When Corporate Baddie (@oluwafaderaremi) landed in Georgia with her Nigerian passport, she expected the usual routine at border control: a quick check, a few questions, and a stamp of approval. Instead, what unfolded left her unsettled and questioning the hidden weight her #passport carried.

“At first, everything seemed routine,” she wrote on X (formerly Twitter). “But the moment the immigration officer saw my passport, his attitude changed.”

What followed was a series of probing questions, a referral to another room, and a full-body scan, despite her providing every supporting document — from hotel bookings and return flights to insurance and a passport packed with travel stamps. Eventually, she was allowed through without explanation or apology.

Georgia turned out to be beautiful, she admitted, but the encounter at the border remained etched in her memory.

Her story has since sparked conversations among Nigerians abroad, with many sharing their own experiences of being subjected to additional scrutiny, delays, and sometimes humiliation while travelling.

“It’s the Passport, Not Racism”

For some, the issue is clear-cut.

“I tell people if only more Nigerians in Nigeria would travel more, they would understand how bad it is for us,” wrote @kvngklaus. “And no, it’s not racism, it’s the passport. I told myself at a young age that none of my kids would have that passport as long as Nigerians are not ready to fix it.”

Another respondent, Zaki Vensen, argued that the blame lies not with leadership alone but with the actions of some Nigerians abroad.

“You think Nigerian passport holders are profiled in Thailand and Dubai because Tinubu is in power? Other African countries also have bad leaders. Leadership has nothing to do with this. It’s the people abroad who are into crime and drugs that are responsible.”

A Lonely Traveller’s Burden

Others highlighted that Nigerians travelling solo are often treated with suspicion.

“This is so disheartening,” said Olalekan Joseph. “Apparently, a single traveller with a Nigerian passport is considered a potential flight risk. It isn’t frequent for people that travel in groups or as a couple.”

The sentiment was echoed by others who shared similar experiences.

“I visited in 2022 for just three days to celebrate the New Year,” recalled Ola Michael. “I was singled out, pulled from the queue, and asked where my laptop was for ‘work’ — just because I’m Nigerian.”

Another traveller, Yemi Ṣiyè, summed up her encounter in Georgia last week simply: “I saw shege at Border Control.”

Beyond Georgia – A Global Experience

From Morocco to Dubai, Nigerians say the experience is far from isolated.

“This was me in Morocco,” said Richy Datson. “I was explaining for like two hours despite having all necessary documents because ‘further checks’ were required.”

Another, Ifeski, recalled a group trip to Georgia where being prepared did little to ease the scrutiny:

“We were very much prepared for them. That didn’t stop them from keeping us on the queue for close to an hour. The long queue literally faded before our eyes.”

Coping With the Scrutiny

While the reasons for such treatment are debated — ranging from global perceptions of Nigerians to the reputation of the passport itself — travellers continue to adapt with resilience.

“Travelling with just a Nigerian passport is not just about movement,” wrote Corporate Baddie. “It’s about endurance, resilience, and holding your composure even when you shouldn’t have to.”

For those planning international travel, she offers practical advice:
• Carry both printed and digital copies of all bookings and insurance.
• Be confident about your travel history and itinerary.
• Expect questioning and possible delays.
• Stay calm, no matter how uncomfortable the situation becomes.

A Shared Struggle

The thread has become a collective diary of Nigerian travel experiences — a reminder that behind every stamp on a passport lies not just adventure, but also endurance.

As one commenter, Eddie, put it: “Sorry this happened to you. But you can’t blame them, na our people spoil the country’s image. What people do illegally affects others.”

For many Nigerians, these border encounters are more than inconveniences; they are constant reminders of the heavy burden carried by a green passport — a burden that shapes how they see the world, and how the world sees them.