MORE THAN MONEY

The Power of Remittances from Canada’s African Diaspora

By Tsion Berie

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An Afican extended Family

When we send money to our families in Africa, it’s not just about finances. It’s about connection. It’s a quiet way of saying, I’m still here with you, even if we’re living oceans apart. For many in the African diaspora in Canada, remittances are woven into our everyday lives. It’s not something we often talk about publicly, but it’s something we feel deeply.

The money we send often goes to things like school fees, rent, food, or medical bills. But it also represents so much more. It’s love in action. It’s the sense of responsibility we carry, knowing we have the chance to help. It’s the ache of leaving home and the hope of still being able to contribute to it.

In 2022, more than $53 billion was sent to sub-Saharan Africa from the global diaspora, and Canada quietly played a role in that. Though we might not have the largest numbers compared to the US or UK, the impact we make is significant. We come from different walks of life, students, caregivers, entrepreneurs, frontline workers—but many of us share this quiet rhythm of sending what we can, when we can.

It’s not always easy. The cost of sending money from Canada to African countries is still high, with fees that eat into already modest transfers. And with the rising cost of living here, especially in cities like Toronto, Calgary, or Vancouver, the pressure can be intense. Still, we find a way. Because it’s personal. Because we remember where we came from. Because someone once found a way to help us.

But there’s another side too. This money can be both a blessing and a burden for those receiving remittances. While it helps cover urgent needs, sometimes it unintentionally creates dependence. Families may pause job searches or delay local investments, expecting that help will continue to arrive from abroad. The emotional dynamic can also shift, where relationships revolve around money rather than mutual support.

We rarely talk about this part. The quiet stress. The unspoken expectations. The feeling of being torn between building a life here and holding up lives there.

At the same time, we see incredible examples of remittances being used creatively. Some of us have pooled resources to build schools, support small farms, or invest in health care initiatives back home. These stories show us what’s possible when we move beyond individual giving and think collectively.

Still, a question lingers. As we continue to give, sometimes from what little we have, are we creating lasting change, or simply keeping things afloat?

And if we are keeping things afloat, what would it take to change that?