Two years after he left Nigeria, Mujeeb* still marvels at the change of circumstances that made his relocation possible.
He shares how an old friend was instrumental to his relocation journey and how he plans to pay the kindness forward to friends who are still trying to japa.
As told to Adeyinka
It feels like a dream whenever I think about how I made it out of Nigeria. How do you explain someone you haven鈥檛 seen in over 20 years giving you money to support your japa plans and pulling strings in your favour?
Tunde and I went to the same secondary school. He was my seat partner for most of my senior secondary school years, and I won鈥檛 say I liked him much. When we were in SS1, I thought we could be friends, but we had different interests. He loved football and always taunted me, calling me a 鈥渨oman鈥 because I didn鈥檛 like any sports.
He was also part of a clique that considered themselves the school鈥檚 鈥渂ig boys鈥. Whenever he was with them, I couldn鈥檛 relate to him. So I decided there was no need to pursue a serious friendship.
We graduated from secondary school in 2009, and he moved to the US. He constantly shared pictures on Facebook. I went through his timeline, but I never sent a friend request. I assumed he wouldn鈥檛 accept or be condescending towards me because I was still in Nigeria.
I didn鈥檛 want anyone to make me feel that way, so I observed from a distance. As the years went by, he didn鈥檛 post about his life as much, and I also wasn鈥檛 as interested in keeping up with him. I had my life to live in Nigeria.
In 2017, I got a WhatsApp notification that I鈥檇 been added to an alumni group. Honestly, I wanted to leave the group immediately because the previous alumni groups ended in disaster. Some people were still as shallow as they were in school; some just wanted to brag and others were there to observe.
However, there was an interesting conversation in the group that morning about one of our teachers, and everyone had funny memories to share. I had my share of experiences, so I stayed back and joined the conversation. It was hard to say who was who because most of us didn鈥檛 have our numbers saved, but you could tell some of the numbers were international.
Then, out of the blue, one of the international numbers asked, 鈥淚s Segun Oni in this group?鈥 I checked the display picture to see who it was, but the person鈥檚 profile picture was an artwork. So I responded with, 鈥淲ho鈥檚 asking?鈥
The response was, 鈥淵our seat partner.鈥
Then he sent me a personal message. Even though it had been years, my memories of Tunde from school came rushing back, and I was somewhat guarded in our conversation. It also didn鈥檛 help that he asked questions like, 鈥淪o what do you do now?鈥 鈥淎re you married?鈥 鈥淲here do you work?鈥
The questions felt intrusive, and a part of me assumed he was trying to size me up. I answered as honestly as I could without sharing more than necessary. He went on about life abroad and shared more than I asked. I was thankful when he said he had to go to work.
After that interaction, I kept my distance because my memories of him were still tied to how he treated me in school. We bantered occasionally in the group, and sometimes, he diverted the conversation to our personal chat.
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The truth is I didn鈥檛 understand where the sudden overfamiliarity came from. Did he forget how annoying he was in school? Did he think we were buddies? I couldn鈥檛 tell, and I was getting tired of playing along.
Meanwhile, I actively pursued my japa dreams. Two of my friends from uni had relocated to the UK through the education route, and another had gone through the job route. Other friends were in various stages of planning their relocation, and it was only a matter of time before I caught the japa fever.
The problem was I didn鈥檛 have the money to cure the fever. My mum had retired and couldn鈥檛 sponsor a master鈥檚 abroad on her monthly pension. My job at the time paid 鈧120k, and I had a strict 鈧80k monthly savings goal. Friends said they spent around 鈧3 – 5m. Twitter japa influencers constantly put out scary figures, and I only had 鈧1.6m saved.
But it didn鈥檛 stop me from applying to schools. I was always posting Twitter japa content on my WhatsApp status and lamenting the financial implications. When I wasn鈥檛 posting about japa, I lamented Buhari鈥檚 government and how the rest of us in Nigeria were in trouble.
One day, Tunde responded and seemed genuinely concerned. He asked how bad the situation was. I went into a full-on epistle about it. His genuine interest soon turned to monosyllabic responses, and I thought I鈥檇 messed up. The thing with people abroad is when you talk about problems too much, they assume you want to ask for money. And the smart ones know how to cut you off before you get to that point.
I cringed at the thought of Tunde putting me in that box, so I blocked him from viewing my status. With him blocked, there was hardly any opportunity for random conversations.
Fast forward to 2021, we had one of those random moments on the alumni WhatsApp group, and Tunde was in my DMs again. We texted, and he asked how my relocation plans were going. I gave a 鈥淲e thank God鈥 type response because I didn鈥檛 see how it was his concern. I鈥檇 secured a UK admission at the time and was actively looking to pay the 拢4,000 deposit. I think it was around 鈧2.2m.
Even though I didn鈥檛 give him any important details, something about him asking about my plans seemed genuine, so I unblocked him on WhatsApp. Besides, I鈥檇 stopped talking about japa because I wanted to move in silence.
One day, Tunde called on WhatsApp. He must鈥檝e been bored, but the call came when I could also use some banter. We reminisced about school, and he had a lot to say about the times I came through for him during exams. Until that call, I didn鈥檛 remember that part of our history. Tunde wasn鈥檛 the brightest student in class, but it hardly reflected in his grades because I didn鈥檛 have issues helping him out.
The conversation eventually turned to relocation again. I needed help at that point even though he was the last person I wanted to unload my financial burdens on. But since he was asking and had asked before, I gave him a rundown of everything. How I鈥檇 used up all my savings to pay the deposit, how I needed Proof of Funds and didn鈥檛 know how to sort the rest of the tuition, accommodation or flight tickets. It was a lot to dump on someone abroad who鈥檚 probably avoiding billing, but I spared no details since he was bent on knowing.
What happened in the weeks that followed still blows my mind. Like how Portable says, 鈥淲ho go help you no go stress you.鈥
Tunde spoke with his dad on my behalf, and the man funded my account with the 鈧10m POF I needed without any charge. That was a huge relief because individuals were asking for ridiculous sums. But that wasn鈥檛 what blew my mind. After that call, Tunde asked for my bank account and continued to ask for updates. I鈥檇 share the latest with him, and he鈥檇 offer to help seek second opinions from his network.
Then one weekend, two months before I travelled, I received a 鈧3.5m credit alert on my phone. I鈥檇 been expecting something from Tunde since he asked for my account, but the amount drove me mad with excitement. Almost immediately, I got a message from Tunde on WhatsApp. It was a transaction receipt and an apology for not doing more. In my head, I was like, 鈥淲hat do you mean not doing more?鈥 鈧3.5m in Buhari鈥檚 economy? That鈥檚 still the highest sum I鈥檝e gotten from anyone, and I don鈥檛 know if anyone can top it.
After the huge donation, he helped with other things until I arrived abroad. Honestly, I doubt my relocation would鈥檝e worked out that year if he hadn鈥檛 come through at the exact time he did. I would鈥檝e most likely deferred to another year.
Weirdly, I can鈥檛 say our friendship has moved from point A to B. I tried to invest more time and energy in the friendship after he came through for me, but he鈥檚 not been forthcoming. We text haphazardly and have occasional lengthy calls. Whatever the case, I鈥檓 indebted to him.
A lot of my friends are still in Nigeria, and I know relocation has become more capital-intensive. Hopefully, I can pay the kindness forward in the future.
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