The question of whether schooling in the UK and returning to Nigeria is a mistake has resurfaced online, following comments by Miss B (BlehisBack) challenging the growing narrative that studying in the UK is pointless if it does not lead to permanent relocation.

According to her, the real issue is not studying abroad itself, but the expectations attached to it. She argued that international education does not automatically have to be a migration pathway and that returning home after gaining global exposure should not be viewed as failure. In her view, problems only arise when people take on dollar- or pound-denominated loans and are then forced to repay them on a naira salary, creating a damaging currency mismatch. Outside of that, she maintained that fully funded scholarships remain a solid investment in skills, perspective, and national development.

Her position struck a chord with many who agreed that the stigma attached to returning home is largely self-imposed. Emma Nnana echoed this sentiment, stressing that global exposure can and should be used to build Nigeria, provided graduates are not trapped by foreign debt. For those on fully funded programmes, she described the experience as an investment rather than a loss.

Others, however, introduced a more complex reality. Noah Sulaimon, who studied abroad on a fully funded scholarship, noted that while returning home is not inherently bad, it raises difficult questions about what exactly people are returning to.

He asked whether meaningful jobs or structures still exist to absorb internationally trained graduates, pointing out that many now return only to circulate CVs in an increasingly tight labour market. Drawing a contrast, he observed how classmates from countries like China returned home immediately to clear opportunities, while others — particularly from Nigeria — are forced to extend their stay abroad simply to remain competitive.

The discussion also highlighted structural inequality. Noah referenced how children of political elites often return to Nigeria and walk straight into top-tier opportunities, while others must pursue additional qualifications abroad just to stay relevant.

In that context, both staying and returning are shaped less by ideology and more by circumstance.

From another angle, Wakaholic Nurse acknowledged that while fully funded scholarships are a win, the emotional and practical reality is that many people study in the UK with the intention of working there. Returning immediately after graduation can feel like an opportunity cut short, especially after years spent building networks and local experience. This tension is even more pronounced for programmes like Chevening, which explicitly require beneficiaries to return home.

Financial pressure featured prominently in the responses. Ayo pointed out that many students fund their studies with loans and begin repayment during their post-study visa period. After rent, taxes, and loan deductions, some are left with little savings, making a return to Nigeria financially daunting. In such cases, staying abroad longer becomes less about ambition and more about survival.

Several contributors addressed the elephant in the room: intention. Segun Are stated bluntly that the majority of people who choose the UK study route do so primarily as a relocation strategy, and there is nothing inherently wrong with that. The problem, he argued, is pretending otherwise. What matters most is having a realistic backup plan if sponsorship or long-term settlement does not materialise.

That realism was echoed by Damiete, who lamented how returning home has gradually been reframed as personal failure, despite being the norm in earlier decades. Abdul Rahmon reinforced this by noting that, for many, the study route is simply the most viable exit path from Nigeria, and that mindset often shapes decisions long before graduation.

Taken together, the conversation reveals a deeper issue beyond schooling abroad. It is about planning, expectations, and honesty — with oneself and with others. Studying in the UK can be a bridge to relocation, a tool for skills acquisition, or a temporary phase in a longer journey. None of these paths is inherently superior.

What remains clear is that returning to Nigeria is not the failure it is often portrayed to be, but it also cannot be romanticised in the absence of jobs, systems, and financial stability. In today’s reality, both staying and returning require strategy — and neither guarantees success on its own