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  • 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. 

    After travelling through 35 countries, Stephanie (31) shares how slow, intentional travel reshaped her outlook, opened global doors, and led her to build a new life in Canada.

    Where do you currently live, and when did you leave Nigeria?

    I currently live in Canada. I left Nigeria permanently two years ago, but my first trip out of Nigeria was in 2017. Something in me changed after the COVID-19 pandemic. I suddenly had this urge to be outside, explore and do more. So I started actively travelling after that.

    Were these holidays or work trips?

    I’ll call them workations. I took these long trips, settled in a new city while working full time simultaneously. Weekends and evenings were spent like a tourist, while weekdays were focused on work.

    How many countries have you been to?

    I’ve been to 35 countries, and I’ve visited a lot of them multiple times. I’m more focused on the experience they give me than the number.

    That’s a lot of countries! When did you realise you love travelling?

    It was during a trip to Spain. I was in Malaga, and I was just completely awestruck by the beauty of it. The coastline, the water—it was so beautiful.

    I took a road trip from Malaga to Valencia, going from city to city. And I loved the feeling. I love meeting new people and experiencing new cultures, so that was the deciding moment for me. I knew that I needed to continue seeking that feeling.

    Interesting. What’s your favourite country you’ve visited?

    I have two: Thailand and Mexico.

    Mexico because, to me, Mexicans feel just like Nigerians. I felt like I was at home. The cultures just feel very similar.

    Then Thailand because they are some of the happiest people I’ve ever met. They are so kind, so caring, generous, sweet, and very warm.

    It’s quite common to hear Nigerians complain about the difficulty getting around with a Nigerian passport. How has that been like for you?

    Yeah, it was difficult in the beginning but I went about it the right way. I think most people go for a UK or US visa for their first application, having no travel history.

    What I did was to travel to African countries first. The first place I visited was Ghana. Then I went to Rwanda, Kenya, Uganda, and Tanzania. It was after visiting those African countries and  building that travel history that I started applying for visas outside the continent.

    The first country outside Africa I visited was Spain. It was a short visa, of merely  two weeks, but that’s how you start building that travel history. Now I have multi-year visas for the US, UK, Schengen, Thailand, and of course my visa and work permit in Canada. It didn’t just happen at once. I built my travel record very carefully.

    I think it’s also important to do your research and then do your applications yourself. If you have questions, ask people with experience. People need to know that a lot of the things that we fear would get us rejected are within our control. We just have to do the right things.

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    When you visit any new city, is there anything you look for to decide if you like it or not?

    Before I even go there, I try to do some research about it. I’ll read about it, and watch some videos to understand other people’s experiences. Then when I’m in the city, I usually take one of those group walking tours where you just walk around the city together with someone who has lived there for a long time.

    A good way to fall in love with a city is seeing it through the eyes of someone who loves it. So I try to see the city through the eyes of people who really know it.

    Also, those tours allow you to connect with other people who are also new in the city. It has been a good way for me to make friends.

    What has been your favourite travel experience?

    It was in Cappadocia in Turkey. I took a hot air balloon ride. The other passengers were all coupled up and taking pictures, and I was by myself just looking and watching the sun rise.

    It was so beautiful. That moment reconnected me with God spiritually. It was so beautiful to witness, being about a thousand metres above the ground watching the sun rise up. I thought to myself, “There has to be a God who made something this beautiful?”

    So you were basically touring the world on these “workations.” But what inspired you to leave Nigeria permanently?

    After my first solo trip, I realised that I couldn’t live in Nigeria anymore. I think even while growing up, I sometimes felt different in the things that brought me joy. I love experiences, simple things like taking a walk and deep human connections. Those simple pleasures were harder to build into my everyday life in Lagos because of how fast-paced the city is.

    I did not leave Nigeria because I was searching for a better life. Nigeria gave me a very full life, deep friendships, and strong roots. I left because my idea of fulfillment was evolving. That is what first led me to Kenya, where I lived for about a year and a half, and eventually to Canada.

    So Kenya had what you were looking for?

    It was perfect. The nature, and travelling around Kenya, is amazing. It’s so easy to move around. They have a great rail system that can take you from Nairobi down to Mombasa in less than five hours. And generally, it feels like a country that was built for tourism.

    Even Kenyans love travelling within Kenya. They’re always going on little weekend trips to different parts of the country. So for someone who likes to explore like me, it’s the perfect place to live.

    What was it like actually living in a new country?

    Initially, I was super excited. I had come to Kenya so many times as a visitor, but the reality of actually moving there was different. I thought it would be the same feeling as when I was visiting, but at the beginning, I had difficulty adjusting.

    First of all, Nairobi can get very cold. Also, the food is much less spicy than we prefer in Nigeria. But the biggest thing was trying to build a community.

    In Nigeria, I had all my friends, and I had a very active social life. I was always hosting people, throwing parties, and going for events. And then I got to Kenya and I had no friends. I basically had to start from scratch.

    But at the same time, I wasn’t in the country long enough to really build a strong community because I would stay for two to three months, then I’ll be on my next trip. By the time I’ve come back, the people I connected with have moved on with their lives. It didn’t help that a lot of the people I was able to connect with were also travellers like me. So even though we do keep in touch, our schedules were rarely in alignment.

    Did you experience any culture shocks in Kenya?

    I was pleasantly surprised by the independence of Kenyan women. They are very strong, very independent, and feel very much like the pillars of their society.

    I also found the work culture to be very different from Nigeria, at least comparing Nairobi to Lagos. While Lagos is very fast-paced with the usual hustle and bustle, Kenya felt more relaxed. On weekends, you’ll see people going to the park with their families for a picnic. Just simple things like that which I never saw living in Lagos.

    There’s this idea that Nigerians have a bad reputation on the continent. Did you feel that in Kenya?

    No, actually I would say it’s the opposite. While I was in Kenya, once I mentioned to anybody that I was Nigerian, they would get so excited. It was great.

    I’m actually grateful to Kenya for reconnecting me with my Nigerian roots and making me appreciate Nigeria more, especially our music. Everywhere you go in Kenya, the clubs, the bars, the restaurants, it is Nigerian music playing.

    For the longest time, my music taste leaned very Western. But being in Kenya got me listening to Nigerian music again.

    What was your best experience in Kenya?

    I’ll say my first safari. It was the Naivasha safari. You take a boat on the lake to an island, Crescent Island. And you can just walk amongst the animals.

    Like I said, I love nature. And being in that environment made me feel so connected to nature. I felt whole.

    That sounds amazing. What about your worst experience?

    That would have to be when a friend came to visit me in Nairobi, and in less than twelve hours of her arrival, her phone was stolen.

    Nairobi is actually notorious for crimes like phone theft. People jokingly call the city “Nairobbery.” So, I had actually warned her to be careful.

    We went to a nice upscale event. You naturally wouldn’t expect that your phone would get stolen in a place like that. But it happened. It was crazy. Definitely the worst experience.

