It may have been a move I would have considered as a young, unmarried girl free from responsibilities and encumbrances.
But as I write this, I am a 39-year-old embracing the unknown, having recently relocated to a different country, leaving my beloved Nigeria, family, friends and the comfort of the familiar environment where I had spent the last 30-plus years of my life to start anew in a strange country.
I love my country of birth, and I never dreamt of trading my citizenship for another nor willingly taking up the name — “immigrant”. I loved everything Nigerian because it had been my home for 39 years.
I was not widely travelled and was sometimes very naive in my thoughts and ways, yet this place I called my homeland, the allure of my home country, kept me enraptured in its embrace.
I loved our diverse culture, mouthwatering cuisine, genuine warmth exuded by our people, our indomitable entrepreneurial spirit, unwavering pursuit of excellence, and the good weather! Fair, friendly and inviting all year long! My mum always says that Nigeria is the best place on earth, and the location was specially created by God with love. Despite all these, I left for another country.
Do I question my journey?
Do I regret my experience?
How did I get here?
I sometimes pause to squeeze my skin into reality, but I always realise that all these are as real as the back of my hands.
I remember how this journey began. It was a conscious decision.
It started with a dream many years ago. A dream to attend one of the most prestigious universities in the world. I dreamt of networking, ideating and collaborating with people from different cultures and understanding how to successfully create value that will impact the lives of people I may never meet. It was a big dream of a poor, naive girl who barely struggled to acquire a first degree; the dream metamorphosed as the months grew to years and years turned into a decade.
As with many average Nigerians from working-class homes, some unspoken responsibilities and expectations were required of me immediately after I completed my first degree.
In my region and upbringing, it was normal to support your siblings/family as soon as you were financially able. So, It was assumed that I would leave my aspirations on the back burner and cater to them later when my immediate responsibilities were settled. This expectation hung around my neck like a debtor’s chain.
So, upon completing my first degree, I secured a job and started fulfilling these responsibilities. Next came the societal expectations of starting my family, which were subtle and implied expectations that hung above every young woman.
Slowly but surely, I relegated my dreams to oblivion and began chasing a career to increase my earnings, support my siblings, and start a family of my own. Very often, I felt like I was forgoing my dreams for the demands of the roles that life placed on me.
I saw it as a cycle, and I hated it until it became a reality (a good one for me): “go to school, cater to the family, get married, and start your family.” This cycle unconsciously pulled at me, and no matter how much I fought, it eventually succeeded.
But as it is said, life had an unexpected twist in store for me — one that led to a new path in a different land but ultimately to achieving my dreams.
Time flew by, and fifteen years later, I became a successful career woman. Despite this achievement, I still had the burning desire to explore my intellectual capital, experience ideating with people from diverse climes, and even attempt to create some innovation. It consumed my being and made the height I attained in my career pale compared to the big dream my heart yearned for.
My dreams didn’t consider my present reality – a mother of three, a career woman and one on the verge of clocking the big forty. It created an intense desire in me that spurred me to action.
Eventually, I took the first step of researching top schools and wrote out many lengthy applications for admissions and another set for scholarships. I stayed up late many nights to beat deadlines, yet I still showed up bright-eyed for work the next day while still delivering on my responsibilities as a mother.
Some may argue that I was throwing away fifteen years of career advancement to attend a school. I argue otherwise. It is often said that our lives are a continuum and our experiences are intertwined. They flow into one another, and past experiences hold treasure troves for future events.
These words proved themselves in my process. The scholarships I won were not a result of academic prowess but my previous track record of growth and successes in my career and the women-empowerment social enterprise where I volunteered. Those fifteen were pivotal in building character and capacity and instilling invaluable wisdom that helped me through this journey.
As a mother totally in love with the company of my kids, I decided to take them with me for a full-time course without understanding the full implications of my decision. I shrugged off the many suggestions to leave them behind and focus on how I would survive a year without my “roommates”, as I fondly called them. So, my kids were co-opted into supporting their Mom in achieving her dream. That’s how an unplanned family relocation started taking shape as a puzzle in a jigsaw.
Incidentally, my decision to travel coincided with a time when countless Nigerians left our homeland for different countries due to the dire economic conditions. It was a massive exodus, a flight of talent, and the terms “brain-drain” and “Japa” were coined to describe this phenomenon. Unbeknownst to me, I was inadvertently caught up in the tide and unintentionally grouped with those seeking a better future in foreign lands — ‘Japa-ing’.
Amidst the chaos and uncertainty, I began another phase in a new country! A humbling experience filled with challenges, growth, and self-discovery.
To be continued…
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