Expat or Migrant? The Word Changes, the Work Doesn’t
Some professionals abroad are called expats. Africans doing the same work are called migrants.
The word changes. The work does not.
Stereotypes do not arrive as insults. They arrive as small, polite assumptions.
I have been asked if there are tall buildings where I come from. I have been praised for my English as if it were a magic trick. I have been followed in shops as if I had bad intentions.
The assumption is rarely shouted. It is whispered.
Then there is the bigger myth: that Africans move abroad only to escape, not to build careers.
The reality is different. Many of us move as expats — for jobs, for postgraduate studies, for international assignments. Engineers. Doctors. Consultants. Founders. Researchers. Creatives.
Yes, Afrobarometer finds that work and economic opportunity are the top reasons Africans consider moving. But “looking for work” is not the same as “looking for handouts.” It is what every ambitious professional does, in every country, on every continent.
Before I moved, I also carried my own myths about life abroad. That it would be easier. That everything would work. That my degree would carry the same weight it carried at home.
Some of it was true. A lot of it was not.
Living abroad taught me that “developed” does not mean “happy.” That loneliness is its own kind of poverty. That a neighbour who does not greet you is not always being rude — sometimes that is just Tuesday.
That community is not a default setting. It is a culture. And cultures can be lost.
I used to think people abroad were cold. Now I think many are trained in a different politeness — one that often mistakes distance for respect.
Home, when the world bothered to listen, taught that Africa is not a country. That our cities have skylines. That our middle class commutes and complains about traffic like everyone else. That the Africa stitched together from charity ads and crisis reporting is a caricature, not a continent.
The African diaspora abroad is not a wave of dependency. It is a workforce. A network. A talent pool.
We translate in both directions. Often without being asked. Rarely being thanked. We explain to colleagues that no, we did not grow up next to a lion. We explain to family that no, we are not rich — the rent is eating us alive.
It is exhausting. It is also, quietly, a form of expertise.
So here is the question that will not leave me alone: if you are an African professional abroad, what is the stereotype you are tired of carrying? And what is the one you had to drop yourself?