    That is crazy. But apart from the crime, you said Kenya was perfect for you. So why the move to Canada?

    It just felt like the right next step for me. I was lucky enough to get a work permit here, and I took it as a sign from God that this was the next place that I needed to be.

    Also, I wanted something a bit more stable that would make me feel grounded. I want to really focus on my career right now, and I feel like Canada would be the best place for that.

    I also have a lot of friends and family here, so that helps. I’ve only lived here for about three months, and I already feel quite at home. Settling in has been a lot less difficult than it would have been if I didn’t have that support system.

    What has been your worst experience in Canada?

    A friend welcomed me so well and let me stay with them as long as I needed. But even with that soft landing, Canada still showed me shege.

    I had already planned a schedule in my head for all the things I would achieve before the end of the year. And getting my own apartment was a major part of the plan.

    But getting an apartment as someone who has never lived here before was so difficult. I kept getting rejected everywhere I went. Once they found out I’m an immigrant who just moved here, that was it.

    Rent here is typically on a monthly basis, and I was even offering twelve months rent upfront, but some landlords still wouldn’t rent to me.

    I began to lose hope because I was just so tired of looking for apartments every day and getting rejected. I’m grateful for my agent because he just kept on pushing and trying, and eventually I got a place. I just moved in a few days ago.

    So, yeah, the apartment search was a pretty terrible experience.

    Glad you found a place in the end. What about your best experience in Canada?

    That has to be my visit to Niagara Falls. Being on a boat while watching the falls crashing into the water was very beautiful.

    Let’s talk about future plans. You talked about moving to Canada because you wanted more stability. What does that look like for you?

    I want to eventually buy a house. At some point, I want to go back to school. I want to have a real presence in the FinTech space. And I feel like being in Toronto with New York and London just being hours away, I’m in a good spot location-wise.

    I also haven’t travelled around North America yet, so being here allows me to start to explore and just take some little trips to places close by.

    Do you ever see yourself returning to Nigeria permanently?

    To visit, definitely. To move, not anytime soon. Maybe when I’m seventy years old.

    In Nigeria, I would say I was quite comfortable. I had a driver, had a cook, and a housekeeper; I barely did any chores. All I did was focus on work. But those things don’t mean as much to me as simplicity, ease of life, and just being able to get amenities when I need them.

    It is actually funny how being away from Nigeria has made me love and appreciate it even more. Distance has given me perspective.

    On a scale of one to ten, how happy are you in Canada and why?

    I feel the happiest I’ve been in a long time. But ten would be a bit of a stretch. So let’s say a nine.

    I made this decision despite having so many things going well for me somewhere else because deep down I knew it aligned with what I want long-term. And with each passing day, I feel more confident that I made the right choice.

    It’s not been the easiest start, but I feel like everything has just been falling into place little by little. I feel very happy to have my little apartment with the Toronto skyline. The peace is what makes me truly 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).

    Before you go, help us understand how you and other young people feel about the 2027 general elections by taking this 10-minute survey.

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  • 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. 

    Chike* (32) and his wife were struggling to pay bills despite being two medical professionals in a no-child, two-income household. In this story, he shares how he left that life behind to become a cleaner in the United Kingdom and what life has been like in his first six months there.

    This model is not affiliated with the story in any way

    Where do you currently live, and when did you leave Nigeria?

    I live in the United Kingdom. I left Nigeria in 2025. I’ve only been here for about six months.

    What inspired you to leave?

    First of all, I don’t even think of it as leaving. I would say I escaped Nigeria. My reason for escaping was the search for better circumstances, for a better life.

    What was life like in Nigeria?

    Life in Nigeria was hard, with little to no reward for the stress. I am a radiographer and sonographer. My wife is a nurse. We don’t have children yet. Even though we were two working medical professionals, it was still difficult to pay the bills. 

    We couldn’t even make rent sometimes. We could barely get through the month without exhausting both of our salaries and sometimes having to take on debt.

    That’s insane. Did both of you travel or just you?

    Both of us. She actually moved first. She got a job as a nurse with the  National Health Service (NHS), and I joined her a couple of months later.

    I had registered and gotten licensed to practise radiography in the UK, but getting a job here proved difficult. Many employers still want UK experience.

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    So what did you do?

    I looked for other jobs. The first job I got was as a cleaner at a warehouse. 

    Wow! 

    I know, right? But I showed up with pride every day and took my job seriously. The shocking part is that I earned more cleaning in a week in the UK than I did in a month as a radiographer in Nigeria.

    In my first two months in the UK, I worked many different jobs in all sorts of places. Really labour-intensive jobs at packaging companies, food production companies, bottling companies, warehouses, anywhere that was hiring.

    But those were stressful. It was starting to tell on my body. So I got a job in care. Very recently, I finally got a job as a sonographer. I’m really happy about it because it was very difficult. To be honest, when I left Nigeria, I never imagined it would take me up to six months to get the job, considering all the experience I had. 

    Sometimes I just think about how hard it must be for my colleagues applying from Nigeria. The process is just getting tougher for immigrants.

    Congratulations on the new job. Any long-term plans?

    My goal is to progress within the NHS, do a master’s degree and specialise. I’m hoping to have started and maybe even finished my master’s within the next three years. My wife and I are trying to time it so we start our master’s together. That way, when we’re studying, we can both encourage each other.

    I’m really grateful for the grace of having a partner in all of this. Our ideals, goals and both short-term and long-term plans are all in alignment. That has been amazing.

    You called leaving Nigeria “escape.” Any possibility of a return at some point?

    If it weren’t for family back home, I wouldn’t be looking forward to coming back to Nigeria anytime soon. So the plan is to visit once in a while after we’re settled.

    To go back permanently, I don’t see that happening for the foreseeable future. The only thing that would ever make me seriously consider moving back would be a genuine and very drastic change in the conditions back home. The current Nigeria, as it is, is not a place I want to be.

    You’ve only been in the UK for a short period. But apart from your wife, have you started to build a support system?

    I’m naturally a bit reclusive, so to be honest, currently, my wife is really my only support system here. Even the few Nigerians I’ve met here were introduced to me by my wife. They are her colleagues and friends, and I guess they are sort of my friends by extension.

    Let’s talk about your experiences in these first six months. Any culture shocks?

    When I got off the plane, the first thing that hit me was the cold. I was mentally prepared for it to be cold, but my body clearly wasn’t. It took me a few weeks to adjust.

    I’ll say the stereotype about their food being bland isn’t dishonest. They don’t do spicing as we do back home. We mostly cook Nigerian food at home. Unlike my wife, I’m open to experimenting and trying new things. So I’ll always try British cuisine. Some of them are downright horrible, but some are actually very good.

    There’s something I’d heard about the culture here, and I’ve seen it for myself. People can be polite, smile with you, meanwhile they figuratively stab you in the back. But I don’t necessarily think it’s a bad thing. Even when I can tell the smile is fake, I still appreciate it. I feel like even a fake smile can make someone feel a bit better.

