“Stop Searching for Escape—Start Building Heaven: The Africa Journey of Mr. & Mrs. LaMont and Adilah Muhammad”
- Brother Levon X
- 6 days ago
- 4 min read
In this BLXCR editorial, we take a thoughtful look at a growing movement—people searching for a new place to call home. For many Black Americans, that search is leading them to Africa, not just out of curiosity, but out of a desire for peace, stability, and a different way of living. Africa, as they share, is beautiful, rich in culture, and full of opportunity. But like anywhere else in the world, it requires adjustment. It calls for humility, openness, and the willingness to embrace what is different without judgment. The peace many are searching for is not automatically found by changing location—it is built through mindset, preparation, and the ability to adapt.
In a powerful and transparent discussion, YouTube creators The Residential Tourists, Mr. and Mrs. LaMont D. Muhammad and Adilah Muhammad, offered a grounded perspective shaped by their lived experience in Rwanda. Their reflections challenge both the urgency and the illusion often attached to the idea of relocating to Africa.
What emerges from their dialogue is not a sales pitch—but a reality check.
They make it clear that Africa is not a magical escape hatch. It is not automatically “heaven,” nor is it a universal refuge waiting to absorb the frustrations of the diaspora. Instead, it is a vast and diverse continent—one that requires preparation, humility, and a willingness to adjust.
Sister Adilah Muhammad speaks candidly about the cultural shift. Even moving within the United States brought adjustment; relocating to Africa, she explains, is on an entirely different level. Language, customs, business practices, and social expectations all require a recalibration of mindset. What may initially feel unfamiliar or even frustrating is not dysfunction—it is difference. And that distinction becomes critical for anyone seeking peace abroad.
Brother LaMont Muhammad builds on that point, reframing the very definition of refuge. For him, refuge is not just about physical safety, but about mental, spiritual, and emotional freedom. If one cannot function, express, and grow within a society, then the environment—no matter how beautiful—can still feel restrictive.
This perspective cuts against a common narrative. Many approach Africa expecting relief from the pressures of Western life, only to encounter a new set of challenges. Systems operate differently. Business culture requires patience. Infrastructure may not mirror Western convenience. And perhaps most importantly, the psychological expectations carried into the experience can either make or break it.
Yet, within that reality, there is also something powerful.
The conversation highlights a shift from seeking “escape” to seeking “alignment.” Sister Adilah expresses that peace is no longer about finding a perfect place—it is about finding a place where one can function, live with dignity, and exist without constant pressure. In that sense, Africa offers something many are searching for: space to breathe, to reset, and to redefine what a good life actually looks like.
At the same time, Brother LaMont introduces a deeper layer of thought—one rooted in identity. If Black people are globally dispersed, then the idea of “returning” is both physical and philosophical. Africa becomes less about geography and more about consciousness. The question is no longer simply where we go, but how we think when we get there.
And this is where the conversation becomes transformative.
Western media has long shaped the image of Africa as a place of lack—poverty, instability, and limitation. But those narratives often ignore a broader truth: Africa is resource-rich, culturally vibrant, and filled with growing economies and modern cities. The same world that labels Africa as “developing” often depends on its resources to sustain itself.
At the same time, the discussion does not romanticize the continent. It acknowledges internal challenges, including remnants of colonial influence and structural inconsistencies. But rather than discouraging engagement, this honesty invites a more mature approach—one rooted in preparation, not perception.
A key takeaway from LaMont and Adilah’s experience is this: your outcome in Africa will largely depend on your foundation before you arrive. Those with savings, remote income, or retirement stability will have a vastly different experience than those attempting to rebuild from scratch. Financial preparedness, adaptability, and patience are not optional—they are essential.
So, is Africa a refuge?
The answer is layered.
For some, it will feel like peace. For others, it may feel like pressure. For many, it will be both at different times. But what it undeniably offers is an alternative—a chance to step outside of the systems that many feel trapped within and explore life through a different lens.
And perhaps that is the real message.
Africa is not a fantasy to escape into, nor a stereotype to dismiss. It is an option—one that deserves to be explored with open eyes and a clear mind. The diaspora does not need to be confined to one place, one system, or one narrative. As the conversation reminds us, heaven is not a location—it is a state of mind.
And wherever we go, we must bring that understanding with us.
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