Beyond the Remittance Tax: What the “One Big Beautiful Bill” Really Means for African Diaspora Communities
What Is the Reconciliation Bill?
The U.S. reconciliation bill, also known as the “One Big Beautiful Bill”, is a special budget tool that allows Congress to make changes to spending, revenues, and the federal deficit with a simple majority vote. The current version recently passed in the House and now sits in the Senate. While the bill includes a wide range of provisions, much of the discussion in diaspora communities has focused on the bill’s proposed 3.5% remittance tax, down from an initial 5%.
Why the Remittance Tax Has People Talking
The focus is understandable. In 2023, global remittances, money sent by people in diaspora communities to their countries of origin, were $857 billion. Of that, $100 billion was sent to the African continent, exceeding aid and foreign direct investment combined. While U.S. citizens would be exempt from the tax, they are not the only ones sending money home. Permanent residents, visa holders, asylum seekers, refugees, and undocumented people also send remittances that serve as lifelines to families and communities. The proposed tax could have serious economic consequences, not only for major remittance-receiving countries like India, Mexico, and China, but also for African nations such as Nigeria, the largest recipient of remittances in Africa, and smaller countries like Liberia and The Gambia, where remittances are roughly 25% of Gross National Income.
But There’s More to the Bill
However, reducing the conversation to remittances alone overlooks other deeply troubling provisions in the bill that directly threaten diaspora communities. This includes:
Cuts to Health Care: The Congressional Budget Office has estimated that 10.9 million people would lose healthcare coverage if the bill is passed. It also penalizes states that use their own funds to provide health coverage to undocumented residents by cutting their Medicaid funding.
Expanded Immigration Detention: The bill allocates $45 billion to build new immigration detention centers, including family detention centers that would house children. This is 13 times ICE’s current detention budget and would expand capacity to detain up to 125,000 people nearly matching the size of the entire federal prison population.
New Restrictive Fees: For the first time, a $1,000 fee would be introduced for asylum applications, alongside a $550 fee for work authorization. Additionally, new fees are also proposed for those applying under humanitarian parole such as Temporary Protected Status and to register for the Diversity Visa (DV) Program. The implications for African migrants are especially significant. Nearly 30% of countries currently designated for Temporary Protected Status (TPS) are in Africa, and since its inception, the Diversity Visa Program has brought more immigrants from Africa than any other region.
These provisions are part of a broader strategy to create a hostile environment for immigrants and deter migration. Beyond this bill we’ve seen student visas paused, U.S. citizens and legal residents detained by ICE, the suspension of the US refugee program, renewed efforts to end birthright citizenship, and a travel ban with African countries comprising more than 50% of the banned countries.
What “Remittances for Development” Leaves Out
It is within this climate that we are witnessing a rise in “remittances for development” rhetoric, calls to “leverage” or “harness” diaspora funds for more “productive use,” particularly as a solution for aid cuts. However, this rhetoric ignores the full realities of people in diaspora communities. Diasporas have proven that we will do what is necessary to send funds home, but it can come at a cost to our well-being that should not be ignored.
For diaspora engagement to be effective, it must take a holistic approach that accounts not only for what diasporas do, but the conditions in which we do it. Understanding the context in which remittances and other forms of financial and non-financial engagement are sent is essential. A more grounded, context-aware strategy would result in stronger policies, more meaningful programs, and more authentic relationships between institutions and diaspora communities.
So how do we center holistic diaspora engagement?
Advocacy: If you’re in the U.S., call your representatives. Let them know this bill and the broader immigration policy landscape harms the very communities you're asking to give more. If you’re outside the U.S., pay attention to what’s happening where you are. Anti-immigrant sentiments are rising globally, impacting African diaspora communities around the world. Changes to the UK immigration policy and the collapse of the Dutch government over migration policy are evidence of this.
Support grassroots organizations: Organizations such as The Nigerian Center, African Communities Together, and BAJI are doing critical work to protect and uplift Black and African migrants. Support them through donating, volunteering, and amplifying their work on social media.
Demand migrant protection from institutions that benefit from diaspora engagement: Institutions that claim to value diaspora engagement must make migrant protection a core principle of their diaspora engagement strategies. African governments that encourage their diasporas to remit, invest, and return must also fight for their rights abroad, including challenging harmful immigration policies in host countries. Multilateral institutions, development agencies, and donors must embed migrant safety, legal access, and well-being into every diaspora-focused strategy or funding program. Countries that want to partner with Africa through trade in a “post-aid” world must align their immigration policies with their public praise of diaspora contributions. That means providing healthcare, fair immigration processes, and clear, equitable paths to residency and citizenship.
When diaspora communities are able to thrive, not just survive, we can contribute in deeper, more sustainable ways that do not harm our well-being. But that requires seeing us fully, not just as sources of money, but as people navigating complex lives shaped by immigration policy, racial injustice, and economic inequality.