    And honestly, I think it’s part of why their system works. There are aspects of the culture I really appreciate. For example, even superiors at work still have to respect you and treat you correctly. Because of that, every job retains the dignity of the person.

    I said I was proud of my first job here as a cleaner. Back in Nigeria, it would be unimaginable for someone of my academic standing to accept such a job with pride. It would be considered embarrassing, and you’d be paid next to nothing. But here, even a job like that pays a livable wage.

    So while there are cultural differences that take some getting used to, I can’t criticise them because I think it’s all part of why their system works.

    Let’s talk about highlights and lowlights. What has been your worst experience so far?

    My worst experience was a very long warehouse shift. Twelve hours of back-breaking work with only one hour of an unpaid break. To make things worse, the bus that was supposed to take me home never left the station that day. I had to trek for almost two hours to the next train station. That day was just the worst.

    Sounds horrible. What has been your best experience?

    My best experience was getting the NHS sonography job. That was the moment I finally felt like I had arrived. After six months, I felt like I could start my life here.

    It’s like in the journey of my life, I was travelling down a smooth road, then when I got here, I turned onto a very rough side path. I had to take that path for six months. When I finally got this job, I felt like I’d started to turn back onto the smooth road again.

    The process was tough. It involved a physical interview where I had to perform a live ultrasound scan in front of a four-person panel of British professionals. It was nerve-racking, especially because it had been over five months since I left Nigeria, so I was out of practice.

    Honestly, I was doubting myself. It was the first time I’d gotten to the interview stage of any of my applications. I knew there were many other applicants. I didn’t have UK experience. So I was nervous.

    It had been so difficult getting to that stage. If I didn’t get it, I didn’t know how long it would take me to get another. So it felt like a lot was riding on it. I tried not to think about it too much so I could manage my disappointment if I didn’t get it. My wife was more confident than I was. She believed in me more than I believed in myself.

    When the acceptance mail came, I screamed the whole house down. I bet my neighbours thought something was wrong. That was my best moment so far.

    I can imagine. Congratulations again. On a scale of one to ten, how happy are you in the UK and why?

    I’d say a solid eight point five. My major reason for leaving Nigeria was to seek a better quality of life. I’m not looking to work less, but I want to actually see the fruits of my hard work. I don’t want to be living to work, I want to work for a living. Here, I feel my hard work is rewarded.

    As a radiographer in Nigeria, I could barely afford my own needs. But here, I can even help out family back home.

    It doesn’t feel like a fool’s dream to plan towards buying our own home in a few years. You don’t have to save two years’ salary untouched before you can afford an old car just to commute. If we live frugally for two to three months, we should be able to get at least a fairly used car if we want.

    A lot of the things you’re conditioned to see as luxury back home are considered basic here. So it’s just a much better quality of life.

    It’s not a ten because I still think about my family in Nigeria. Even if you escape a dungeon and you still have family there, then a part of you is still in that dungeon. So even as things get better for me, I still have to put in extra effort to help make things better for them.

    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).

    Before you go, help us understand how you and other young people feel about the 2027 general elections by taking this 10-minute survey.

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  • It’s that time of the year when the “I Just Got Backs” (AKA IJGBs or Nigerians abroad) return to the motherland to check on their family and loved ones.

    They’ll bring out foreign currencies, accents will flow left and right, and these allegations will remain around their necks.

    Wannabe ballers

    All IJGBs do is show off the superiority of their foreign cash. And now, naira can’t even fight back.

    Money speaks 

    IJGBs will trigger your lover’s release clause with money and abroad rizz. 

    Passport tactics

    Any small thing, they’ll brag about their red and blue passports. 

    No rizz without money

    The moment these dollar and pound sterling people surprise your partner before you, it’s all over.

    Don’t let them tell you lies

    All IJGBs are liars. If you snooze, they’ll give you cold zobo.

    Look before you cross the road

    If you don’t shine your eyes, you might find yourself becoming a genital meet-and-greet statictic on someone’s scoreboard.

    Consistently inconsistent

    They only remember their Naija crush at the end of the year. When the new year comes, they’d leave and ghost till the next holiday.

    Cut your coat to your size

    Don’t let peer pressure injure you.

    IJGB or “ijogbon”

    IJGBs will break your heart and ghost. Is their real name not “ijogbon” (trouble)?

    Beware of bed bugs

    Prevention is better than scratching your body and fighting little assassins that suck blood.

    It’s touching everyone

    Your friends abroad might want to leave out the fact that the current inflation is a global phenomenon.

  • Call them and start crying

    Normalise calling your abroad folks in the middle of the night just to cry, so they can know that there’s fire on the mountain, and the mountain in this case is your bank account.

    Tell them you want to know what foreign currency feels like

    If you know anything about abroad people, you’ll know they’re always eager to tell you how nice everything is abroad. So, why not have them extend the gesture to what the currency feels like too?

    Remind them of when you were in the trenches together

    Make them nostalgic with throwback pictures of when you were both in Nigeria, then follow up with stories of how everything is hard and you need urgent ₦‎2k to see front. It’ll be in your account before sundown.

    Offer to send them dry kponmo

    It doesn’t even  have to be kponmo, but something that’s hard for them to find abroad would definitely slap. Stockfish and Maggi cubes  can work wonders.

    Tell them you found land in the village

    They want somewhere to tie down their dollars and pounds, and that’s where you come in. You can find them a piece of land in the village and bill them to pay for it. It might not be your money but at least it’ll touch your account.

    Make it easy for them to send you money

    Getting them to agree is one thing, but how you’ll receive the money is another. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot by not planning it well. Luckily, there’s Busha to help you take away the headache of receiving money from people abroad.

    If you run a business, are a freelancer, or just need to receive crypto payments from abroad, you can easily get paid internationally using Busha Commerce. All you have to do is sign up on their website to get started.

  • 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.

    Today’s subject on #AbroadLife is the main character in a tale of three countries. After deciding to study abroad nine years ago, he was finally able to in 2021. He talks about being the only black person in an English town, having a fun time living in Greece, and dealing with the language barrier in France.

    Where are you right now?

    I’m in Nantes, France.

    How did you get there?

    I got an Erasmus Mundi scholarship to study for my Master’s degree in Europe, and it’s taken me through three countries so far. It’s a joint Master’s degree programme and it’s administered by three universities in three different countries, with full tuition paid.

     Wild. When did you decide to leave Nigeria?

    In 2013. I got into a federal university in 2012 and was admitted to study Fishery and Aquaculture. I wanted medicine, but that’s what they offered me instead. So, I spent my first year trying to be serious and get good enough grades to help me cross into Pharmacy at the very least. 

    I didn’t know anything about scholarships at the time. The people who ran printing centres in school would come to class and tell us to apply for scholarships. But I always thought it was a scam just to collect the ₦1,000 registration fee. 

