Distance doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder. Sometimes, it stretches friendships until they snap, and everyone chooses to ply their own lane.
Ahead of International Friendship Day, we asked six Nigerians living abroad about the fights and uncomfortable shifts that cost them some of their closest friendships back home.
“I cut him off because his updates felt like competition” — Hassan*, 31, UK
When Hassan* moved to the UK through the care worker route, he assumed his hardest adjustment would be settling into a new country. He didn’t realise friendships from home would come with unexpected pressure.
“In the beginning, I appreciated the calls from my guy. It felt good to know someone was checking on me. But then I started noticing the tone of our conversations. It went from ‘how’s it going’ to unsolicited updates about how much he was winning in Nigeria.
I’d tell him about my exhausting 12-hour shifts, and he’d cut in with, ‘My bro, I just got my second car, ’ or ‘I just did XYZ. ’ It became every conversation.
I started dreading his calls. It was like I had to prove I wasn’t suffering abroad or justify my decision to leave. It got to a point where my chest would tighten anytime I saw his name pop up on WhatsApp.
I slowly stopped responding, then stopped picking up calls altogether. I didn’t announce anything, but the friendship died a natural death. Life is already hard enough here. I can’t burden myself with someone’s constant comparison.”
“We swore we wouldn’t drift, but I ended up feeling like the clingy one” — Chidera*, 28, UK
Before relocating, Chidera* and her closest friend always ranted about people who forgot their friends after moving abroad. But when it was her turn to leave, the reality hit different.
“Before I moved, we always promised each other we’d never become those friends who lost touch. She always used to say, ‘People abroad think we want to beg them for money.’ I always swore I’d never be that person who made my friends feel that way.
So when I relocated, I went out of my way to call, send voice notes, and gist. I thought we were keeping things the same. Then I noticed something — she’d respond late or not at all and never reach out first.
I overlooked it until I saw one of her tweets saying, ‘I’m not calling anybody abroad, I don’t want them to think I’m begging.’ I called her out on it, and she laughed it off.
After a while, it just didn’t make sense anymore. I was carrying the friendship alone. I stopped reaching out, and naturally, we just stopped talking. Sometimes I think about her and miss our friendship, but it hurts knowing I was the only one fighting to keep it alive.”
“Helping with my errands soured our friendship” — Hadiza*, 38, U.S
Before moving to the US, Hadiza* had multiple low-key projects running in Nigeria, and she assumed her best friend would be her go-to person for on-ground support. She didn’t realise that the dynamic would end their friendship.
“Before I left, I had two small businesses and a land project I was handling back home. My family didn’t know the full scope because… you know how extended families can be. But my best friend did. She always said, ‘Anything you need, I’ve got you.’
At first, it was fine. She’d help run errands, do site visits, and even supervise some of my vendors. But with time, I started feeling a slight resistance. I’d ask for a quick video update, and she’d act like I was stressing her out. Yet, when it was her idea, she’d do it excitedly.
One day, I asked her to do a simple bank run for me, but she didn’t respond until late at night. She said, ‘I’m not your PA o, ‘ which made me feel bad because I always sent money for transportation or lunch; I never asked for freebies.
I didn’t confront her; I just quietly found other people to outsource to. That’s when she got offended and accused me of moving funny. I didn’t have the energy to explain because I knew it would turn into a bigger fight, so we stopped talking.
Looking back, I get it; no adult wants to feel like an errand person. But it still stings that she didn’t have the emotional maturity to communicate before letting resentment build. Sometimes, I wonder if I should’ve handled it better, but then I think: why can’t friendships hold space for helping each other without bruised egos?”
“I lost a friendship because my friend felt entitled to my salary” — Ifunanya*, 27, Canada
Ifunanya had always been the ‘big sister’ in her friend group. But after relocating, one friend took it too far.
“I moved abroad for my master’s and stayed back after getting a job. One of my close friends back home started expecting me to handle her financial problems just because I was earning well. It started with little things, ‘help me sort this bill’, ‘buy me this wig and send it with someone coming home’. I indulged it at first because I genuinely cared about her.
But it soon became an entitlement. I’d wake up to a credit alert request without even a ‘good morning.’ She’d call and have a financial request that had to be handled urgently.
The last straw was when she called me stingy for refusing to lend her money for a phone. It wasn’t a loan she planned to pay back either. I told her to stop seeing me as an ATM, and she flipped, saying I’d changed since I left. I didn’t even argue. I blocked her everywhere that same day.”
“Distance exposed the one-sidedness of our friendship” — Emeka*, 41, U.S
For Emeka*, leaving Nigeria forced him to confront something he’d always ignored: his friendship had been one-sided all along.
“I moved to the US six years ago and thought nothing would change with my best friend. But when the calls reduced, I didn’t take it personally. Life gets busy, and everyone has enough on their plates.
But then, I thought about it and realised I always called and checked in. When I decided to stop and see if he’d call first, it took three months before I heard from him, and that was because he needed help applying for something.
I confronted him about it, and he said I should be the one checking on people back home more. That was the moment I realised the friendship wasn’t balanced. I stopped doing the heavy lifting, and naturally, things fizzled. We’ve not spoken in almost a year. I miss the friendship, but we’ll all be fine.”
“That alumni group comment told me everything I needed to know” — Victor*, 31, UK
Victor* didn’t officially end the friendship, but after one comment in his secondary school alumni group, he knew it was time to step back.
“I relocated to the UK on the care worker route in 2022. I’ve always tried to stay connected, especially with my secondary school mates. We had this lively WhatsApp alumni group where we’d gist, banter, and occasionally check in on each other.
One random afternoon, we were doing our usual back-and-forth about life and career updates. Then, my friend made a random jab. Something like, ‘At least we no go dey pack shit abroad.’
I laughed it off in the moment, but it stayed with me. I never hid my reality from my friends — life abroad can be tough. But that comment was just weird. It felt like a shade, like he was trying to say something he’d always wanted to.
I didn’t reply because I didn’t want drama, but it told me everything I needed to know about how he viewed me. People talk about how folks abroad switch up, but people back home can be equally weird. It’s like because you’re not flaunting success the way they expect, they see you as beneath them.
I stayed in the group, but I slowly disengaged. I don’t message him anymore, and I don’t share updates like I used to. I didn’t need to cut him off; I just realised not everyone deserves access to you, especially people who try to mock you under the guise of ‘banter’.”
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.
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