Omene Addeh ’21
Spring 2021
My interviewee, Kemi*, wished to remain anonymous, but she is a woman in her early twenties who moved to New York from Lagos, Nigeria in 2017. Below is her immigration story:
Q: What motivated you to move from Nigeria to the United States? How old were you when you moved?
A: Well, you’re Nigerian. You know how terrible our country is right now. Everything is getting worse: terrorism, tribalism, the economy, everything. Our president is a sociopath. The country is on the verge of a collapse and I don’t want to be there when it happens. I was 18 when I left; I left for university in the U.S. I chose the US because I got into an Ivy League university and my parents wouldn’t let me pass up that opportunity.
Q: Can you describe that process to me? How did you come to the United States and what was it like when you first got here? Was it different than you had imagined or expected it to be?
A: Well, I had to apply for a student visa which was surprisingly a really rigorous process. The people interviewing me acted like I was some kind of criminal. But I ended up getting the visa and moving here. I flew to New York in time for orientation week. I remember feeling really giddy and ready for a new chapter. New York is what I imagined but America as a whole is not really what I imagined at all. There’s so much poverty here. It feels like a really daft thing to say because there’s poverty everywhere but when you’re in Nigeria, America really feels like some kind of promised land. And I guess that’s true for some people but it’s definitely not true for everyone. Another thing is that I knew that racism was a big thing here, but I didn’t expect to feel so conscious of my race all the time. That was really surprising.
Q: Did you have friends or family already living in the U.S.? If so did they help you get settled in any way? If not, were there others who helped you when you first arrived?
A: Well, I have you (laughs) but you live in another city. I also have family in the DMV but we’re not close. My Aunt calls me every once in a blue moon but that’s it. I pretty much figured everything out with my university’s international student office and other Nigerian students at my school who had emigrated here before me.
Q: Can you tell me a little bit about the neighborhood that you lived in when you first moved to the U.S.? Was it different than where you had lived in Nigeria? Were there things you liked or didn’t like about it compared to where you had been living before?
A: Sure, I live on the Upper West Side in New York. It’s a very quiet, bougie-adjacent neighborhood. A lot of college students and professors. Not too many Black people—I have to go into Harlem for that—but pretty diverse as a whole. Where I live now is definitely different from where I lived in Lagos. For one, I lived in a house that was protected by a fence and a gate. New York is all apartment buildings and high-rises so there’s way less privacy. The weather is also a big thing, too. I struggle with seasonal depression every year. New York and Lagos are obviously very different cities but they are similar in ways that are very important to me. The first thing is that they are both full of crazy people. Everyone is free to be as eccentric as they please. The second thing is that everyone is hustling—I love that about New York. It reminds me of home.
Q: Can you tell me about any challenges that you may have faced as a new immigrant? Did you ever feel homesick or have any doubts about your decision to migrate?
A: Oh, I feel homesick all the time. It was really bad during my first year here but it has gotten better. I really wish Nigeria was a functional country because there’s nothing like home. I miss my parents. I’m an only child so I’m very close with my parents. I miss how familiar everything is back home. I miss how warm and outgoing everyone is. I miss not having my race being the most defining thing about me. I just miss home. It can be hard to be an immigrant, but I consider myself lucky because New York is full of immigrants. Adjusting to American culture and social norms took some time, especially because Nigeria is so socially conservative in comparison. But I’ve gotten the hang of things, I think. It hasn’t been easy but I never doubt my decision to migrate, not for a second. Nigeria is the pits. It’s disintegrating right before our eyes and our so-called leaders do not care. They don’t care at all. There’s no place like home but I will never be delusional enough to believe that I have a future there. Even my parents have told me that I should never come back, except to visit.
Q: Do you still visit Nigeria? What does it feel like to go back?
A: Yes, I visit once a year around Christmas. It’s weird because I see myself getting more and more American each year. I’m fully an IJGB now [acronym for “I Just Got Back,” a Nigerian colloquial term for Nigerians in the diaspora who come back to visit]. Going back home is always an emotional rollercoaster. I’m happy to be around my family and friends and December in Lagos is always a fun time. But it’s also depressing because it’s like the overall health country gets worse and worse each year. And I have a lot of love for Nigeria deep down so it’s depressing to see.
