29/08/2025
**“Ghana Must Go”: The 1983 Mass Expulsion from Nigeria**
In the early 1980s, the once-thriving promise of Nigeria's oil boom began to dwindle. The country, once awash with petrodollars, found itself grappling with economic decline, soaring unemployment, and escalating crime rates. Amid this growing discontent, President Shehu Shagari's government looked toward the millions of undocumented immigrants who had settled in Nigeria during the boom years. Among these were over a million Ghanaians who had crossed the border in search of work, stability, and a better life.
On January 17, 1983, the Nigerian government issued a sweeping directive: all immigrants without proper documentation had just two weeks to leave the country. The order was sudden, harsh, and unyielding. It was triggered by a high-profile robbery at Vice President Alex Ekwueme's residence, where two suspects were rumored to be Ghanaian (though this claim was never fully verified). This incident, coupled with the economic slowdown, fueled growing resentment against foreigners and provided the government with a convenient scapegoat.
Overnight, highways and border crossings became congested with desperate families. Bus stations overflowed, and trucks were packed with men, women, and children, clinging to whatever possessions they could salvage. Lacking proper luggage, many turned to inexpensive, checkered plastic bags, sturdy enough to carry their belongings yet light enough to lug on their weary shoulders. These bags would become emblematic of the crisis, earning the unfortunate name “Ghana Must Go” — a phrase that came to symbolize forced migration, exile, and survival.
The scale of the expulsion was immense: over two million West African migrants were pushed out of Nigeria, with Ghanaians making up more than half. This included Togolese, Nigeriens, and Beninois. At the Aflao border crossing into Ghana alone, over 700,000 people flooded in within a matter of weeks, while others headed toward Benin and Togo. For many, the journey was just as harsh as the expulsion itself. At the Seme border with Benin and Aflao into Ghana, thousands found themselves stranded for days in overcrowded conditions. Initially, Ghana closed its borders, fearing it wouldn't be able to handle the sudden influx, leaving entire families trapped in a limbo between countries. Tragically, some did not survive the ordeal, succumbing in overloaded vehicles or succumbing to hunger and exhaustion.
Ironically, this mass expulsion occurred barely eight years after Nigeria had led the charge for the establishment of ECOWAS in 1975, which promised free movement of people across West Africa. The situation laid bare the fragility of regional solidarity when put to the test by economic hardship. It also mirrored history: in 1969, Ghana had expelled over 140,000 Nigerians under Prime Minister Kofi Abrefa Busia’s Aliens Compliance Order. The roles had now reversed, and Ghanaians found themselves on the receiving end of similar actions.
For Ghana, the timing was particularly disastrous. Flight Lieutenant Jerry Rawlings’ regime was already battling drought, bushfires, famine, and economic collapse. The sudden influx of returnees, many of whom had been key providers in Nigeria, further aggravated food shortages and unemployment. That same year, Ghana was compelled to undergo deeper economic reforms under the guidance of the International Monetary Fund and World Bank, leaving the returning migrants caught in a web of hardship and adjustment. Yet, in time, many of these deportees would play a crucial role in rebuilding Ghana, contributing to its social and economic revival in the decades that followed.
The international community, including the Organisation of African Unity (OAU), condemned Nigeria’s actions as inhumane, while Western observers raised alarms over the humanitarian impact. Inside Nigeria, some citizens defended the expulsion as a necessary measure to protect jobs and security, but many others—civil society groups, church leaders, and journalists—criticized the move, recognizing the suffering it caused. This episode also strained already tense relations between Nigeria and Ghana, exacerbated by ideological differences between Shagari’s civilian administration and Rawlings’ military regime.
Four decades later, the phrase “Ghana Must Go” endures not only as the name of a bag but also as a poignant reminder of a painful chapter in West African history. That checkered bag, once a symbol of humiliation, has since traveled the globe, embraced by migrant communities from Lagos to London, Accra to New York, and even reimagined by artists and fashion houses as a cultural icon. It speaks to the volatility of migration politics, the dangers of economic scapegoating, and how quickly neighbors can become strangers. Yet it also highlights resilience. Today, Nigeria and Ghana, bound by deep cultural, political, and sporting connections, have moved forward, proving that nations, much like individuals, can heal and rebuild.