    The following year, I started seeing my friends get some of the popular scholarships at the time; MTN, NNPC, Agbami, etc. These people didn’t have grades as good as mine, but they still got scholarships worth around ₦100,000 to ₦200,000 every year. 

    That’s when it really hit me that scholarships were a thing. I made the decision that I would get a scholarship to study abroad for my Master’s degree. The first reason was that I wanted to become an expert in my field, and the second reason was that I knew I could do it. I started researching and documenting things in my final year. 

    When did you start applying for scholarships?

    In 2019, during my NYSC in Akure. I applied for two scholarships in the Netherlands and the UK. I was actually hopeful because my grades were stellar, but I was served breakfast on both sides.

    LMAO. What did you do next?

    I got a job upon completion of my NYSC, and I started thinking about ditching my scholarship dream because I was making enough money from it. On the other hand, I had nothing to lose if I didn’t get a scholarship, so I decided to try again. The only difference was, my motivation wasn’t as high as it was before. Money can distract you from your dreams, to be honest.

    The next year, during COVID, I applied for two more scholarships. One of them was the Commonwealth scholarship administered by the UK government, and it was the one I eventually got. I was selected to get funding to study in the UK, but sadly, it didn’t happen then.

    Why?

    Because of all the economic damage COVID caused, the UK government decided to cut funding for that year. So, I received an email saying I still had my scholarship, but I’d have to defer my scholarship till the next year. The following year, I reapplied for the other scholarship that rejected me. This time, I was successful. Now, I had two scholarships and could weigh my options.

    The commonwealth scholarship offered me full funding to study in the UK for a year, after which I must return to Nigeria to develop it. But the other scholarship didn’t have that clause. Even better, it was for a joint Master’s programme to be administered by three schools in different countries: Scotland, Greece and France. This meant I’d get to see more of Europe. I chose the second scholarship and started the process of migrating.

    What was the process like?

    Even though it was my first time leaving Nigeria, I found the process pretty easy. I got a letter from the scholarship office stating that the scholarship would cover 100% of the tuition and a monthly stipend. I didn’t have to worry about providing proof of funds and other things like that. I was granted a visa within three weeks of applying, and I moved to the UK in September 2021.

    Walk me through your journey across Europe

    I arrived in London first. COVID was still on at the time, so I couldn’t move to Scotland immediately, and my classes were online. I had many friends in the UK already, so I stayed with one of them. I was there for about three months before I moved to a town called Oban in Scotland.

    I expected the UK to be cold, and it was. I expected it to be beautiful; it also was. But my God, the apartments are tiny! My room was smaller than my room back in Nigeria, and I had to pay £450 every month in rent, my yearly rent back in Nigeria.

    To make things worse, I had to share a kitchen with other people in the building. So all I really had to myself was a room and toilet. And the buildings weren’t so modern because they try to preserve their architectural history. To top it all up, I was the only black person in the town.

    Wait, what?

    It’s a really small town. If there were any other black person there, I’m very sure I’d have met them at some point. But I never saw any other black person throughout my stay. 

    It wasn’t weird at all though. The people were very welcoming, and I’d sometimes go to bars and get them to play afrobeats. They loved it. I had a good time, but I only spent three months there before I had to move to Greece for the next part of my programme.

    What was Greece like?

    Honestly, Greece is like Nigeria Pro Max. When I got there, I thought, “Did they bring me to Lagos by mistake?” People were blaring horns so loudly, and no one respected zebra crossings. It was giving Ojuelegba-level chaos. 

    One time, I tried to use a zebra crossing, thinking the cars would wait for me the way they would in the UK. Come and see swerving. I was the one dodging cars. At that point, I knew I’d found Nigeria’s twin. It’s a very interesting country and naturally beautiful too sha. 

    I lived in a city called Heraklion, and it has a beautiful landscape, beautiful beaches and many historic sites. Things were also cheaper in Greece than in the UK. Their economy was worse, which meant the stipend I was getting translated into a lot more cash for me. The buildings were not that pretty, and you could tell the country was battling sapa at the time.

    Tell me about the people

    The people in Greece are friendlier and more laid back than those in the UK. Back in London, everyone was about their hustle and didn’t really give a shit about you. But no one knows how to have fun as much as the Greeks. 

    About 70% of the people in Greece speak English, so I could get by very well in social circles without knowing any Greek. The families are bigger because they don’t migrate very often. 

    How long were you there for?

    Six months, before having to move to Nantes in September.

    Where?

    Nantes, in France. It’s a student city, so I met more people from different parts of the world there. For the first time since London, I saw a lot of black people. It’s a lot like the UK actually. But the main difference is language. One annoying thing is how snobbish French people are about their language. It’s almost as if they have a long-standing beef with English speakers. 

    The first thing I learnt to say in French was, “I don’t know how to speak French”. The whole point was to get the person to speak English with me, but nine out of ten times, their countenance would change the minute I said it. French people aren’t as friendly as the Greeks, but they’re even less friendly if you don’t speak French. They’ll say they can’t speak English and air you, even when they actually can. 

    It’s so bad that even in the hospitals, the doctors only talk to you in French. The country is also very bureaucratic; there’s a lot of unnecessary paperwork you have to deal with, and they’re all in French. Emails from the authorities come in French, and when you call to ask for clarity, they’ll speak French. So, language is a real social barrier for me here. The lucky thing in all of this is that my classes are in English. If not, I’d be in trouble.

    How are you dealing with it?

    I’m currently learning French sha, so these people can stop airing me anyhow. I have French classes twice a week, and it’s helping. The good part is my coursework across the countries has been in English, so language isn’t affecting my studies in any way.

    What do you love about France?

    First of all, it’s very multicultural. In the other countries, the diversity came from the people in my own class. But we’ve been the same people moving together from place to place for the past year. In Nantes, there are people from all over the world. One time, I went to a church and saw so many black people, I thought I was back in Benin, Nigeria. 

    Another thing I love is the fact that it’s a welfarist state. The government cares about the people who don’t earn very much. My stipend is around €1,000 per month. But because I’m a student, I get up to 60% off my €450 rent, financed by the French government. The same goes for food and a bunch of other things I need to stay alive. 

    And what’s school been like so far?

    Moving from school to school across different countries is very tough. Not only is the system of education different from Nigeria, but each country has a different system of their own. In the UK, we didn’t have proper exams; we wrote essays that would count towards the assessment grade. Most of my classes were online, and there’s only so much one can learn without being in a classroom. In Greece, I had proper exams and the classes were in-person. It was a better learning environment for me as I could interact directly with my classmates and ask questions in class. I’d say my semester in Greece has been the easiest so far.

    France basically combines everything. Essays, exams, assignments, field trips, you name it. We do everything.

    So, where will you go from here?

    Back to Greece to finish my programme. It’s a two-year master’s programme. I did the first semester of my first year in the UK and the second one in Greece. The third one is what I’m currently doing, and the last will be in Greece. I can’t wait to leave the stress of this place and get back to my second Nigeria.

