The Money That Moves the World Is Personal

Gina Mosquera Salazar is sitting in a café in Cuatro Caminos, in the heart of Madrid, explaining why she is like Coca-Cola. "Wherever I go, they know me," she says.

Gina has been living in Madrid for more than 25 years, working in home care for the city council, looking after the elderly and disabled. She describes the job the way she seems to do most things: with warmth, and without complaint. "In the end, they give me affection, I return it. They give me trust, I return it. I do everything: I'm a psychologist, a cleaner, a locksmith, a nurse. But I love my job, and I'm doing very well."

She left Guayaquil and immigrated to Spain for her daughter, Zoraida. She felt there was no other way to give her the future she deserved.

Money transfer by money transfer, Gina spent over two decades making good on that decision. While Zoraida remained in Ecuador, working towards an engineering degree, a master’s, and now law school, her mother sent her support. Gina bought Zoraida a car so she wouldn’t have to travel alone.

"I can also say that it has been 25 continuous years of sending money through Ria, and I feel satisfied to have made all those transfers. They've always arrived safely,” says Gina.

Twenty-five years. One mother. One daughter. One transfer at a time.

Now multiply her by 200 million.

Gina told us her story as part of The World We Share, Ria's series of portraits from the global migrant community.

What $685 Billion in Remittances Actually Looks Like

In 2024, migrants sent an estimated $685 billion back to low- and middle-income countries. That figure, confirmed by the World Bank, is larger than all foreign direct investment and all foreign aid to those same countries combined.

This isn't a new trend. Since 2015, remittances have been the single largest source of external financing for low- and middle-income countries. Over the past decade, they grew by 57%. Foreign direct investment, over that same period, fell by 41%.

Remittances kept moving because their logic is different. If they are investments, they're investments in family. If they are commitments, they're commitments to community. They are rooted in relationships and a lasting connection to home.

According to the World Bank, foreign direct investment collapsed by over 30% during COVID-19 while remittances dipped just 1.6% before recovering and accelerating. When economies contracted and jobs became precarious, migrants still sent money.

That resilience reflects something unusual about remittances. While remittances aren’t immune to economic pressure, they’re primarily driven by need: when circumstances worsen back home, families abroad try to send more.

Where It Goes

Unlike foreign aid or institutional investment, remittances often bypass governments and corporations. They largely go to families, and families decide how they're used.

The UN estimates that three quarters of all remittances cover immediate needs: food, medical bills, school fees, rent. Around half flows to rural communities, where remittances often supplement household income in ways that keep children in school. Research across 122 countries found consistent positive effects on enrollment at both primary and secondary levels, with girls showing the strongest gains at primary.

Much of the remaining quarter goes toward long-term goals: home improvements and local businesses that create local jobs. These are small, steady investments in a community’s future.

But remittances also carry what can't be quantified. Nancy Carlos left Tepetongo, Mexico for California over twelve years ago, answering the call to support a sick relative and eventually building a life she hadn't planned on. When a car crash took her mother, her sister, and three of her nieces, she was thousands of miles away. Grief-ridden, she was desperate to get home.

She made it back, but her words stay with us. "It gets you thinking," she said, "about people who have no way of going back to their families, of hugging them."

Nancy shared her story as part of The World We Share, Ria's series of portraits from the global migrant community.

Ria's own research confirms what the macro numbers don’t immediately convey. In The Currency of Caring, a study of migrant remittance behavior across four countries and more than 20 nationalities, the top motivations for sending money weren't financial. They were personal satisfaction (44%), peace of mind (42%), and a sense of family responsibility (39%). At the same time, nearly as many respondents reported guilt, pressure, and anxiety alongside those feelings. Pride and burden can coexist in the same transfer, just as they can in the same relationship.

Gina knows this math personally. "With the little I have earned, I have made a living so that my daughter can have a career and be somebody," she says. As she supports her daughter Zoraida, Gina rents an apartment and dreams of owning her own home someday. Nothing grand, just somewhere to sit, sleep, and eat. "Why do I want luxury?” she says. “I have to enjoy what I have, and with that, I am satisfied."

Remittances work differently than foreign aid. This financial system wasn’t driven by institutions, but by 200 million migrants deciding to send month after month.

The Infrastructure of Trust

Remittances don't just move through financial rails. They move through trust, the kind that's personal and accumulated and can take years to build.

Gina's 25 years of sending money aren't just a transaction record. They're a relationship. She remembers the people at the Ria store by name: Pilar, Francis, Klever, Brada, and Martina. "When I went to make my transfers, they treated me with affection, with kindness," she says. "If you are kind to the customer, the customer comes back. And they gave me that confidence to return." They became friends.

That's what remittances look like at the human level. It’s more than a transaction. It’s the face that knows your situation. It’s the app confirmation that the money arrived safely again.

For many senders, that trust isn't incidental. It's the whole point. When your paycheck is crossing an ocean to the people you care about, reliability matters. Speed matters. And whether you're standing at a counter or tapping a screen, confidence that your money will reach the right person matters most of all.

The Quiet System

Remittances have been the largest source of external financing for developing countries for nearly a decade. They have outpaced FDI, outpaced foreign aid, and proved more resilient than both through the major economic shocks of the past 25 years. Many people have never thought seriously about them.

Part of that is structural. Two hundred million senders don't issue quarterly reports. They show up, transfer what they can, and move on.

The numbers start to tell the story. $685 billion. 200 million senders. Fifty-seven percent growth. But no single sender experiences this as a $685 billion financial system.

The rest of the story is Gina. And Nancy. And the millions of others like them who decided, month after month, that the people they left behind were worth every transfer.

At Ria, we've understood this since 1987. We started as a small, immigrant-made business with one purpose: to help others stay connected to the people they loved. The network has grown since then to more than 600,000 locations across nearly 200 countries. But what makes it work hasn't changed. It's still Pilar, Francis, Klever, Brada, and Martina: the people at the counter who treated Gina with enough warmth that she kept coming back for more than 25 years.

That's what this system runs on.

Gina puts it her own way: "And God blesses you not for what you do, not for what you are, but for what you give."

She's still in Madrid sending money home.