By: John S. Morlu II, CPA – America
So, you’re packing up your house in America.
Tired of the HOA threatening you about your trash bins.
Done with inflation, taxes, and tipping $2 for every glass of water.
You start saying to yourself:
“Why am I suffering in America when I can go back home, live like a king, and enjoy peace?”
You post one Facebook status:
“Next chapter. Africa, I’m coming home. It’s time to build my legacy.”
Within 10 minutes:
Your cousin from Kumasi says, “Big man returns!”
Your aunt in Freetown types, “We’ve been waiting for you!”
Even that classmate you haven’t heard from in 21 years drops a comment: “Glory to God. Welcome home boss man!”
You feel like a celebrity.
But let me be the last whisper of wisdom before you board that flight to Accra, Banjul, Lagos, Kigali, Nairobi, or Phnom Penh.
Because unless you’re planning to:
- Live like a Buddhist monk,
- Eat like a barefoot coconut-seller,
- Or age like a broke 72-year-old trying to stretch a $1,300 Social Security check across three countries…
You’re about to receive the smackdown of your life.
Developing Countries = Expensive as Hell (If You Stay Western)
In America, I spend around $400 a month outside of my household bills.
Groceries? Reasonable.
Internet? Fast.
Transportation? Manageable.
You can sip Dunkin’ and watch “The Price is Right” in peace.
But step into Accra, Nairobi, Banjul, or Phnom Penh with your “American lifestyle”—and suddenly, that $400 lasts less than 24 hours. Poof.
Why? Because everything is imported. And imported = expensive + taxed + corrupted + delayed + fake.
Real-Life Grocery Example: By the time you buy cereal, milk, and a few groceries, you could’ve flown back to Dulles and had brunch at Cracker Barrel.
Western Cravings Will Humble You
Feeling nostalgic? Want pizza like Papa John’s?
In Dar es Salaam, it’s $22 for a large—and they’ll still give you pineapple when you didn’t ask for it.
Sushi in Kigali? $60. And it tastes like tilapia pretending to be tuna.
Want fast food?
In Bangkok, a McDonald’s Big Mac meal costs $11—and it’s cold.
In Nairobi, KFC ran out of chicken. Three times. In one year. That’s not a joke—KFC ran out of chicken.
And don’t even dream of Panera Bread, Chick-fil-A, or Five Guys.
You’re getting “Sammy’s Chicken Hut” and “Best Fries Number One” served from a converted shipping container.
Home Maintenance: No Home Depot, Only Home Despair
In America, a handyman costs $100 and shows up with tools, manners, and a clipboard.
In Ghana or Gambia? Your plumber will:
- Arrive 3 days late
- Ask to borrow your tools
- Request “small transport money” upfront
- Fix it wrong
- Disappear
Example: A friend of mine in Monrovia paid $120 to fix a leaking toilet.
The plumber used duct tape. That toilet now runs 24/7 and sounds like a Boeing 737 preparing for takeoff.
Fun Fact: There’s a 1 in 3 chance your contractor will use leftover paint from a political campaign billboard.
Transportation: A Daily Rodeo
Don’t sell that Toyota Camry in America just yet—you’ll need it.
In most developing cities:
- Uber exists—but drivers will cancel 7 times before they arrive.
- Taxis? No meters. No seatbelts. No change.
- Public transport? In Lagos, a danfo bus seats 12 but carries 34.
In Manila, you might be hugging a stranger’s chicken.
In Nairobi, the matatu DJ is blasting reggae at 6AM like it’s Carnival. - Fuel prices?
- Gambia: $7/gallon
- Ghana: $6.80/gallon
- Liberia: $7.20/gallon
And it’s still half water.
Entertainment and Church? Two Sides of the Same Coin
In every neighborhood, two constants:
- A church with speakers that start blasting worship at 4:30AM
- A rooftop bar with DJ Spinall playing “Essence” till 3AM
It’s a war of decibels.
Saturday night: “Cash Out” by Black Sherif
Sunday morning: “Jehovah is Your Name”
Same block. Same people. Same volume.
In Addis Ababa, rooftop hookah lounges are filled with teenagers whose parents think they’re at youth fellowship.
In Kigali, every church is next to a beauty salon. Pray and perm—same trip.
Giveaways, Gifts, and Guilt
The ultimate poverty tax: everyone knows you came from abroad—so you must be rich.
Hospital bill? You’re paying.
Wedding dress? You’re sponsoring.
Rent? You’re responsible.
“Small help”? It never ends.
And if you dare say “no”?
“He’s wicked.”
