Realities of coming back to Tanzania as a diaspora returnee

He had struggled to find his footing in Tanzania. His story, unsettling as it was, struck a chord with thousands of viewers and reopened a long-running conversation about the complex realities of returning home after years, and sometimes decades, abroad.

Over the years, hundreds of Tanzanians living in the diaspora have made the decision to return home permanently. For many, the initial joy of reunion, familiarity and belonging is intense.

Yet this euphoria can be short-lived if one does not have a carefully structured plan for reintegrating into a society they left behind long ago. The country they return to is often not the one they remember. Social integration can be unforgiving, especially for those who left as young adults or children and return as middle-aged professionals. Some manage to thrive, while others struggle profoundly, caught between nostalgia and reality.

“My plan is simple,” said Michael, a Tanzanian who moved to the United States on a tourist visa but stayed longer when job opportunities arose. “I want to build two houses back home. One will be for rental income, and the other will be for me. No more working—just drinking my beer and waiting for my tenant to pay rent.” Michael currently works at an African Caribbean farmers’ market in Stone Mountain, Atlanta.

He has no intention of making America his permanent home and already knows when he plans to make his exit. His strategy reflects a common aspiration among diaspora members: to return home with financial security, sustained by investments made while abroad.

However, for many, building back home is fraught with uncertainty. Stories abound of family disputes and betrayals, particularly when money sent for construction is diverted to other uses. “I sent money for years to my brothers to help me build a house on my plot,” said one Tanzanian who was eventually conned by his own relatives. “They kept sending me pictures of progress.

When I finally returned, I found the land empty. The photos were of someone else’s house.” Such experiences have left deep scars and have made many in the diaspora increasingly cautious about entrusting their investments to others, even close family.

Yet not all stories end in disappointment. Mr Togo Kirumbi, a haulage company owner, has lived in Atlanta for more than two decades but has always maintained close ties with Tanzania.

Over the years, he established a successful farming business back home and personally travels to Tanzania every year to monitor its progress. He plans to retire there when the time is right. This has been a long-held vision, and he has remained hands-on with all his ventures.

Although he has family members he trusts, he deliberately chose to remain directly involved in every aspect of his investments. In a context where many diaspora investors complain of mismanagement and misuse of funds, his approach has proven prudent.

Zakia Idd, a businesswoman based in Twangoma, Dar es Salaam, offers another perspective. She moved to Sweden in 2018 and spent more than five years there before returning home, having accomplished her goals. “You must be focused on what you want to achieve when you go abroad,” she advised.

Her primary objective was to construct apartments in Kigamboni, and she successfully leveraged her European network to realise that ambition.

Now back in Tanzania, she has reintegrated seamlessly. Apart from her mild frustration with the slower pace of life in Dar es Salaam, she is optimistic about her transition into the local business environment. She now divides her time between her apartment in the city and her farm in Dodoma, embodying a balance many returnees aspire to achieve.

For others, the greatest challenge lies in navigating Tanzania’s business environment. Registering a business can be a tedious process, complicated by shifting regulatory requirements, tax compliance expectations, and bureaucratic hurdles.

Even after overcoming these obstacles, returnees must grapple with the reality that business models which thrived in Western markets may not translate easily into the Tanzanian context. Consumer behaviour, purchasing power, and cultural expectations differ significantly. Numerous foreign-inspired ventures have collapsed simply because they misunderstood the local clientele.

This disconnect can lead to costly miscalculations. An idea that flourished in Europe or North America may, over time, prove unfeasible in Tanzania.

Recently, a major international ride-hailing platform exited the Tanzanian market after failing to gain traction. A goods delivery application modelled on Amazon met a similar fate.

These departures underscore the importance of deeply understanding how ‘home’ functions before committing to permanent relocation. From business practices to social customs, careful observation and adaptation are essential.

Even everyday interactions can reveal how profoundly habits and systems differ. One Tanzanian woman, visiting Dar es Salaam and contemplating her return, was startled when her bank card was declined at a fast-food restaurant in Sinza.

She had used the same card without incident in Mikocheni earlier that day. Both she and the waiter were confused, requiring an explanation that highlighted inconsistencies in payment infrastructure. While such misunderstandings may seem trivial in the context of a lunch bill, they can have far-reaching implications for larger investments.

Without a nuanced grasp of local business operations and customer expectations, even well-intentioned ventures may falter.

Some diaspora members have persevered, achieving notable success. Others, however, have grown deeply frustrated. “I developed an invention that converted sugarcane into fuel for machinery,” said a Tanzanian investor based in the US.

“After four years of seeking permits, endless back and forth, and repeatedly hitting a brick wall, we finally gave up.” Similarly, Tumaini Swai, a Moshi native and scientist in the US, faced enormous challenges when attempting to register a non-governmental organisation aimed at supporting disadvantaged children. Despite fulfilling legal requirements, she encountered prolonged delays and had to seek assistance from multiple officials. The experience tested her patience and resilience, revealing the stark contrast between legal frameworks and practical realities.

For Iverson Ilendeja, who spent many years in Atlanta, returning to Tanzania did little to alter his identity or lifestyle.

He retains a strong American accent and embraces cultural influences from his time abroad. From his love of hip-hop to the flashy car he drives, only his location has changed.

His connections with friends and family in the US remain strong, and his room is adorned with an American flag, a tribute to what he calls his second home.

For him, reintegration has meant blending two identities rather than abandoning one.

Not all returns, however, are voluntary or celebratory. David, whose real name has been withheld, was deported from the US more than two decades ago following a domestic disturbance incident with his ex-wife.

The consequences were devastating. He left behind a young son whom he has not seen since the boy was a toddler.

For years, he attempted to secure a visa to return, only to face repeated denials. After a decade of failed efforts, he resigned himself to building a new life in Dar es Salaam.

The transition was brutal. Overwhelmed by regret and grief, he turned to alcohol, which plunged him further into despair and poverty.

It took him nearly twenty years to let go of his American dream and reconcile himself with his circumstances. His son grew up without a father, burdened with unanswered questions. David has never had the chance to explain his absence, a conversation that may never occur.

Across Africa, similar stories abound. Many nations have welcomed back diaspora members, some driven by retirement, others by nostalgia or shifting global realities. Yet returnees require structured support systems to ease their transition.

Streamlined administrative processes, comprehensive data on diaspora populations, and targeted reintegration programmes could help governments harness the skills, capital and experience these individuals bring.

Equally vital is access to psychological support for those grappling with trauma, displacement, and identity crises.

Returning home is seldom a simple reversal of migration. It is a complex journey that demands emotional resilience, cultural sensitivity and strategic planning.

For Tanzania, the growing wave of returnees presents both an opportunity and a challenge. If properly supported, diaspora members can become powerful agents of development, innovation and social transformation.

Without such support, however, their dreams risk unraveling, leaving behind stories of regret, frustration and unfulfilled promise.