The Nigerian experience is physical, emotional, and sometimes international. No one knows it better than our features on #TheAbroadLife, a series where we detail and explore Nigerian experiences while living abroad.
Saratu* (25) spent most of her life in Kaduna, trying to survive as a queer woman in a country that criminalises her identity. After years of hiding and dodging persecution, she knew she had to leave. In this story, she shares how she fled Nigeria, sought asylum in the UK, and is finally learning what it means to live freely.
Where do you currently live, and when did you leave Nigeria?
I live in the United Kingdom. I left Nigeria in 2024.
What inspired you to leave?
Nigeria didn’t really feel like home. At some point, as a young adult, you have to seriously think about your future, and mine wasn’t in Nigeria. I was studying English at Kaduna State University, but the environment wasn’t mentally conducive for me. It felt like I was on autopilot. I was putting in so much energy, and I wasn’t seeing any results.
How did you travel out?
I’ve always been into art, so I got admitted to study Art and Design in the UK. I went there on a student visa. Unfortunately, I didn’t finish the program. I dropped out to begin the asylum process.
What is the asylum process?
It’s a process where you ask the UK government for refuge because you can’t return to your country for safety reasons. You have to prove why going back would put you in danger, which I successfully did.
What was the process like?
While I was going through it, a friend introduced me to a legal representative who gave me free advice. They warned me that the asylum process usually takes a long time, and even after all that, your application might still be rejected. So it didn’t make sense to just sit around and gain nothing during that time.
While seeking asylum, you’re not allowed to work. So I decided to apply to another school to study Construction.
Why Construction?
It was free. Some high-level courses require tuition, but as long as you have the right to study, either as an asylum seeker or through your student visa, you’re eligible to enrol in any university offering free courses.
Certain fields automatically guarantee you a job once you study them. That’s usually in labour-intensive industries like care work or construction. It’s not like Nigeria, where you could go to a polytechnic and still struggle to find a job after graduating. Here, if you study courses that are always in demand, you’ll have jobs waiting for you once you finish. That’s what I wanted to do while waiting for my asylum decision.
So how did that go?
Thankfully, my asylum process was very quick. I applied in June 2024, had my interview in November, and was granted asylum in January 2025. That’s a very short time compared to others. I know some people who have been going through the process since 2019.
After I was granted asylum status, I dropped out of the construction course to find a job. There’s something called Universal Credit, where the government assists refugees, but it’s not enough. I had to find my own place to stay and earn money, so I left the course to work.
I’m working as a carer now. Hopefully, I’ll save enough to further my education in the future. Who knows?
You said your process was thankfully quick. Is it usually difficult?
Yes, the UK Home Office can be quite unpredictable. I know a lot of people who applied for asylum and didn’t get it. It feels random sometimes, so I can’t really say why I was granted refugee status and others weren’t.
Some people get denied, go to court, and still get rejected. Maybe it’s because they didn’t seek proper legal advice or didn’t know what to do. I’d say I had some grace, or maybe I was just lucky. Honestly, I can’t even advise anyone on how I did it, because I don’t fully understand it myself.
Do you know why other people got rejected or why it’s so difficult?
I think it’s because the UK government doesn’t want the world to think it’s easy to get asylum here. But I’ve noticed that they won’t refuse you if you know how to present your case properly.
I didn’t give them any reason to deny me. I think some people are careless with their cases. They don’t seek legal advice and treat it like a lottery. You have to be very intentional.
Could you give an example of something that would disqualify someone seeking asylum?
Some people aren’t honest or consistent. For example, lying about your age, when you arrived in the country, or claiming the UK is the only country you’ve been to. They’ll find out. It’s all about being truthful.
If you’ve been consistent in your case, you can be confident going into your main interview. That’s when you explain why you need refuge. You also have to write a personal statement, which is basically your life story.
They ask you questions based on that statement. They’re very intentional with how they ask and know how to catch you if you lie. It’s really all about being consistent.
Why were you eligible for asylum?
Well, Nigeria doesn’t accept gay people, and I’m queer. My activism and involvement in the queer community were actually the evidence that helped with my asylum application. Even before applying, I was already attending Pride events and queer social gatherings here in the UK.
Did you ever do things like that in Nigeria?