“He has changed.”
“He forgot us.”
Example: A man in Banjul borrowed $500 from a returnee for his grandmother’s surgery.
Three days later, he posted a TikTok dancing at the beach: “God Did!”
You Take a Sh*t… and It Doesn’t Flush
In America, you flush the toilet. The water swirls, disappears, and life goes on.
In developing countries?
Flush #1: Nothing.
Flush #2: Bubbles.
Flush #3: Water rises. You panic.
You call the plumber.
He’s “on the way.” Meaning: he’s on a different job, in a different county, and won’t come for a week.
By Day 3, you’ve Googled “bucket flushing techniques,” started naming your buckets, and accepted your new lifestyle.
Your AC Dies? That’s a 2-Week Funeral
In America, HVAC comes next day.
In Accra or Dhaka?
Technician comes after 14 days.
Brings no tools.
Tells you it “needs a part from Dubai.”
Vanishes.
Meanwhile, your skin is melting. Mosquitoes are dancing on your forehead. And you’re asking Alexa for help—except there’s no Wi-Fi.
Pipe Leak? Might as Well Build an Indoor Pool
Water leaks from your ceiling.
You call the plumber (yes, again).
“I’ll be there in the morning.”
That morning doesn’t come for 13 days.
So you:
Place pots and pans everywhere like a jazz drummer.
Mop five times a day.
Smell mildew in your soul.
Begin bathing with bottled water and regrets.
Household Workers Will Rob You Silently, Daily, Professionally
You thought you’d live like a king. Maids. Drivers. Cleaners.
But:
Ovaltine? Gone.
Toothpaste? Finished.
Pizza leftovers? Missing.
Cologne? Lighter—but the gateman smells fantastic.
Your driver fills $3 gas, charges you $10, and uses your car to go visit his girlfriend.
All done with a smile and, “We are one family, Boss.”
Waiters Will Overcharge You—And Blame the Machine
Bill: $49. You know it should be $24.
Waiter says:
“POS machine broke. Manual system today.”
You pay. You leave. You cry.
Ask for itemized bill—they handwrite “Thank you, Sir” with a pencil and expect a tip.
And When You Go Broke? You Are Finished. Full Stop.
When you first land, you’re “the big man from America.”
People call you “Boss.”
Neighbors smile.
The pastor prays for your success.
Everyone wants to be around you.
But when you go broke?
Crickets.
No more invitations.
No more smiles.
No more respect.
Not even pity.
You’re now sitting in your rented house:
- The roof is leaking.
- The toilet still doesn’t flush.
- The AC is broken.
- There’s no light.
- Mosquitoes are celebrating.
You just had a mild stroke from stress.
You reach for your phone…
Nobody picks up.
Even the pastor who once anointed your forehead now ghosts you.
No matter how generous you were, once your wallet dries up — so do your relationships.
That cousin who called you “Boss”? Ghosted.
That smiling neighbor? Looks the other way.
That girl who used to cook for you? Left you for the Lebanese guy with a frozen food shop.
True Story:
A Nigerian-American returned to Lagos.
Ran out of money in two months.
Ended up borrowing from an Uber driver — the same guy who once called him “Big Man Abroad.”
Because in the tropics, no money = no relevance.
You don’t just go broke.
You become invisible.
They Will Drain You—Until You Are a Dry Sponge
Day by day, the financial bleeding begins.
You’re paying three times the price for food, fuel, internet, repairs, and security.
You’re sponsoring weddings you weren’t invited to.
You’re dropping “small change” to beggars every morning.
You’re covering your cousin’s exam fees, your uncle’s hospital bill, your neighbor’s landlord drama, and your friend’s broken generator — all in the same week.
You become:
- The Mobile ATM
- The Emergency Line
- The Community Wallet
And it never ends.
Because everyone assumes you’re rich.
But when you finally say “No”?
Suddenly:
- You’ve “changed”
- You’re “stingy”
- You’ve “forgotten your roots”
- “God will judge you.”
Then one day:
- Your account balance hits $45
- The plumber still hasn’t come
- Your roof starts leaking again
- You have heat rash and no light
- Your phone rings — and it’s another “urgent help” request
And that’s when it hits you — hard:
Stroke.
High blood pressure.
Heart palpitations.
Your American dream has collapsed in the tropics.
And when the money dries up? So do the visitors.
Even the guy who used to show up every Sunday for free beer no longer calls.
Now you sit in a plastic chair, in a house that smells like paint thinner and fried onions, wondering:
“How did I get here?”
Your Final America-to-Motherland Reality Checklist
Do you want to live like a true local?