    LMAO. Your love for that place is really something

    Yes. It’s like Nigeria but with constant light.

    Hey there! My name is Sheriff and I’m the writer of Abroad Life. If you’re a Nigerian and you live or have lived abroad, I would love to talk to you about what that experience feels like and feature you on Abroad Life. All you need to do is fill out this short form, and I’ll be in contact.

  • When you’re across the world and five hours behind everyone you love, you quickly learn they can’t always help you through the challenging moments of living in a new city. At least, that’s what I learnt during my first week in Cambridge, Massachusetts. 

    Between getting confused about how to find the right queue to exit the airport as an immigrant, not knowing when to cross the street and accidentally locking myself outside my room on day three, I’ve had to depend entirely on strangers.

    I travelled to Cambridge for my master’s programme. I’d been working on it for three years and finally got a break when I got a scholarship to Harvard in March. Getting a degree from an Ivy League college felt like I’d get a shot at finally working at the United Nations or World Bank. The excitement from my family and friends pacified the idea that I would be alone in a new country in five months. There was no time to focus on that. I needed to prepare for my departure.

    The months leading up to leaving were fast. Every single day was a rush trying to meet up with the list of things I needed to pack. Honestly, the most important thing to me was food. Where was I going to find my favourite dried smoked catfish in Cambridge? The city has only 10% of black people in America living there, so I needed to stuff my bags with everything Nigerian — that could fit into two 23 kg luggage.

    “They’d ask questions about your trip based on your visa type. But one wrong answer could mean going back to your country.”

    How do you fit your entire life into two 23 kg luggage? You can’t. The night before my trip, I watched my mum and her sisters divide everything I owned for my cousins. My favourite clothes, the drawings I’d collected from paint and sip dates with friends and the speaker I tricked my boyfriend into leaving at the house just a month before. It felt slightly depressing.

    You may think I’m ungrateful for the opportunity to leave Nigeria, but I couldn’t control feeling sad. The only time I ever left Nigeria before Cambridge was for holidays in Wales as a kid, and now, for the next two years, I’d suddenly be living in a foreign country with no family or friends. Imagine the stress of trying to make new friends as an adult or something as little as trying to figure out how to braid my hair rather than pay someone $200. That fear overshadowed all the hype about Harvard.

    The feelings slowly faded away in the departure hall. I guess taking one last selfie with my parents and little brother should have made me feel worse, but somehow, it reminded me of how far we’d come — all the late-night reading for exams while I was working finally made sense. But what really got me was the last text from my mum before my flight took off. “You’re the best part of my dysfunctional relationship,” she said.  It was the first time I felt my mum was really proud of me. My mum isn’t the most expressive person, so knowing that made the next 23 hours of transit feel better. 

    “Only my bags and the huge rosary that once belonged to my grandmother my mum forced into my hand luggage created a semblance of home.”

    I’d read articles about immigration officers at the point of entry into the US who try to vet people coming. They’d ask questions about your trip based on your visa type. But one wrong answer could mean going back to your country. 

    Everything on my documents checked out, but I wouldn’t say I was the most optimistic person.

    All my fear came rushing back when I finally landed in Massachusetts. In the departure hall, separate lines are designated for immigrants to access the point of entry. Unlike the Nigerian airports where you see mostly white people on one side, the foreigners were a mix of races. I tried to filter for other Nigerians on my connecting flight from Qatar to Boston, but I couldn’t. A clear sign that I was no longer home.

    With my two large bags filled with all the Nigerian snacks and soup spices I took for granted back home, I stood confused. There were airport officials to help, but a dark-haired lady yelling, “Stand on the yellow line if you’re American. Blue line, non-Americans,” didn’t make things easier.  

    The sensible thing to do was ask for help, but the Nigerian in me wanted to figure it out alone. And that’s a character that doesn’t serve you well in a new country.

    RELATED: “Leaving Nigeria Helped Me Accept My Sexuality”-Abroad Life

    I finally made it to the right queue when I spotted a man holding a Ghana-must-go bag on the blue line. 

    When I got past immigration, the next challenge was figuring out how to get from the airport to the apartment I’d rented in Cambridge over an online renting platform. Luckily, my roommate happened to be in the area when I texted to let him know I’d landed safely. 

    Again, the Nigerian in me didn’t feel safe getting into the car without taking a picture of the plate number and sending it to everyone I knew back home. But what could they have done if the roommate I got online turned out to be the next Ted Bundy? 

    Thankfully, the apartment was real.  “This is your new home,” my roommate said, as we dragged my bags onto the elevator. I wouldn’t call it home yet, but I can’t deny how pretty the apartment looked. I loved the view of trees from my window. But as I packed my stuff in and settled into my room, I felt empty. Only my bags and the huge rosary that once belonged to my grandmother my mum forced into my hand luggage created a semblance of home. It hurt to realise I was now alone.

    I understand the excitement of my friends and family for my trip, this new adventure, but it didn’t take away the reality that I felt like I was starting my life all over again. All my friends and family expected me to be happy. That’s all they talked about leading up to my departure. “Oh, you’re so lucky. Thank God you’re getting out before the elections,” they said. But I’d left my job, all my friends, and I didn’t have any family in Massachusetts. Calling to share that sadness wouldn’t make me feel better, so I focused on unpacking. 

    “It was silly of me not to clarify what stew meant to my American roommate because I ended up eating the rice with chilli sauce and broccoli.”

    I put all my foodstuff in the fridge. Of course, the garri poured in my bag, so I needed to clean it up. I also didn’t have any hangers for my clothes, so I picked out the nightwear I needed for the night and put out clothes I needed for a few days in my closet. Bathing was what really calmed my nerves. I brought my favourite soap, and the smell reminded me of being back in my own bathroom. Not the unfamiliar tub I was in. 

    The next decision to make was what to eat. My roommate offered me some crackers, cheese and pickles to snack on. I hated the thought of cheese and pickles, but I tried it sha. The pickles were definitely not for me. They were salty and had some weird taste I honestly can’t describe. After one bite, I decided chin-chin was the best way forward. 

    My roommate was kind enough to offer me dinner. His first suggestion was rice over chicken. I asked if there’d be stew. He said yes.

    It was silly of me not to clarify what stew meant to my American roommate because I ended up eating the rice with chilli sauce and broccoli. Surprisingly, the broccoli was the best part. It was crunchy and salty, but the rest needed some salt and pepper to satisfy the Nigerian in me. 

    “I was happy that someone who’s lived in the city all his life was just as confused with the roads.”

    In my first week here, the biggest hurdle was getting around the city. I want to trust Google Maps, but turning around at least three times to figure out the right direction to face gets really annoying. Yet, I’ve decided to figure it out on my own anyway. 

    I know it’s not unusual to walk up to a random stranger for help in Nigeria. But when I was trying to find my way to class the next day and approached an Asian lady for help, she seemed startled. Maybe it was the way I said,  “Sorry, please, excuse me,” before I actually asked my question that confused her. So, I’m a little more cautious now.