Yes, but in Nigeria, we had to hide. I used to attend social gatherings with my queer friends and a gay activism club. Even though it’s not allowed and extremely risky, we still found ways to connect. When we couldn’t meet in person, we’d do it online. Anything to feel connected to ourselves.
I hope this won’t be dragging up any trauma for you, but what was it like being queer in Nigeria?
It wasn’t easy. The constant need to hide. The sadness of not being able to express myself really got me down. I lived in fear — fear for my life, fear of my family finding out.
Being queer in Nigeria is not easy at all. It’s like you’re shouting and screaming, but nobody wants to hear you. The religious beliefs, the people who think being queer is a choice, and if you try to stand up to them and say they’re wrong, you’re putting your life in danger. They can report you, beat you, or worse. So you have to hide.
I knew I was in danger in Nigeria as a queer woman. I’ve been in situations so dangerous I wouldn’t be here today if I hadn’t run for my life. Sometimes, I have survivor’s guilt. I have friends who have died or gone missing.
So what’s it like living in the UK now that you’re settled?
“Settled” is a very big word. I wouldn’t say I’m settled yet but my day-to-day life now feels more relaxed. I don’t feel pressured. I feel freer. I feel lighter. I can dress how I want.
I’m very masculine-presenting, and growing up in Nigeria, walking down the street meant being stared at constantly. People here don’t stare. Everyone’s busy, chasing their own goals, trying to make money. Nobody has time to judge you. In Nigeria, I think a lot of people aren’t doing much, so they have time to be judgmental.
Here, there’s always support. If you really look, you’ll find someone to help you. It’s about finding people who understand your situation. And the support here doesn’t come with strings attached. In Nigeria, nobody helps you for free. But here, there’s opportunity for everyone, if you’re willing to search for it.
What was the biggest culture shock when you moved?
For me, the biggest culture shock was the smoking. It’s like everyone smokes here, whether it’s cigarettes or vapes. People even take smoking breaks at work.
Everyone’s just free to do what they want, without criticism or judgment. You can marry who you want. Nobody has time to judge you. Mental health is taken seriously here. They want people to be in a good mental state so they can do their work well.
Of course, some are still judgmental, but it’s frowned upon. Racism is frowned upon. Some people still do it, but it’s not culturally accepted. You can actually get sued for being racist.
Another shock was how there are no guns here. Even police officers don’t carry guns. They use tasers and batons.
What’s been your biggest highlight and lowlight since moving?
My biggest highlight was getting my papers. That has to be it. Like I said, some people have been here for years and still haven’t gotten theirs. It took me less than a year.
Another highlight was moving into my current place. I’ve stayed in so many uncomfortable places, but this one is nice. I also have a job I don’t hate. I actually like taking care of people.
As for lowlights, I’d say working as a warehouse operative. I almost died. It was a warehouse that stored chocolate and confectionery, and every shift I had to pick and move 4,000 boxes in 12 hours individually. Some of the boxes were huge and very heavy. You had to complete your 4,000 boxes or face penalties. And we were only allowed 70 minutes of break time.
I’m so sorry about that experience. Do you have any long-term plans now?
I’d like to get married. Although my job doesn’t give me much time to go out, move around, or maybe even find love, I’m still thinking about it.
I’d also like to get a better job, maybe after doing a short course or even getting a degree. At this point, I’m just open to anything. I don’t want to put pressure on myself or say, “By this particular time, I must have achieved this particular thing.” I’ve done that before, and it didn’t work out. I failed.
Any chances of coming back to Nigeria?
Now that I’ve gotten refugee status, I’m not allowed to go back to Nigeria for the next five years. After that, I’ll be eligible to apply for Indefinite Leave to Remain (ILR), which means I’ll be allowed to stay in the UK as long as I want. Once I have an ILR, I can apply for citizenship.
When I get citizenship, maybe I’ll visit Nigeria just to see family and friends. But I wouldn’t say I want to live there again.
How happy would you say you are on a scale of one to ten, and why?
I’d say eight. No — I’ll say nine, because I’ve tried. For my age and what I’ve achieved, I’ve really tried. So I’ll give myself a nine.
It’s not ten because there’s still more I want to do. Maybe it’s productivity guilt. But I’d say I’m very, very happy.
Do you want to share your Abroad Life story? Please reach out to me here. For new episodes of Abroad Life, check in every Friday at 12 PM (WAT).
