Most Nigerians have imaginations of what life abroad looks like: fine houses, 24/7 electricity, clean streets, and a life where things simply work. But the first shock of migration is discovering that abroad has its own problems. The kind that they won’t show you on Instagram or TikTok. The kind that humbles you quietly.
Eunice left Nigeria in December 2022 with hope, a student visa, and dreams of a fresh start. What she met instead was a crowded apartment, winter cold, and the realization that abroad is not always a soft life, at least not at first.
Why the UK, and not somewhere else?
Honestly, the UK wasn’t my first choice; it was just the one that worked. I tried Canada first, but my visa was denied twice. The UK’s student route was quicker to secure compared to what I was dealing with trying to get into Canada, so I decided to try that instead, and that is how I found myself here.
What was it like when you first arrived?
Tough is an understatement of what I went through. I stayed with a friend when I got here, in a two-bedroom apartment that already had six adults living in it. I didn’t have my own space, and the house was already crowded, so I slept on the floor in the living room on one of those inflatable mattresses. This was during winter, so it was cold and hard to endure, but I didn’t have much choice at the time. Some nights, I would lie there unable to sleep and quietly ask myself, “So this is abroad?” Sometimes, I would think about all the comfort I had left behind in Nigeria. My salary back home wasn’t huge, but I was not sleeping on the floor. I had a bed. Truly, this was not the abroad life I had expected.
Did those first few weeks make you question your decision to leave Nigeria?
Yeah. When you are in Nigeria, and you see people abroad posting pictures, it can look like everything is perfect. You imagine that once you get there, you will immediately have your own apartment, a good job and a comfortable life. Then you arrive and realize that you have to start from scratch. I had to find a job quickly because I wanted to afford my own place. I just wanted my own space. At that point, I was ready to do almost any kind of work.
My first job was a cleaning role. I cleaned an office building every day from 5pm to 8pm. It wasn’t physically demanding, as I was the only one in the building at the time, and the offices were not so dirty. The first week, after cleaning, I would wash the dirty mugs people left in the sink, but they told me to stop and leave them as they were. So my work was easy, but I hated the hours because it meant going in every single day. Even on days I had lectures, my course mates would be heading home happily while I was rushing off to go clean. Despite going every day, it was just 15 hours.
I later got another job in hospitality, which made up the rest of my 20 hours. I sold snacks at a stadium during games. I worked every Saturday from 12pm to 5pm. Even when you didn’t feel like smiling, you had to smile, say “cheers” and “thank you” to customers. Eventually, I got a job with a care agency. I worked twice a week, with each shift lasting 10 hours. That job gave me some breathing space because I knew I only had two days of work each week. It wasn’t like the cleaning job where I had to go every day and spend so much time taking the bus there and back, especially because the workplace wasn’t close to my home.
How difficult was it financially as an international student?
It was tight. With the 20-hour-per-week work limit, I could hardly make £1,000 a month. Then you have rent, which could take about £500 from that small salary, and rent here is paid monthly, not yearly like back home. You still have to buy groceries, pay for transportation, and take care of your other personal needs. By the end of the month, I had little to nothing left. I thank God I had paid my school fees in full before coming because I don’t know how I would have survived. I had coursemates who borrowed money to pay their fees and were still paying off their debts until they graduated.
People back home often assume that earning in pounds automatically means you are doing well. What would you say to that?
That assumption is just wrong. People back home don’t understand that the UK can humble somebody very fast. Between rent, transport, council tax, electricity bills, and food, the money moves fast, and it is not moving in your favour half the time. As you are making the money, the system is somehow collecting it back. So, yes, you are earning pounds, but you are also spending pounds. The conversion to naira can make it look like you’re earning a fortune, but it doesn’t work that way when you live here.
What do you think about how social media portrays life abroad?
I always tell people, “Believe social media at your own risk.” Many immigrants you see looking happy and put-together online are privately dealing with stress, debt, anxiety, and just trying to survive. As you are making the money, the system is somehow collecting it back, one way or another. People need to understand that moving abroad doesn’t automatically solve their problems.
Despite everything, do you feel like the experience has changed you for the better?
My journey so far has taught me resilience, discipline, and how to survive on my own terms. Over time, you adapt to life abroad, and you start appreciating small achievements you probably wouldn’t have noticed back home. My life is much better now. I have a good job that gives me time to rest and do other things, and when I’m bored, I pick up extra shifts to make more money, although the more you earn here, the more you get taxed, so it’s a balance. But I can comfortably afford my own place now. I have savings too, which is something I struggled to do consistently back in Nigeria. I eat healthier as well, because food here is cheaper for certain things. In Nigeria, fruits like kiwi, strawberries, and even grapes were a luxury I couldn’t really afford. Here, I walk into a shop and buy them like it’s nothing. I’m also able to send money home now, which means a lot to me.
Do the UK’s changing immigration policies and the growing anti-immigrant rhetoric worry you?
It creates a bit of uncertainty because the policies keep changing, and you never really know what they will come up with next or how it will affect you. But I try not to let myself worry about it constantly. If anything changes in the future, I will deal with it when it happens. I can’t spend my life worrying about what might happen.
Would you ever consider returning to Nigeria?
I am not particularly keen on returning to Nigeria permanently at this moment, but I might change my mind in the future. However, if one day they say I have to leave the UK and return to my country, I will pack my bags and go. Or I will find another country that will accept me.
Looking back, do you regret leaving Nigeria?
No. The beginning might have been difficult, and there were moments when I questioned everything and wondered if I had made the right decision. But when I look at where I am now, I can see the growth. I am grateful for where I am at the moment.
Read also: “I paid for a skilled worker visa and met a huge shock when I arrived in the UK”