No cheese. No Amazon. No AC. No pity parties.
Do you have foreign income to match your lifestyle?
Without dollars, your cedis, naira, or dalasi burn like paper.
Are you ready for cultural guilt and blackmail?
“We were here when you were in America…”
Can you live without Costco and Amazon?
Over there, everything is “cash and queue.”
Do you believe in deadlines and structure?
You might be the only one.
Are you mentally prepared to say “No” daily?
Or you’ll fund 23 people’s lives while yours crumbles.
Do you know how to flush a toilet with a bucket?
If not, don’t pack your bags.
Do you think discipline, ethics, and service delivery are universal?
Spoiler: They’re not.
Final Word: Run, But Don’t Sprint Off the Cliff
Returning home isn’t a flex. It’s a strategy.
The West is hard.
But developing countries? That’s PhD-level hardship in disguise.
So come with:
- A clear plan
- Backup funds
- Humility
And deep love for jollof, mosquitoes, and miracle healing crusades
Or stay in America, sip your Dunkin’, and enjoy your flushing toilet.
So, you’re packing up your house in USA, Western Europe or Canada.
Tired of the HOA threatening you about your trash bins.
Done with inflation, taxes, and tipping $2 for every glass of water.
You start saying to yourself:
Within 10 minutes, your cousin from Kumasi says, “Big man returns!”
Your aunt in Freetown types, “We’ve been waiting for you!”
Even that classmate you haven’t heard from in 21 years drops a comment: “Glory to God. Welcome home boss man!”
In USA, you flush the toilet. The water swirls, disappears, and life moves on.
In many developing countries?
- Flush attempt #1: Nothing.
- Flush attempt #2: Bubbling sound.
- Flush attempt #3: A backflow that says, “You dared?”
So you call a plumber. He says, “I’m on my way.”
That means he’s still at home, brushing his teeth, waiting for another client to pay him transport money before coming to yours.
You wait 1 week.
In that time:
The smell has developed its own personality.
You’ve moved into a guest bathroom.
You’ve Googled how to use a bucket as a flush system.
You’re suddenly more humble than you’ve ever been in your entire life.
In USA, your HVAC guy comes within 24 hours. Worst case? You suffer one sweaty night.
In Accra? Kampala? Dhaka?
Your split unit gives up. It’s 94 degrees. The fan sounds like a helicopter about to crash. You call the AC technician:
“Boss, no worry, I dey come.”
2 weeks later, he arrives—with one screwdriver and zero parts.
And guess what? He’ll charge you $80 just to tell you it needs a part that’s only available in Dubai.
A pipe bursts in your kitchen. You see water dripping from the ceiling. You call a plumber (again) and he says, “Small leak. I’ll pass by tomorrow.”
Tomorrow = next Friday.
So now:
You’re placing buckets under every corner of the roof.
Your living room smells like mildew and defeat.
And every visitor says, “Ah, is it raining in here?”
You begin to understand why every home in developing countries has at least five buckets—not for storage, but for survival.
You thought you’d live like a king with maids, cooks, drivers, cleaners?
Welcome to the club.
They start out loyal. Then:
Your Ovaltine disappears.
Your toothpaste runs out too fast.
Your leftover pizza vanishes.
Your cologne is 25% lighter—but no one smells fresher than the gateman.
One day, you realize your maid has two smartphones, designer sandals, and a better data plan than you.
And the driver? He’s charging you $10 per fuel run but only putting $3 in the tank.
You are being robbed slowly, respectfully, and with smiles.
You go to a nice restaurant.
You eat grilled chicken, rice, and drink pineapple juice. The bill arrives. It’s $49. You know it should be $24.
You ask, “Is this correct?”
Waiter responds:
“Ah boss, the POS machine broke. We’re doing manual entries.”
Translation: “You’re foreign, and we’ve added imaginary service fees, tax, fuel surcharge, and emotional labor.”
And don’t even ask for an itemized bill—it’s handwritten, in blue ink, with “Thank you, Sir” at the bottom.
Think harder before you make that move home.
Author: John S. Morlu II, CPA is the CEO and Chief Strategist of JS Morlu, leads a globally recognized public accounting and management consultancy firm. Under his visionary leadership, JS Morlu has become a pioneer in developing cutting-edge technologies across B2B, B2C, P2P, and B2G verticals. The firm’s groundbreaking innovations include AI-powered reconciliation software (ReckSoft.com) and advanced cloud accounting solutions (FinovatePro.com), setting new industry standards for efficiency, accuracy, and technological excellence.