    After 15 minutes of walking, I eventually figured out I just needed to turn left from the street, and it was pretty easy from there with Google maps. But three days later, I got lost again trying to get to the store. It should be easy navigating the streets with Google maps, but the roads are laid out in a confusing way. 

    When I ranted to my roommate, he complained about how much he hated driving in Cambridge too. Apparently, the roads were previously horse tracks, so there are many intersections that lead to confusion. 

    “I blamed myself for moving away and making our relationship so difficult. “

    I didn’t understand what all of that meant. I was just happy that someone who’s lived in the city all his life was just as confused with the roads.

    If you’re wondering how I got home, just know I spent 20 minutes walking, missed one bus then cried at the bus stop. I eventually gave up and decided to take an Uber. I was upset at the thought of spending $10 on a ride rather than $2 on the bus. The Nigerian in me still converts everything to naira, so please, free me. 

    When I returned to my apartment, I cried some more and sat on the kitchen floor. I was frustrated with how hard finding my way around would be for the next few weeks. I wanted to call a friend to vent, but it was 1 a.m. in Nigeria. 

    I still tried calling my boyfriend. He wanted to be physically present, but hearing that was hard. I blamed myself for moving away and making our relationship so difficult. He didn’t think of things that way though. He wanted to comfort me in whatever way he could, so he ordered me some food with Uber eats. 

    “I miss Lagos conductors “

    Sadly, the food never arrived. Turns out my street exists in two places, and I didn’t include the right one in the address I shared. There was no way we could sort things out because it was 11 p.m. on my end. I was getting tired and sleeping seemed like a better option. 

    I can’t deny that it’s been surreal walking through Harvard for a  week. I remember my boss from last year telling me I’d never get in with a second-class degree from UNILAG. Until the moment I submitted my application, I believed him. But I pushed passed the fear and got in. 

    Now that I’m here, this phase of figuring things out has been overwhelming. I can’t tell you how much I miss Lagos conductors. They were my Google Maps of Lagos, and they actually knew where I needed to go. The little things I really appreciate now. I just hope one day I’ll think about Cambridge as somewhere that feels like home or close enough.

    ALSO READ: Japa Plans? Here’s Everything You Can Expect With Immigration

  • Believe it or not, they’re just five of us left in Nigeria, and the pressure is getting even werser. If you have doubts about your friends’ whereabouts, here are some simple ways to know they’ve japa.

    They stop posting online 

    When your friend goes from always posting themselves on their statuses to only posting memes, or worse, not posting at all. Just forget it, them don leave you go. 

    They send you snaps of the sky or roof

    Snapchat users can testify to this one. You’ll just wake up to a video of the sky or roof with an accompanying song about the wonders of God. Ehn, Mercy Chinwo, well done. 

    They start replying your messages by 2 a.m.

    Somebody who used to reply immediately is now taking five hours, and the replies only come at night. In case you’re beginning to wonder if they’re only doing night plan, my dear, your guy is now in a new dispensation 

    They add the Nigerian flag to their bio 

    Because tell me, which Nigerian living in Nigeria would wake up, buy bread for ₦1k, swim inside Lekki flood on the way to their office, survive robbery in Lagos traffic on the way home, and still put Nigerian flag in their bio? 

    The call never connects when you try their line

    You’ve been chatting with them online, but the line disconnects whenever you try to call them. Do you still need us to tell you that they’ve changed their line?

    Their skin is now skinning 

    They posted selfies, and you’re asking them what their skin routine is. Leemao, it’s the abroad life filter. 

    They start joining foreign Twitter spaces 

    You’ve started getting notifications that Tobi is in a Twitter space about Nigerians navigating the UK? What other proof do you need? 

    NEXT READ: What Happens When Your Loved One Japas?

  • Many Nigerians have decided it’s better to be patriotic from abroad than to stick around for things to get better, and can we blame them? The country is after our lives. 

    While you’re happy about your loved ones’ japaing, it’s also valid to feel sad, upset, frustrated, jealous even. Don’t take my word for it; here’s what these Nigerians had to say about being left behind. 

    “I don’t know how many more goodbyes I have in me” — Bola

    My really close friend travelled a while back, and I was devastated, to say the least. I’d been aware of the whole process, but when it hit was when he got his visa. I was overjoyed — I’m not a witch — but I was also very sad because it could be the end of our friendship. I’ve started to think seriously about relocating because everyone around me seems either ready to leave or in the process, and I don’t know how many more goodbyes I have in me. 

    “We weren’t close, so it didn’t make a difference” — Esther

    It was pretty much a relief for me. My sister getting her visa meant she could join her husband who left a year before. Asides from that, we hadn’t been close for a long time, so her relocation didn’t make a difference to me. 

    “I was heartbroken for the first couple of months” — Emma

    Both my siblings are out of the country, so I’m experienced in this subject matter. However, the reactions were a little different for both of them — my elder sister left when I was younger and in boarding school, so even though I was sad, I didn’t feel it so much.

    But because my younger sister and I really bonded over COVID, I was heartbroken for the first couple of months after she left. It’s been a year now, and even though I still miss her, I think the distance has helped us grow. My elder sister and I are even closer now. 

    “We don’t have enough memories” — Flo

    Having people you care about leave just makes you sad. It makes you question yourself like “What are you doing with your life? When will you be ready for this big change too? Is relocating even something you want?” 

    When you get past that part, you realise you haven’t made enough memories with the person, and that’s the sad part because you can’t even say what will happen after they leave, you can only hope they don’t forget you in the end.

    “I didn’t expect to feel as sad” — Bankole

    A friend of mine who also happens to be my coworker told me he was leaving in a month, and I was sad. I didn’t expect to feel as sad as I did because we had a misunderstanding some months ago that put a dent in our friendship. But with him leaving, the fight seems so trivial now, and stupid. 

    “I’ll miss her, but I’m looking at the bigger picture” — Temi

    My cousin leaving for the UK is one of the best things to happen with the country falling apart. Yes, I’ll miss her, but I’m looking at the bigger picture — her being there is all the motivation I need to be serious with my plans in the coming year.

    “It’s like I’ve missed out on friendships that would’ve been” — Adebo 

    Over the years, I’ve had my sister and at least three close friends relocate. I’m so happy for them, I switch between asking them to come visit and advising them against stepping foot in Nigeria. But nothing takes away the feeling that I’ve missed out on friendships and relationships that would’ve been. It’s even worse when they move to places with different time zones from mine. My best friend is going to leave soon. Just thinking about it makes me shed tears because he’s my last close friend around.

    CHECK NOW: Forget About Japaing if You Do Less Than 14/20 of These Things 

  • 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.

    This week’s Abroad Life story is three in one. Our subject is a development economist who has a particularly interesting Japa story that spans over seven years and took her to three countries on different continents. She’s currently in the United States, but that doesn’t seem to be her final destination.

