After leaving Nigeria in 2020, she believed she was securing a better future for her young daughter. Today, living in Berlin, she says the very child who pushed her to migrate has become the reason she wants to return home.

In an interview with Zikoko, the Nigerian professional explained that her decision to leave was shaped by a deep sense of hopelessness about the country’s prospects, a feeling shared by many young Nigerians. As a single mother at the time, the fear became urgent when her three-year-old daughter excitedly shouted “Up NEPA,” a phrase associated with Nigeria’s unstable power supply. Hearing it, she said, felt like watching the same struggles repeat themselves across generations. Within a year, she relocated to Germany.

She had been working as a travel consultant, escorting clients across borders to help them navigate immigration processes. Although she had travelled extensively across Europe, Germany was not part of her original plan. A business partner there offered her a sponsored freelance opportunity, which seemed like a viable pathway to settling legally. She arrived just days before the COVID-19 pandemic triggered border closures across Europe.

The tourism industry collapsed almost overnight. The agency downsized, starting with its newest hires, and she lost both her job and the visa sponsorship tied to it. Her savings quickly diminished under euro-denominated living costs, and she began receiving official letters instructing her to leave Germany once borders reopened. Returning to Nigeria was not an option, she said, having sold her belongings and dismantled her business to migrate.

After seeking legal help, she was granted a Duldung, or tolerated stay, a temporary humanitarian permit that suspended deportation. During that uncertain period, she focused on rebuilding. Unable to afford expensive English-language degree programmes, she committed to learning German to the advanced level required for tuition-free university courses. She narrowly passed the language exam and gained admission into an MBA programme, while also securing a remote marketing role with a Malaysian company to support herself and her family back home.

Nearly six years later, her life is stable on paper. She has completed her master’s degree, secured a government job in Germany, retained her remote role, married, and had another child. Yet she says stability has not translated into contentment, particularly when it comes to raising her children.

Her daughter’s early schooling initially went well in an international kindergarten, but primary school exposed what she describes as a harsher reality. As the only Black child in her school, her daughter became socially isolated in a system she says is deeply segregated. For her, the racism she hoped to escape by leaving Nigeria had resurfaced in a different and more damaging form.

Her own experiences during her MBA reinforced these concerns. She recounted repeated difficulties securing academic interviews, challenges her white classmates did not face. In one case, she said a professor subjected her group—made up entirely of non-white students—to unusually harsh scrutiny during a presentation on Dangote Group, questioning both their work and the legitimacy of an African industrial giant. When she challenged what she perceived as bias, she said the response left her isolated from her peers.

Outside work and study, she describes life in Berlin as emotionally distant. Social connections are limited, and even everyday spaces such as playgrounds feel unwelcoming. Church and family provide comfort, but she says there is little sense of community beyond that.

She met her husband, a German businessman, through a dating app and describes him as emotionally supportive and culturally open. His presence, she says, influenced how she was treated during pregnancy and healthcare interactions. Despite this, she believes she received more compassionate maternity care in Nigeria and would choose to give birth there again if given the option.

A recent visit to Nigeria strengthened her resolve to return. While she was shocked by rising living costs, she was struck by the warmth of family life and how easily her daughter bonded with cousins and neighbourhood children. Her husband, she said, also connected deeply with Nigerian culture and business life.

She now plans to relocate back to Nigeria, possibly within the next year. She intends to keep her remote foreign-currency job while restarting her travel consultancy to help young Nigerians migrate with clearer expectations. Her biggest concern is insecurity, but she believes the benefits outweigh the risks.

“In Germany, the system only wants you to be average,” she said. “In Nigeria, my children will learn resilience and drive.”

Asked to rate her happiness in Germany outside of her family life, she described it as low, adding that while the journey shaped her life in unexpected ways, it also taught her that migration does not guarantee belonging.

Source: Adapted from an interview published by Zikoko (www.zikoko.com)