I think I see America for what it is now, with the good and bad. There are a lot of opportunities here but there is also a lot of inequality. I guess that’s life; you take the good with the bad.
Q: What kinds of ideas did you have about Americans or the United States before you came here? Have your ideas about this country changed over time?
A: Most of my perceptions about America came from Twitter. I saw Americans as very funny, hedonistic, politically correct people. Some of that has been true, particularly the hedonism. And I don’t say that in a bad way—life is for enjoying. I also saw the U.S. as a kind of utopia. And while it offers a much better quality of life than Nigeria, that really isn’t true. I think I see America for what it is now, with the good and bad. There are a lot of opportunities here but there is also a lot of inequality. I guess that’s life; you take the good with the bad.
Q: What sort of perceptions do Americans have about people from Nigeria? Do you feel that people really understand who you are and where you came from? If there was one thing that you could teach Americans about your home country, what would it be?
A: Black Panther came out a couple of months after I got here and it was a whole thing. People were really interested in Africa and where I come from. I told them to follow me on Instagram and watch my story highlights from Lagos (laughs). I don’t feel like people understand me and where I come from. It feels like Americans either think that we live like animals in the jungle or that we’re a futuristic Black utopia. There’s no in-between. I’d want Americans to know that we’re just like them. Social media like Twitter has created a global culture, especially among young people, so we’re honestly quite alike. We all binge the same shows on Netflix, listen to the same artists, do the same shit. Some of us just have more stable governments and economies than others.
Q: Do you feel like this country is welcoming to immigrants? Why or why not?
A: I think Americans are generally quite welcoming to immigrants. At least the ones I’ve come across, but mind you, I live in New York. I have never felt discriminated against in an interpersonal interaction due to my immigrant status. That being said, the American government is a different story. It is so hard to get permanent residency here. Like, unreasonably hard. You just feel like you’re in a limbo and now that I’m about to graduate from university, I have so much anxiety around it. I’m actually seriously thinking about getting a master’s degree in Canada and relocating there because their process is so much more straightforward.
Q: Do you feel at home in the U.S.?
A: No, I always feel like an outsider. My name is different, my accent is different, and most importantly, my passport is different. People don’t treat me badly but it’s pretty clear that I’m a foreigner.
Q: Would you like to stay in the U.S. or do you think you’d ever move somewhere else?
A: I’m pretty sure I’m going to move to Canada. It has a much more straightforward path to permanent residency and their political scene is less toxic. I mean, they definitely have their problems. Their government treats the indigenous people terribly. But overall, I feel like it’s better.
Q: Has it been easy for you to find a job in the U.S.? Do you think that there are good opportunities in this country? Does the idea of the “American Dream” make sense to you?
A: No, it hasn’t been easy, and the pandemic probably hasn’t helped. I do have a few job offers after hustling my ass off but I will probably turn them down and move to Canada. I definitely think there are opportunities in America but if you don’t have the right immigration status, they are harder to get. Unfairly so, in my opinion. The idea of the “American Dream” does make sense to me in theory but I’m not sure how viable it is today. It’s definitely still possible, I think, but a lot harder. My family who moved here in the 80s had a much easier time getting papers. Everything was also much cheaper. But then again, people weren’t as accepting back then so maybe I’m just making excuses. It genuinely does feel out of reach, though.
Q: You’ve been living in this country now for approximately 4 years. Do you see yourself as an American?
A: I definitely don’t see myself as an American (laughs). For one, I’m not a citizen. And with the way their immigration system is set up, I probably never will be. I also don’t blend in with Americans. Like I said, my name and accent give me away as a foreigner pretty quickly. I also don’t have any sense of American nationalism. I don’t support their foreign policy, or much of their domestic policy for that matter. And I think their two-party system is quite inefficient, though I’m in no place to judge because Nigeria is barely a democracy (laughs).
That being said, I don’t feel fully Nigerian anymore either. I see myself as a Nigerian in America or a Nigerian in the diaspora. If I were to return home, I would feel slightly out of place. Definitely not as much as I do in the U.S., but it’s clear that I have privileges that a Nigerian who never left Nigeria doesn’t have. I have an American education, American work experience, and an American network. For better or for worse, these things hold power. So while my American immigration experience wasn’t wholly successful [because I won’t be staying here permanently], I definitely gained a lot from my time here. There’s no denying that.