    First, why did you decide to leave Nigeria?

    It was just a very oppressive place for me. Not just politically and economically, but also socially. It wasn’t a place that allowed me to express myself in the ways I wanted. I was alté before alté actually became a thing, so it was really stressful to explain why I dressed the way I did or did things a certain way. This was as far back as 2009. I was around age 15 at the time and my need for self-expression was starting to explode. 

    I decided I wanted to go someplace where I’d have the freedom to be more expressive. I can’t remember exactly when I made the decision to leave, but I remember doing a lot of research for places to go, and after a while, I settled for Italy.

    Why Italy?

    So, I really wanted to go somewhere that didn’t have a lot of Nigerians. This isn’t because I had anything against Nigerians, but you know how parents have their own international spy network? I was trying very hard to avoid that. I just wanted a place where I could really get to know myself.

    Secondly, I’d begun a career in the creative arts, and it was important for me to go someplace where I could nurture my curiosity and gain more experience. I did my research and found a programme that would let me spend time in Italy and Germany. This was very appealing to me because at that time, I was working for an art foundation. Italy represents such a big part of art history with the Renaissance, and I would be living in Tuscany, one hour away from Florence. 

    Also, Berlin represents that edgy and experimental phase of art, and I thought that summed up everything I was looking for at the time. I also liked that I could see other countries in Europe relatively cheaply because of the EU agreement. I wasn’t even thinking about the US or Canada at the time. You could have given me a million dollars, and I still wouldn’t have gone to those countries.

    That sounds very interesting and intentional. So what was the process like?

    Hmmm, this question. So I applied for a long-stay visa to Italy. This was my first time handling such applications by myself, and it was quite stressful. It was also my first exposure to how demeaning traveling on a Nigerian passport is, whether you’rea tourist or not. 

    First of all, booking an appointment was very stressful. Even though there were websites for this, I had to go to the embassy and get the security to talk to me and give me a date. A lot of people had to bribe them just to get an appointment. 

    The second problem was the embassy staff themselves had all this information printed out and displayed, but they weren’t actually very helpful in person. They were mostly irritated by the applicants. This meant I had to figure most things out by myself or by talking to people who had been through the process.

    Another thing I didn’t think about was that Italy isn’t an English-speaking country, so I had to translate all my documents to Italian, and I had to assemble documents from when I was born because it was for a long-stay visa. There was a time I lost all my translated documents and had to start over. 

    Another time, they asked me to come back to the embassy, and when I did, they refused to open the gates for me. I have this sharp memory of just standing outside the Italian embassy wearing my sunglasses, with silent tears streaming down my face. I felt very “f*ck this process!” at the time, but I picked myself up and continued.

    Wow, that’s a lot!

    The good part was once it was done, it was done. So, five months after I started, my visa got approved. I packed my bags and moved to Italy. This was in 2015.

    Awesome! What was Italy like?

    Italy was very beautiful, but because I was young and had never travelled before, there were a lot of things I didn’t know about being an immigrant. I just assumed everything would go smoothly. In hindsight, I should’ve done more research about that.

    How young were you at the time?

    I was between the ages of 20 and 21.

    Wait…what?

    Haha, yes. I was very young at the time. 

    What was the experience like in Italy?

    Once you get there, you have to go to the police and register yourself, so they can prepare your residency documents. You basically show them your visa, and they prepare a residency card you can take everywhere. 

    The problem was the visa I had was very restrictive. I wasn’t on a work visa, so paid work was very hard to find. I was very fortunate at the time to be receiving a monthly allowance from my parents back in Nigeria. I just continued my academic research till I found an internship at an art gallery that allowed me to indulge my passion for the arts. I eventually had to come back to Nigeria because I had a long-stay visa not a permanent one.

    postcard from Italy

    Back to the trenches. How did you deal with that?

    It was fun to be back actually. I just hung around for a bit and enjoyed life as a Lagos babe. 

    Where did you go from here?

    I love Nigeria, but I can’t be there for too long or I start losing my mind. But at that point, I was no longer working full-time in the creative sector. It had become a side thing, and I was now in a field called “international development”. This was just a fancy name for NGO work. 

    I looked at the careers of people I wanted to be like and noticed they’d spent time in low-income countries. So I decided to do that. I found an international development gig in Uganda through a Facebook group I’d joined. The pay was poor but they provided for all the living logistics so I didn’t mind. 

    I took the job on the understanding that I was going to enter the country on a tourist visa with the provision for a work visa upon arrival. LMAO. Big mistake.

    What happened?

    The Ugandans denied my work visa. It was a big shock because everyone they’d hired for that position before had had their visa approved. But I was also the first African national to be hired for that role. Every other person was Canadian or American. This is when I discovered discrimination within Africa, and it was more traumatising to me than it was in western countries.

    I had to file an appeal to get a work visa, which meant they had to keep my passport for that period. My job was meant to last for a period of two years but for the next seven months, I didn’t have a passport. The problem was, as a foreigner in Uganda, you need a passport to register for everything. So I had to beg my coworkers for everything. To get a SIM card, they had to register it under their name. I didn’t even have a bank account in Uganda; my salary had to be paid in cash. The worst part for me was I couldn’t even travel. Not home, not anywhere.

    Eventually, I had to cut my two-year contract down to one year and cancel my appeal. But even after I did that, my passport wasn’t released to me. I was put in an immigrations vehicle and driven to the airport like I was being deported. They held onto my passport until I got to passport control. I’m never going back to Uganda. It was a harrowing experience. 

    Postcard from Uganda

    I’m so sorry about that. So what did you do after all this?

    At this point, I didn’t have migration energy anymore. I came back to Nigeria in 2019 and stayed for a while. I got a job I liked but didn’t see myself staying long-term at. 

    I had a short vacation in Europe that reinvigorated my travel spirit, and I started thinking more long-term about migrating. My plan was to go to a prestigious school and work at a prestigious organisation. This was when I stopped being alté and became more mainstream.

    I did my research and decided to get a master’s degree in development economics. I was lucky enough to get a full scholarship to an American university. The programme was ranked top 0.1% in the world, and I liked that. But I wanted security. So, for the sake of insurance, I started processing my Canadian PR (Permanent Residency).

    A smart woman. How did that go?

    My school was in Washington DC, which is an expensive place to live in. Because my scholarship didn’t cover living expenses, I was a few thousand dollars short. Luckily, I had friends who were keeping their money in my account at the time, so I could easily ask to borrow from that to cover my expenses. 

    The visa application process was different than I was used to because I mainly interacted with the school and not the embassy, initially. I was meant to start school physically in August 2020, but COVID struck when I started the visa application process in March. As a result, I was going to school remotely from Nigeria. Because school had already started, I was granted an emergency appointment with the US embassy in November. The visa was approved, I bought my ticket and got ready to move. By January 2021, I was in the US.

