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. 

The following is a collection of stories from queer Abroad Life subjects about leaving Nigeria for countries where they can live their truth unapologetically.

“I spent 20 playing the good boy just to escape Nigeria” — James*, 25, M

Growing up feminine in Nigeria meant constant bullying. I played the “good boy” role for two decades just so my dad would fund my education abroad. But right before I left for the UK in 2022, my world shattered. I was “kitoed” by homophobes who beat and blackmailed me, and the very next night, an acquaintance sexually assaulted me while I was frozen in trauma. My spirit was broken, but I forced myself onto that flight because staying meant death.

I am in Canada now, physically safe and thriving professionally. I’m currently looking for a therapist to help me unpack it all and learn how to actually live.

*James’ story was originally published on March 20, 2026. Read the full story here. 

“I can finally come out to my homophobic parents” — Tope*, 33, F

I had a comfortable life in Nigeria, earning ₦35 million working in oil and gas. But I also knew I couldn’t navigate Nigeria’s toxic, secretive dating scene forever—having to be with women who were also with men as “cover.” I moved to the US in 2022 and completely started over.

Today, I am married to an incredible woman whose family has welcomed me with open arms. My super-religious parents are very homophobic and ask me about a husband whenever I call. It is heartbreaking, but the absolute safety of my marriage has given me the strength to finally come out to them next year. I am done hiding.

*Tope’s story was originally published on November 21, 2025. Read the full story here.

“I was bullied for being effeminate in Nigeria, but my partner’s family adopted me as their own” — Peter*, 28, M

In Nigeria, I was constantly bullied and called female names because of my appearance and sexuality. I finally escaped to the UK in 2023, but my first year here was pure survival mode, working brutal hours at multiple jobs.

Everything shifted when I met my partner on a dating app. Moving abroad with zero family is a quick route to depression, but his family completely adopted me as their own. For the first time, I have a safe space to cry, vent, and completely heal.

*Peter’s story was originally published on March 20, 2026. Read the full story here.

“Hollywood completely lied to me about how free queer people are in America” — Gabriel*, 31, M

I bolted to the US in 2021 for graduate school, desperate to live openly away from my homophobic family. But the glorious, rainbow-coloured freedom we always saw in Hollywood movies turned out to be a massive lie. Landing in a conservative “Red State”, I was hit with a harsh mix of homophobia and racism.

Even worse, the American queer community turned out to be incredibly toxic and vain. Because I am an effeminate immigrant, I am either treated with open disdain or heavily fetishised on dating apps by people who treat my nationality like an item on their checklist. Life here has been painfully lonely, but I’m still looking for a loving, monogamous relationship.

*Gabriel’s story was originally published on March 20, 2026. Read the full story here.

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“I fled Nigeria to save my life, and my queer activism became my ticket to asylum” — Saratu*, 25, F

Living in Kaduna as a masculine-presenting queer woman meant being trapped in constant fear. I had to hide from my family and society, and I saw friends get killed or go missing. In 2024, I managed to get to the UK on a student visa and then applied for asylum.

Thanks to the evidence of my underground activism in Nigeria, my refugee status was granted. Life feels so much lighter now. The absolute best thing about the UK is the complete freedom. I can walk down the street looking as masculine as I want, and nobody stares or judges me because everyone is too busy chasing their own goals.

*Saratu’s story was originally published on March 20, 2026. Read the full story here.

“I married a gay man just to escape my deeply religious family” — Fathia*, 31, F

Where I’m from in northern Nigeria, you aren’t allowed to move out of your parents’ house until you get married. For over 20 years, my life was an exhausting acting gig because I was agnostic and queer, living with an extremely religious Muslim family. When the pressure to marry became unbearable, I entered a lavender marriage with a gay Nigerian man living in Canada.

We agreed to get married to satisfy our families while living completely separate lives. Our parents happily swallowed the bait, and I landed in Canada in 2023. Settling in brought deep isolation and a rough job market, but I’ve made great friends, and I’m dating someone now. I finally get to experience the independent adulthood that most northern Nigerian girls are completely denied.

*Fathia’s story was originally published on March 20, 2026. Read the full story here.

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).

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