Every so often, someone raises the idea—usually with a touch of wistful optimism—that South Africa should try to lure back its skilled professionals who have emigrated. The idea tends to gather traction in business circles, in policy conversations, and even among ordinary citizens frustrated by the country’s current trajectory. But every time I see this suggestion, I find myself shaking my head—not because I’m against the idea in principle, but because I find it astonishingly out of touch with the realities that led these people to leave in the first place.
Let’s start here: very few people leave South Africa on a whim. Emigration is never a casual decision. For most, it’s the result of long deliberation, months—sometimes years—of weighing up what they can achieve here versus what might be possible abroad. And make no mistake: leaving isn’t easy. It’s an emotional, financial, and professional upheaval. Even those who eventually find success overseas often speak of the steep climb it took to get there.
I’ve never emigrated myself, but I have moved cities and lived away from the place I once called home for nearly 45 years. I know what it means to rebuild, to forge a new life, to adapt to different people and systems, and to remain accountable to yourself in a more competitive environment. I’ve met South Africans abroad. Some I knew before they left; others I met as they established lives elsewhere. Let me be frank—none of them have shown the slightest inclination to return. And I understand why.
South Africans leave mainly because they have something to offer—skills, ambition, drive—and they want a fair return for those efforts. This country, sadly, has not made it easy for all of its citizens to thrive. Some skilled professionals, particularly those in fields like medicine, engineering, or business, have been deliberately excluded from opportunities here. We all know examples. One man I know shut down a factory employing 450 people and left the country so that his daughter could pursue her medical studies abroad after facing insurmountable barriers locally.
That’s not a trivial decision. That’s not someone running away. That’s someone doing what they must for their family and future.
The truth is, South Africa has entrenched a complex system of race-based laws that, for all their intentions, end up excluding some citizens from fully participating in the economy and public institutions. This is not equality. This is not justice. It’s a bitter and demoralising experience for many. Layer onto that the relentless crime, corruption, and a sense of societal hostility, and it’s clear why some South Africans make the difficult decision to leave.
So when I hear someone say, “We should woo our skilled expats back,” I want to ask: back to what, exactly? Back to exclusion? Back to uncertainty? Back to fear?
Of course, there are some who do come back. Usually, it’s in their later years, often driven by a longing for home, for family, or perhaps a slower pace of life. South Africans are, for the most part, deeply attached to their country. But attachment isn’t enough when the day-to-day experience of living here is defined by insecurity—economic, physical, and psychological.
It’s not that I’m against the idea of return. It’s that I believe we owe it to people to be honest about what they’re returning to. Until we fix what pushed them out—until we stop punishing competence, stop weaponising race in the economy, and get serious about law and order—there is little reason for most of our skilled diaspora to even consider coming back.
No one wants to live like a ghost in their own country. And yet, that’s what many of our most capable citizens have felt like for years. So they left.
If we want them back, we need to fix the conditions that made them leave. Anything less is not just unrealistic—it’s insulting.
