How Are Africans Coping With Black Tax From Abroad?

For many Africans, the idea of black tax isn’t written in law, but it’s deeply cultural. It’s the unspoken responsibility of providing financial support for parents, siblings, or even extended family once you start earning. If you’re “the one that made it,” you give back; it’s expected.

When you live abroad, that expectation doesn’t disappear. In fact, it often grows stronger. Relatives may assume you’re swimming in foreign currency, but in reality, you’re juggling bills, taxes, and sometimes even student debt. The exchange rate becomes your frenemy: good for family at home, tough on your own savings.

We spoke with five Africans living abroad to understand how they’re coping with black tax from abroad, balancing cultural duty with personal financial reality. Here’s what they shared.

1. Jeff, 29, Software Engineer, Atlanta

When I first moved to the US, I thought I’d have so much leftover money at the end of the month. I mean, dollar to naira sounded powerful. But then reality hit: rent is $1,600, health insurance is another $300, and don’t get me started on car payments and student loans.

My younger brother is in university back in Ghana, and I pay his upkeep every month. On good days, it feels rewarding, like I’m contributing to his future. On tough days, it feels like I’m drowning here while people think I’m swimming in cash. The hardest part is saying ‘no’ without sounding like I’ve changed. Sometimes, I just wish they understood that abroad money doesn’t fall from trees.

2. Bukky, 34, Nurse, London

My parents are retired civil servants, so most of their expenses come to me. Hospital bills, food, and sometimes even school fees for my cousin, whose parents are struggling.

When the naira first started falling, my £200 monthly transfers seemed like a lot. But now, with inflation and everything going up, it barely stretches. I’m constantly recalculating, constantly cutting back. The system here also eats your money, rent, taxes, transport.

The emotional side is even harder. There are days I just want to spoil myself with a holiday or save for a mortgage. But then the call comes: ‘Your uncle needs surgery,’ or ‘Your sister’s school fees are due.’ And suddenly, my plans vanish. That’s the weight of black tax. It’s not always about whether you can send; it’s about the guilt if you don’t.

3. Ngabo, 40, Entrepreneur, New York

At one point, it felt like every month brought a new ‘urgent’ demand. Cousins, uncles, family friends, all assuming because I was in New York, I had deep pockets. It pushed me into entrepreneurship. I needed more than a salary to cope.

Now, I run a logistics business alongside my regular job. I set a structure: every month, I send a fixed amount to my mum in Kigali. Beyond that, I politely decline. That structure saved me. If not, the pressure would have drained me completely.

The funny thing is, I don’t resent it anymore. Supporting my mum feels right. But supporting the entire village? That one is not sustainable. Abroad has taught me boundaries. Without them, you’ll just be a money machine, not a human being.”

4. Adaeze, 26, Graduate Student, Toronto

My family thinks because I’m in Canada, I must be living soft. They don’t see the tuition bills, the rent, the part-time jobs I juggle just to make ends meet.

When I send money, it’s usually small, just enough to say, ‘I haven’t forgotten you.’ But sometimes, the requests are unrealistic, like ‘Can you buy land for your dad?’ and I’m like, with which money, please?

The guilt is real. I want to support, but I also want to survive and set myself up for the future. Abroad teaches you to say no, but saying no to family never feels easy. You worry about being misunderstood or seen as selfish. That’s the hardest part of black tax abroad. It’s emotional before it’s financial.”

5. Chinedu, 36, Product Manager, Texas

Back in Lagos, I sometimes felt like black tax was a punishment. You work so hard, yet half of your salary is already spoken for before it lands. Moving to the US shifted my perspective.

Here, I see it as paying forward. My mum especially, she gave up a lot for me, so I don’t complain about sending money to her. But I draw the line at extended family. Abroad or not, people will always have needs, and if you don’t set boundaries, you’ll end up resenting them.

One thing I’ve learned is to automate it. Every month, I send a fixed sum through Accrue. No stress, no constant explanations. That way, they know what to expect, and I know how much I can budget. It’s not perfect, but it keeps the peace.

Five Steps to Cope With Black Tax From Abroad

So, how do you strike a balance? Here are five practical steps to handle black tax without losing yourself.

1. Set a Budget (Know Your Limits)

The first step is to decide how much of your monthly income you can realistically dedicate to family support. Without a budget, every new request feels urgent, and before you know it, you’re broke by mid-month.

For example, you might set aside 15% of your monthly income for family support. Once that money is used up, you don’t dip into your savings or rent money to cover extra demands. Think of it as a “family fund” within your budget. This way, you can give generously and protect your own financial health.

2. Prioritize Who You Support

Not every request is your responsibility. The truth is, black tax often grows because families see one person as the “abroad child” or “the successful one.” Suddenly, you’re responsible not only for your parents and siblings, but also for cousins, uncles, and even distant relatives.

It’s important to set priorities. Parents, siblings, and children should usually come first. Beyond that, ask yourself: Is this a genuine need or just a want? For instance, helping with medical bills or school fees may take precedence over funding someone’s new business idea. In creating a hierarchy, you reduce the emotional guilt that comes with saying no.

3. Communicate Clearly

Silence creates pressure. If your family doesn’t know your limits, they’ll assume you can always provide. Instead of waiting for requests, be proactive: tell them what you can give and when.

For example, you might say: “Every month, I’ll send $200 for household expenses. Please budget around that, because that’s what I can commit to consistently.” This reduces random urgent calls and makes everyone’s life easier.

It may feel awkward at first, but communication prevents resentment. Your family may not always understand, but clear expectations help avoid misunderstandings.

4. Automate Where Possible

One reason black tax feels overwhelming is the unpredictability, requests come at odd hours, sometimes with emotional weight (“Your uncle’s surgery is tomorrow!”). Automating payments helps you regain control.

With platforms like Accrue, you can set up scheduled payments directly to your family. They know when to expect money, and you stay within your budget. It also saves you from scrambling with exchange rates or last-minute transfers.

Automation creates consistency and prevents the mental load of constant negotiations.

5. Don’t Forget Yourself

Perhaps the most important step: don’t neglect your own future. Many Africans abroad find themselves sending so much money home that they can’t save for a down payment, emergency fund, or retirement.

Remember, you can’t pour from an empty cup. Your long-term ability to support your family depends on your own financial stability. Invest in yourself first. Supporting family is noble, but you can’t do it if you’re struggling yourself.

Final Thoughts

Settling black tax from abroad is rarely straightforward. It’s a balancing act, between love and survival, culture and independence, obligation and self-care.

For some Africans abroad, it feels like a burden. For others, it’s an honor. But for almost everyone, it comes with emotional weight. The good news is that with cross-border payment platforms like Accrue, the process of sending money is simpler, cheaper, and faster. What remains complicated is navigating the unspoken expectations that come with being the “abroad child.”

At the end of the day, black tax is more than money. It’s about identity, family, and the ties that bind us across oceans.