Nigeria really more generous than those in the diaspora?

If you have ever been in a family WhatsApp group or a friends' group chat, you know this conversation hits different. It touches on money, expectations, and relationships in ways that make people defensive on both sides.

The answer, as with most things involving money and family, is far more complex than a simple yes or no.

Why People Say Nigerians Abroad Are Less Generous With Money

The stereotype exists for a reason, even if it is not entirely fair.

Many people have noticed that once their friends or family members relocate abroad, the financial taps seem to tighten. That cousin who used to casually drop ₦50,000 for your birthday now sends ₦10,000 with a long explanation about bills.

Your friend in London who earns in pounds suddenly can't contribute as much to the aso-ebi as your friend who works in a good company back home.

The complaints are specific and recurring. "You're earning in dollars/pounds, you can't dash me small thing?" becomes a common refrain.

Whether it is contributing to a friend's wedding, helping with an emergency, or just the casual generosity that oils social relationships back home, diasporans often seem more calculated, more reluctant, more ‘stingy’.

Group chats buzz with side-eye when the person abroad, presumably earning "big money," gives less than expected. The perception morphes into the assumption: relocation equals wealth, wealth should equal generosity, but somehow the math isn't mathing.

Cost of Living Abroad: Why Diasporans Are More Careful With Money

However, what many people don’t know is that the "big salary" abroad disappears faster than ice cream in Lagos sun.

Let's break down a typical budget for someone earning £2,500 monthly in the UK (roughly ₦4.8 million at current rates). After tax and National Insurance, they are taking home about £2,000.

Rent for a modest one-bedroom flat could be about £1,200 or even more depending on the area. Let’s say council tax is about £150 and utilities (gas, electricity, water) about £150.

Transport could be about £200. Food could, maybe, about £250. That leaves about £50 for everything else, and we have not even mentioned student loans, visa renewal fees (about £1,100 every 2.5 years), or the money they are already sending home monthly.

But, in Nigeria, you might pay ₦500,000 for a decent flat in a good area. Abroad, that same amount barely covers two weeks of rent.

Every purchase requires mental conversion: "Is this worth three days of work?" The currency might be stronger, but so are the demands on it.

That £500 people expect as a casual dash? It represents nearly a week's worth of take-home pay after rent and bills. It is not that diasporans don't want to give; it is that their margin for generosity is squeezed by obligations most people back home never consider.

Why People Living in Nigeria May Dash More Money

Meanwhile, someone earning ₦500,000 monthly in Lagos operates in a completely different economic reality. Yes, the salary is lower in absolute terms, but so are the fixed costs.

They might live with family rent-free or pay ₦200,000 for accommodation.

There are no visa renewals, or foreign transaction fees, or council tax or TV license. Their money goes further in ways that matter for day-to-day generosity.

More importantly, they are embedded in the culture of dashing.

In Nigeria, generosity is not just being nice, it is social currency. You dash the security guard at Christmas. You settle the person who helped you. You contribute when your colleague's parent dies.

It is woven into daily interactions in ways that feel natural, expected, even obligatory. Someone living at home understands these unspoken rules because they are living them every day.

They know that ₦20,000 can solve a real problem. They see the immediate impact of their generosity because they are in the same economic ecosystem.

There is also less psychological distance. When your friend says "I need help," you understand exactly what that means in the local context.

You are not doing currency conversions or wondering if they have exhausted other options. The immediacy and intimacy of shared struggle often translates to more spontaneous generosity.

The Psychology of Money: Diaspora vs. Home Expectations

The psychology is where things get really complicated. Does ₦1 million feel different to someone at home than £500 feels to someone abroad? Absolutely.

To the person abroad, £500 is a significant chunk of their disposable income. To the person at home looking at the exchange rate, it's "just" £500, surely that is nothing to someone earning in pounds?

This perception gap creates tension. Diasporans feel they are being treated like ATMs, that people don't understand their real struggles.

"You're abroad, you have money" becomes an accusation that dismisses their reality. The guilt is real too. You want to help and maintain relationships but you also have your own financial pressures, and the requests never stop.

Meanwhile, people at home feel abandoned or forgotten. "You've changed since you traveled" is not just about money, it is about perceived values shifting.

The delicate balance between maintaining relationships and setting boundaries becomes bwhen you are navigating different currencies, different cost structures, and different expectations entirely.

Generosity Isn't About Location: What Really Matters

However, a fact that remains unchanged regardless of location or different economic structures is generosity is about the person. Some of the most generous people you will ever meet are in the diaspora, quietly supporting multiple family members, funding projects back home, and still finding ways to show up for friends.

Similarly, some people living in Nigeria earning good money are incredibly stingy, regardless of their capacity to give.

What matters more than location is the individual, personality, values, and relationships.

The diasporan sending ₦100,000 monthly to aging parents might not have extra for casual dashes, but they are being profoundly generous in ways that are not visible. The person at home who dashes ₦50,000 for your birthday might genuinely have more flexibility in their budget that month.

Bridging the Gap: How to Appreciate Generosity on Both Sides

The geography of generosity is less about maps and more about understanding. Whether you are in Lagos or London, Abuja or Atlanta, financial pressures are real, just differently configured. Instead of judging generosity by amounts or comparing currencies, perhaps we should appreciate support in whatever form it comes.

The person abroad who cannot dash ₦500,000 but sends voice notes of encouragement matters. The person at home who shows up physically when you need them matters.

Generosity has many currencies, and not all of them comes in cash. Understanding each other's reality, without stereotypes or assumptions, might be the most generous thing we can offer each other, regardless of where we call home.