After leaving a stable ₦700k/month job and spending ₦15 million to move to China, Ahmed*, 29, found himself living on a tiny stipend and sleeping in a bunk bed away from his wife. Now, he’s caught between the crushing regret of his drained savings and the relief of living in a country with working systems.

As Told To Boluwatife

The possibility of relocating to China first began taking root in my mind in late 2023.

The idea came from Clara*, a friend I met in 2016 at my NGO job. We’d remained close even after we both left the NGO. That year, I learnt she’d gotten married and moved to China to study. Clara sold me the dream. She talked about scholarships, monthly stipends for international students, and China’s status as the world’s manufacturing hub. 

“You’re literally studying for free and the stipends will cover your living expenses. You can also do business on the side,” she said. “You won’t even want to come back.”

I was doing okay for myself in Nigeria. I was an outlet manager for an oil and gas company. My salary was between ₦500k and ₦700k a month, depending on allowances. I had a car and lived in a good house. My life was stable. 

Still, I knew better than to imagine my future was secure in Nigeria. With all the ways Nigeria can happen to a person, it’s almost impossible not to look elsewhere. 

So, I bought the China dream. I sold the idea to my wife, and we started the process in 2024.

The Money Just Kept Piling Up

The first mistake I made was not researching enough before jumping headlong into the japa plan.

I didn’t have a budget because I didn’t know what I was getting into. All I knew was that my wife and I needed to secure graduate school admission to relocate. Clara would plug us to an agent, and everything would go smoothly.

It didn’t exactly happen like that.

The agency fees and application costs came in bits. “Pay this for the agency,” “Pay that for the school.” Because it didn’t come in a single lump sum, I didn’t realise how deep I was going until I was already neck-deep.

We paid about ₦3 million in agency fees and application costs. We had to apply to several schools to make sure my wife and I could attend the same university. A lot of time also went into trying to get the best scholarship offer available. 

In China, they have what you call “Type A” and “Type B” scholarships. The provisions of each scholarship differ by school, but they mostly offer full tuition, accommodation, and stipends. The typical difference between the types is the amount of monthly stipends they offer. 

“Type A” students received a monthly stipend of up to 2000 RMB (about ₦450k). “Type B” stipends were usually around 1000 RMB. Unfortunately, my wife and I got the “Type B” scholarship.

Still, Clara encouraged us to keep our minds open and continue with the process. Next came visa processing and document authentication, which took another ₦1 million. 

Even after admission and visas were sorted, we faced another delay and additional expense due to a name error on my documents. We couldn’t book flights early, and ended up paying almost ₦4 million for tickets. 

By the time we landed in China in September 2025, I had drained my savings. The whole process cost me roughly ₦15 million. This includes the ₦2 million cash we arrived in China with as an emergency fund.

The Reality Check

The perfect life we were promised hit a wall the moment we arrived.

First, the scholarship stipend wasn’t what we expected. Instead of the 1000 RMB we were promised, we learnt we’d only get 500 RMB. As if that wasn’t enough, Clara had told us that, in addition to the monthly stipend, our supervisors would also pay us an allowance for studying with them. 

So, we calculated that we’d get at least 500 RMB from our supervisors, bringing our total stipends to 1500 RMB each. We estimated that it would be enough to live comfortably, save and even send money home.

However, we got there and learnt that supervisors only paid medical students and laboratory research assistants. We were studying tourism management, so no money for us. We had to find a way to live on a 500 RMB monthly stipend.

Unfortunately, the “monthly” stipend didn’t come monthly. They didn’t pay us for the first three months. They have this centralised system where if one person in the whole international student group hasn’t finished their bank registration and other documentation, nobody gets paid.

During the admission acceptance process, we paid a refundable commitment fee of 2400 RMB per person. We’d been told we’d get the money back as soon as we resumed. But we didn’t. The money only came after three months, when we eventually got our first stipend.

That meant we had to stretch the ₦2 million we brought with us to China to the limit for the first three months. It wasn’t even up to ₦2 million because we spent about ₦1.2 million on medicals and residence permits upon arrival. 

Those first three months were tough. In addition to suddenly accepting that our financial projections had changed, we incurred a few unnecessary expenses because we were newbies. We initially took several taxi rides because we didn’t know how much cheaper buses were. 

The Chinese are also very smart people. Once they noticed we didn’t know the language and relied on Google Translate, they overcharged us for things like meals and SIM cards.

Another shocker has been the housing. Clara gets to stay with her husband and their baby. However, my school is different. I think it’s because they just started their own international student program. Even though we are a married couple, the school put us in separate dorms. 

So, during the day, my wife comes to my room, we cook together in the common kitchen, we eat, and then at night she returns to her own room. I’m a married man, but I’m sleeping in a bunk bed with four other men. I can’t afford to get an apartment because we aren’t allowed to work on a student visa. If they catch you, it could result in deportation.

It’s interesting how I expected that I’d be sending money home regularly. Instead, I was the one getting support from home for the first few months after I arrived. Things are a little better now. At least we’ve gotten the stipend. 

The only small problem is that they paid six months’ worth of stipends at once. So, instead of monthly, they pay every six months. We’ve had to live very frugally because if the stipend finishes before the next one comes in, we’d have to be fully dependent on support from home. Thankfully, we brought a lot of foodstuff from Nigeria, so that’s helping a bit.

When I think about all these things, I regret leaving everything and spending so much to come here. I call Clara almost every week to share my frustrations. I know she didn’t plan to intentionally give me wrong information. She was just acting on what she knew; I should have done my own thorough research. 

To be fair, I sometimes have some “Thank God for China” moments. 

My wife needed surgery a few weeks ago, and our student health insurance covered the entire cost. The hospital treated her so well, like an egg. I compared the cost of the surgery in Nigeria, and it would have cost ₦2.5 million. Plus, she wouldn’t have gotten that level of care.

It’s not just the hospital. I don’t fear for my life here. I recently heard about someone killing a whole family over inheritance in Kano. Here, I’ve never even seen a gun. My lecturer, a doctor, said she has never seen a real gun in her life except in movies. I can walk outside at 2:00 a.m. to buy something, and I don’t even look behind me. The data is unlimited and cheap. The light doesn’t go off.

What’s Next?

Right now, I’m still moving between regret and resignation. One day, I’m happy to be here; the next, I’m regretting my life choices. I’ve been here for four months. I know how much I would’ve made back in Nigeria. Instead, I’m living from hand to mouth, trying to survive. 

Thankfully, I still manage to send ₦30k home every month to my mum and my junior siblings, because I have to keep my word. Still, this wasn’t the life I hoped for.

The plan now is to find a way into business. I’m sending out quotations to people who want to buy things from China. If that clicks and I start making a profit, I’ll stay, maybe do a PhD to extend my visa, and find a way to move out of this dorm so I can live with my wife properly. If that doesn’t work, we’ll have to carry ourselves back to Nigeria.

China is full of opportunities, and I know there’s a chance I will make it here. I just have a lot of mixed feelings. I wouldn’t discourage anyone from coming here, just make sure you know the real cost. Arm yourself with the right information, and be prepared for anything.

*Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.

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