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.
Nneoma* (29) had a job, a car, and her own two-bedroom apartment in Enugu. She was saving up to open a school, but instead chose to use the money to pursue a Master’s degree abroad. In this story, she shares her experience of betrayal, heartbreak, and homelessness in the UK.
Where do you currently live, and when did you leave Nigeria?
I live in the UK, and I left Nigeria in 2023.
What inspired you to leave?
I had completed two degrees in Nigeria and was looking to open a preschool or crèche. I had always wanted to work in the educational sector. I had saved up a little money for it, but my market survey showed it wasn’t enough capital for what I wanted to do.
So, I decided to go abroad for a Master’s degree. I planned to work there for a few years, and then save enough to return to Nigeria and open the school.
Did you get a scholarship?
No. I paid my tuition and all other expenses.
I initially wanted to travel to Denmark, but a friend who lived in the UK told me it was cheaper there than in Denmark, so I chose the UK. But I ended up in a really dark place.
What happened?
I was paying for all my travel expenses and tuition myself so I didn’t have enough money for rent and I didn’t know anyone in the UK. I shared these concerns with my friend, Betty*, who encouraged me to choose the UK, and she offered to house me.
She said I could stay for three months so I would have time to find a job and then rent my own place. That was what really spurred me to leave Nigeria.
When I got there, she welcomed me really well. But I only stayed with her for about a week before her attitude towards me changed. It was really bad.
She told me she was married, which I hadn’t known before. She also said her husband would be coming to join her in the UK in two weeks’ time, so I needed to leave her house.
I was shocked. She hadn’t told me any of this when I was in Nigeria. I wouldn’t have even made the mistake of leaving Nigeria for the UK, where I didn’t know anybody except her.
She didn’t kick me out or tell me directly to leave, but the attitude she gave me made it clear.
What did you do?
I reached out to friends and family. My dad hadn’t supported my decision to leave Nigeria, so he wasn’t helping me financially. But my mum and a friend in Nigeria sent me ₦300,000 each, which I used to rent an apartment. But I still had an accommodation problem.
What was the problem?
My school and Betty’s apartment were in two different cities. While I was staying with Betty, I applied for jobs in her city and got a job as a carer. But I rented an apartment near my school with the money my mum and friend sent me.
The apartment was an eight-bedroom shared flat. We were all Nigerians and Ghanaians living there. But the town was actually more like a village, so there weren’t really any jobs there.
I had already used Betty’s postcode on my job application. I really needed the job because I needed money, so I didn’t tell them I no longer had accommodation in their city.
The job I got is what they call “domiciliary care.” That means instead of working in a care home, you go to the patients’ own houses to care for them.
It was really difficult jumping buses all day, and when the buses came late or I missed them, I had to walk or run. I also got a second job as a mail sorter. I worked the night shift there, sorting mail.
How did you manage going back and forth between the cities?
It was very difficult. The transportation costs were too expensive for my financial situation at the time. So I didn’t return to my apartment on the days I worked.
While I attended lectures, I stayed at my apartment from Monday to Thursday. On Thursday morning, after lectures, I made the journey to the city where I worked to start my caring shift at 2:00 p.m. I finished at 9:00 p.m., then headed to my second job as a mail sorter to start my shift there at 10:00 p.m.
My shift ended at 6:00 a.m., so I would run to the bus station to use the restroom there. I wash my armpits and my face, then rush to resume my caring shift at 7:00 a.m.
On the nights I didn’t have a night shift at my sorting job, I slept outside.
I’m so sorry to hear that! How did that happen?
There were many of us who did this. After work, we would go to the bus station and sleep on the long benches there. The sleep was barely enough, though, because the bus station closes at 12:00 a.m. and we were expected to leave by 11:50.
So we would all leave the bus station and head to this open space where people could set up tents and sleep. That was how we did it.
That must have been really difficult. You had no one to assist you?
Through some other Nigerians I met, I was introduced to Kola*. He lived in a different town, but it was only about a 25-minute drive from my work and he agreed to let me stay with him on the days I was working.
I only stayed with him for two days. The second day was a very horrible experience.
What happened?
He started pressuring me to have sex with him, saying he was giving me free shelter and I needed to pay him back. He said it was the least I could do to repay his kindness.
I refused, and he left the apartment that night to go to work. He had a night shift.
Around 2:00 a.m., he called my phone. By the time I got up to answer, it had stopped ringing. But then he sent me a text message. It read:
“I know you’re looking forward to something like this. Please take all your belongings and leave my apartment. You have been ungrateful to me. You can leave before I come back, or you can wait for me to drop you off at either bus or train station. I will not slave myself for someone who doesn’t have sympathy. Actually, just pack your stuff and leave right now. I do not want to see you in my house again.”
So I left his house to go sleep outside while it was snowing.
I’m sorry you had to go through that.
I was in a really dark place mentally. I felt alone and my ex-boyfriend only made things worse.
Oh! You were in a relationship?
Yes. I had a boyfriend, Peter*.
When we were living in Nigeria, he travelled often on business to places like Turkey, Indonesia, and other Asian countries. But he had never been to the UK. When I told him about my plan to travel, he said he would like to come with me.
Our relationship was pretty serious. My parents knew about us, and we had the whole thing planned out—how our lives would be in the UK. But his attitude changed almost instantly.
My visa came out first, so I went ahead. On the day I arrived in the UK, when I got to Betty’s place, I immediately went to have a shower. I missed his call while I was in the shower, but when I came out, I called him back straight away.
When he answered, he said, “Oh, you neva even reach UK, you don dey buga. How many times should I call you before you pick up my call?”
I was shocked, but I tried not to think too much of it. That was how the whole issue started, and I think it just escalated into hatred. I tried to understand that he was frustrated because his visa was denied and he had to reapply.
He started misbehaving—talking to me rudely, transferring his aggression—and I wasn’t really having it. I was already getting attitude from Betty, and now I was getting it from him too. It really affected our communication.
It was a hard time for me. I felt alone, still trying to adjust to this new environment in the UK. I didn’t have any emotional support. It was mentally draining. And I was asthmatic, so I kept having episodes. I had to go to the hospital.
I told my mum to let him know I was in the hospital. She did. He promised her he would call me back, but he didn’t. I told my mum to tell him that if he didn’t call me back, I would kill myself. It was that bad.
And even after hearing that, he didn’t call me.
Wow.
He knew I was sleeping outdoors. I told him about my situation and how the guys who offered help were asking for sexual favours. I didn’t directly ask him for money, but I dropped hints.
There was a time he said he would send me money for an Airbnb, but he never did. I’m a very shy person when it comes to things like that, so I couldn’t bring myself to remind him about the money he’d promised.
For about three months, we had no contact. Then, out of the blue, he called to say he’d finally gotten his visa and was coming to the UK.
When he arrived, we met. He apologised and offered to get an apartment for us. I told him I had already moved past waiting for his help. I said I would rather sleep outdoors in my tent. I told him I didn’t hold any ill will towards him, that I wished him well, but I didn’t want to be in a relationship with him anymore.
He went back to Nigeria about three months later. He said the UK didn’t suit him.
Could you compare your life in the UK with your life in Nigeria?
In Nigeria, I had a two-bedroom apartment, a car, and a job as a marketing manager for a real estate company in Enugu. My life wasn’t perfect, but it was okay. I had my friends around me, and I had a really stable, happy life.
And then when I got here, I started chasing after buses and sleeping outside. It really made me sad.
But at the moment, I feel my life here in the UK is better.
In next week’s episode of Abroad Life, we’ll find out how things turned around for the better for Nneoma.
Read the rest of Nneoma’s 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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