    How has it been so far? Expectations vs Reality: US edition

    The first thing that struck me was how big everything is. The roads were big, the houses were big, even the serving portions at restaurants were really big. It’s why I like DC, because it has a bit of normalcy to it. But everywhere else, it’s as if they have an obsession with size.

    Another thing that surprised me was the health system. Everywhere else, when you’re sick, you go to the hospital nearest to you. In America, that’s one chance! First of all, you have to have insurance. Secondly, your insurance only covers certain things, so you have to call your insurance company to confirm if what’s making you go to the hospital is covered. I find that ridiculous. 

    Advertising is also constantly in your face. Everyone’s trying to figure out another way to take money from you. On top of that, it’s actually cheaper to buy something new than it is to fix it, which feeds into the consumerist lifestyle they already have. For example, if something was wrong with the zip on my dress, it’ll be cheaper for me to buy a new dress than to take it to someone who can fix the zip. That’s insane.

    The last shocker would be an abundance of well-mannered men. Right now, I’m retired from Nigerian men. Only God’s intervention would make me go back. Sorry, not sorry.

    What’s your favourite thing about the US?

    I like my life here because I have peace of mind. My favorite thing is I could never afford therapy until I came to this country. My insurance now gives me access to incredible mental healthcare, which has done a lot for me. I’m really grateful for that.

    Postcard from the USA

    What’s life like right now and what are your plans for the future?

    I’m basically enjoying myself right now. I really like it here. I particularly like DC because there’s a lot of thoughtfulness in how the city was planned that reminds me of Europe. It’s a really beautiful place. 

    My sister is closeby in Canada, and I’m also in a loving relationship. I’m applying for jobs, and yeah, I was right. Getting a fancy education and internships has opened ridiculous amounts of doors. I’m in a good place.

    As for the future, I see myself staying here long-term. The worst-case scenario is I pack my bags and move to Canada next-door which solves the problem of ever having to be stuck in Nigeria by condition. So yes, that’s my story. It only took me seven years, but I did it.

    READ THIS NEXT: “My Family Wouldn’t Be Close-Knit if We Didn’t Move to Canada” — Abroad Life

    Want more Abroad Life? Check in every Friday at 9 A.M. (WAT) for a new episode. Until then, read every story of the series here.

  • 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.

    When we asked this week’s subject on Abroad Life why he left Nigeria, his response was, “Nigeria”. He talks about finding Poland as a cheap japa option, touring Europe on a Schengen visa and his anger at the lack of an African equivalent.

    Why did you decide to move abroad?

    Nigeria, man, Nigeria. Inflation, low standard of living, insecurity and fear everywhere. I’m just like every other young Nigerian who’d been talking about japa for years. I think something that stops many people from actually japa-ing is money, and it was my problem for a while too. Between 2019 and 2020, I decided to work and have some savings so I can actually start the process. 

    In 2020, I stumbled on a travel agent’s page and made inquiries about japa on a low budget. I wasn’t targeting the popular countries like the UK or Canada because I knew they were expensive. I wanted somewhere that would match my budget. 

    And that was Poland? 

    Yep. According to the agent, he had a 90% success rate with helping people move there. 

    I’m curious about how much you eventually spent

    Nothing more than ₦3.5m. I’m talking school fees, processing fees, flight money, and payment to the agent. 

    The easiest way to get a Schengen visa was by getting an admission here. I started the process in September 2020, and by March 2021, I was out. 

    Was that your first time outside Nigeria?

    Yep. 

    Expectations vs reality

    Before I travelled, my only idea of what abroad looked like was what I saw in movies and heard from family members who travelled. When I eventually came here myself, man, I was amazed. It just… isn’t Nigeria. You feel like you’re actually in a developed society. Beautiful buildings, great scenery, working transportation systems, everything is amazing here. 

    As I travel to other countries with my Schengen visa, I see more beauty and development, and I can’t get enough of it. I also didn’t realise I would meet many Nigerians everywhere I go. My thinking was that it’d be difficult to socialise because Nigerians are majorly in the UK, the US and Canada, and not so many elsewhere. 

    In my time here, I’ve been to Germany, Turkey, Spain and the Netherlands, and I’ve seen Nigerians and even Nigerian stores there. Bro, there are Nigerians in Lithuania. 

    I’ve also seen people of other countries. Beautiful women. It feels like I’ve been a bird in a box all my life, and now, I’ve been set free. 

    What type of Nigerians would I meet in Poland?

    Mostly students.

    Tell me about the Polish too

    When I first got here, my neighbours were older people, and it was difficult to communicate with them. The language barrier is usually a problem for people, and that’s why many Nigerians don’t come here. But I survive with Google Translate. 

    I eventually got a different apartment, where my neighbour was a 21-year-old Polish woman and she was super friendly because we could communicate. Apparently, people in the older generation don’t speak English and don’t really associate with foreigners, but younger people want to learn English because it’s seen as cool and trendy. 

    They’re generally nice people. Their women like African men. There are some racists, but my stance is that humans just tend to be discriminatory to people that are different from them. Even within Nigeria, there’s tribalism. So I try not to see racism as a big deal. 

    As I socialised, people began to tell me about how international students get depressed after some time in Poland, and how I could avoid it.

    Ah, tell me

    So because it’s a different economic system than people are used to, they struggle to keep up. Many people come here because the cost of living is lower than in the rest of Europe — their currency is one-quarter of the euro — but even with that, monthly payment of rent and other bills tend to put people in a bad place financially, and therefore, mentally, especially during winter. 

    I also know about people who move to the UK with the plan to survive by working multiple jobs, but it doesn’t work out so they end up being broke and unable to survive. Maybe it’s not just a Poland thing, after all. 

    How do you survive?

    I got a job online as a game tester. It pays me enough to pay bills and still have some money left to save and sometimes travel. Maybe people just don’t know, but getting decent jobs as a student here is not so difficult.

    How’s school?

    School has been online for me the entire time because of COVID. 

    Here, they don’t want you to fail. They teach pretty well, and if you fail an exam, you get the chance to retake it in a few weeks. The crazy part is that they’ll give you the same questions. 

    UNILAG is shaking. What’s your favourite part of moving? 

    Being able to access Europe with just my Schengen visa. It makes me sad to think that we require separate visas to travel to different places within Africa. Bro, I can wake up tomorrow and decide to take a $30 train to Berlin, stay in a cheap hotel for two days, go around the city sightseeing, and be back. I’d only spend like the naira equivalent of ₦50k in total. Do you know how amazing that is?

    God when o. Do you plan to stay there forever?

    I’d rather not because, like I said, the currency here is not great compared to other European countries. If I decide to stay here after my studies, I’d be earning much less than I could be. So the plan is to finish my studies in two years and move to a country with a better economy. It’s still early, but I’m thinking Canada.

    Hey there! My name is Sheriff and I’m the writer of Abroad Life. If you’re a Nigerian and you live or have lived abroad, I would love to talk to you about what that experience feels like and feature you on Abroad Life. All you need to do is fill out this short form, and I’ll be in contact.

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