Across Africa, many villages have successful sons and daughters living abroad who collectively send billions of dollars home every year — more than $100 billion last year alone according to World Bank Data. Yet it is not uncommon to find beautiful homes sitting beside unpaved roads, unreliable water systems, struggling clinics, and weak local economies.

Part of the explanation is simple. Most remittances go toward immediate needs like food, school fees, healthcare, and family support. Of the money that remains, much is invested in private assets such as homes and land rather than shared infrastructure.

Yet there are examples of what is possible.

Julius Mwale, a Kenyan who migrated to New York, returned home and spent more than a decade building what he calls a Medical and Technology City in Kakamega, Western Kenya. Roads where there were footpaths. Solar streetlights where there was darkness. A hospital, power plant, businesses, and jobs. The community owns 80% of the land, and local residents play key roles in operating the city.

When asked about the biggest challenge, his answer wasn’t money. It was getting the community aligned around the vision.

There are other examples too. Rwanda’s Umuganda has mobilized citizens to build and maintain infrastructure through collective action. Igbo town unions in Nigeria have funded schools, roads, and scholarships for generations.

Which raises a bigger question.

If the wealth, talent, and connection to the continent already exist, why do diaspora communities come together so effectively for weddings, funerals, and celebrations, but rarely around long-term development projects?

What would it take for a village, family network, or diaspora community to organize around a shared vision for the future?

What stops a village chief from calling that meeting? What stops a diaspora cultural group that raises money for funerals from ever discussing a development plan instead?

Let’s Talk About It