Yesterday, a client of over 6 years—a woman who has become like a mother to me—called from the UK. At 68, she is slightly older than my biological mother.

Her first question was characteristic: “Which country in the world are you in now?” When I told her I was in Ghana but would soon visit the UK for 10 days for meetings, I turned the question back to her: “So you’re still in that country, and you won’t leave to come and enjoy yourself?”

Her story echoes that of countless Africans abroad. Having lived in Europe for over 30 years and held European citizenship for more than a decade, she has built two beautiful houses in Ghana—one in Accra, another in her hometown. Yet she remains convinced she needs to work “a little more” before she can return. It’s clear this isn’t about money but about the fear of the unknown—and a failure to imagine how fulfilling life could be in Ghana.

At her age, the window for truly enjoying retirement in Ghana has sailed per my philosophy. Like many, she’s trapped by the desire for more, when what she actually needs for a stress-free, decent life is already within her grasp.

The economics are clear. For those living abroad, accommodation costs—whether rent or mortgage—typically consume 70-90% of monthly income. If you own your home in Ghana outright, you’ve immediately eliminated that primary financial burden. Your expenses are reduced to utilities and food, both significantly cheaper than abroad.

Sustainable income streams don’t necessarily require complex local businesses:

A small provision shop at the front of your house can cover utilities and food

A 1-5 acre farm can provide both sustenance and income

A single taxi or Uber operation can maintain your household

Even with dependents, the math remains favourable. With accommodation costs removed, the remaining expenses—food, utilities, and reasonable education—become manageable.

Recently, I consulted with a Facebook follower in the USA planning to return to Ghana. His previous business venture here had cost him $50,000, leaving him understandably wary of local enterprises. Rather than focusing on Ghana-based businesses, I suggested a different perspective: money crosses borders, so why limit yourself to local income streams?

He owned two US properties—one personal, one rental. By converting his residence to a rental, he could generate $1,200 monthly from the US alone. With a house near Aburi already built, this income would comfortably sustain his family in Ghana.

I advised against investing his remaining $50,000 savings in Ghanaian businesses, suggesting instead purchasing another US rental property to increase his stateside income to approximately $1,500 monthly.

This approach provides security: if Ghana-based ventures succeed, wonderful; if they fail, the US income ensures stability while enjoying Ghana’s better weather and social life.

We need to reconsider how we measure wealth. If peace of mind is worth $10,000 monthly, then someone earning $500 in Ghana with true contentment is actually worth $10,500. Research consistently shows that social connection—abundant in African communities—is the leading factor in longevity, while loneliness kills faster than many diseases.

Many pay premium prices for brief escapes or holidays to sunny climates, yet hesitate to return to places where sunshine and genuine social connection are daily realities.

The diaspora’s purpose should be gathering resources abroad, then returning home to enjoy them. As the proverb goes, you don’t stay in the marketplace—you sell your goods, then return home to enjoy the proceeds with your people.

The ultimate question isn’t about accumulating more, but about having the courage to enjoy what you’ve already earned, in the place where your peace of mind will flourish.

Our people do not know when “enough is enough”, and therefore they are stuck.