Leaving Nigeria can solve some problems while introducing entirely new ones. You may find better infrastructure and more structured systems, but you may also encounter loneliness, discrimination, culture shock, and the uncomfortable feeling of being an outsider.
For Ejiro, who moved to the UK with his family in 2022, relocation was partly about hope for a better future. He spoke to FunTimes about why he left Nigeria, what surprised him about the UK and the mistakes he believes many Nigerians make when they first arrive.
What was life like for you before you moved to the UK?
Before moving to the UK, I worked as an account officer at a private firm in Lagos. My wife was the one who first suggested we relocate, and I bought into the idea. I was not comfortable with the direction things were going in Nigeria. The government situation, inflation, corruption, insecurity, and the general uncertainty about the future were major concerns. It felt like things were not getting any better. Eventually, my wife applied to come to the UK as a care worker, and I moved with her as her dependant in 2022.
What was it like starting again in a new country?
Moving abroad can be exciting, especially the thought of leaving what does not seem to be working for a place where systems are in place and also the prospects of earning in pounds. But starting again also makes you think deeply about yourself. You suddenly become more conscious of your identity, your culture, and how other people see you. Things that were completely normal to you back home may suddenly become things you have to explain. You can meet people who are curious about where you are from, but some people don’t know how to manage that curiosity without crossing boundaries. They want to know everything about you. Sometimes they ask questions that feel too personal, and they may also share information with you that you never asked for. As an immigrant, you can also encounter people who do not accept you for who you are or don’t care enough to understand you.
Did you experience any moments that made you think, “It can never be Nigeria”?
A few months in, I lost my debit card, and before I could even fully process that it was gone, I got a debit alert. The amount of money involved wasn’t huge, but it was still enough to solve one or two problems. I immediately raised a complaint with my bank, and the money was refunded within days. That experience really stood out to me because of how structured and responsive the process felt. There was a clear system for reporting and resolving the problem. In Nigeria, I would have probably gotten frustrated and wouldn’t have gotten a refund either. In Nigeria, we are always looking for someone who knows someone who can help us. Here, it is more like, “Follow the process.”
On the other hand, these people can do things that will make you question yourself. For instance, don’t bother greeting everyone you see on the streets, especially the oyinbos. You may say hello to someone, and they may give a funny smile and continue walking, and then you are left wondering whether you did something wrong.
Moving abroad is heavily glamorized. Beyond the working system, how has it affected your identity and your family?
Living abroad definitely makes you think more about your identity. One experience that affected me personally was watching my son try to change the way he spoke. When we first moved abroad, I noticed that he was making a conscious effort to change his accent. When I asked him why, he told me that people had been making fun of the way he spoke. He was trying to change his Nigerian accent so that he could fit in with his schoolmates. It got me thinking as a parent. As much as we want our children to integrate and feel comfortable in their new environment, we also don’t want them to feel ashamed of where they come from.
What’s your take on the pressure to send money back home?
When your first payslips come in, it is easy to feel rich, especially when you convert pounds into naira. Before you know it, people back home start asking for money, and you may begin to feel like everyone depends on you for survival. Of course, it is good to support family when you can, but you also have to be realistic. Migration doesn’t automatically make someone wealthy. In many cases, immigrants are working hard just to cover rent, transport, food, and other basic expenses. You have to settle yourself before carrying every other person’s burden.
What mistakes do Nigerians commonly make when they first arrive?
One of the biggest mistakes is spending as though you have already arrived. You start receiving salary, and you get a new phone, start buying designer clothes and shoes, and going on outings. I always tell people to relax, because the UK has plenty of bills waiting. The second is assuming Nigeria and the UK work the same way. Back home, it’s often “don’t worry, I know someone.” Here, it’s “please, you must follow the process.” The system is far more structured, and you cannot cut corners the way you might be used to. Another one people don’t talk about enough is assuming that because your colleagues smile at you at work, they genuinely love or care about you. That is not always what it means here. You have to be careful, especially with the oyinbos. They will smile and still report you.
Social media often makes relocation look like an escape from every problem. What is the reality?
Many Nigerians see relocation as the ultimate escape plan. They believe that once you leave Nigeria, all your problems disappear. But every country has its own challenges. Living abroad can offer better infrastructure, opportunities and a higher standard of living, but that doesn’t automatically protect you from loneliness, discrimination, culture shock or the feeling of being treated as an outsider. You can leave Nigeria and still struggle. You can be earning in pounds and still worry about bills. You can be surrounded by people and still feel like you don’t fully belong. That is the reality that social media doesn’t always show.
When immigrants talk about the difficult parts of living abroad, people often say, “If it’s that bad, why don’t you come back home?” What is your response?
Come back to what? I love Nigeria, but there’s nothing to come back to. Many Nigerians abroad still love Nigeria. It’s home; it’s where our families, our memories, our roots are. But many of the same issues that pushed us to leave in the first place, economic uncertainty, insecurity, unstable systems, limited opportunity, are still very much there. So you are caught between two difficult realities. Abroad, you are dealing with acceptance and belonging. Back home, you are worried about safety, stability, and whether there’s actually a future to build there. It’s a genuinely difficult position to be in, and I think that’s why so many of us endure things abroad we never imagined we would tolerate.
After everything you have experienced, do you regret leaving Nigeria?
I think migration has taught me that life is rarely as straightforward as people imagine. There are opportunities abroad, and many Nigerians are doing well. But the journey is not always glamorous. Before you pack your bags, prepare for more than the flight. Prepare to learn, adapt, budget, and start again.
