Real Stories: I sold my father’s land to japa, now I want to come back home

My father died in 2018, however I’m beginning to assume he have to be delivering his grave.

That land in Ikorodu meant every thing to him. He used to speak about it prefer it was gold. “At some point,” he’d say, “this land can be your backup in life.” I didn’t know I’d find yourself cashing in that “backup” simply to flee this nation.

I used to be 27, jobless, and drained. Nothing was working. Each job I utilized for both ghosted me or provided to pay hen change like I used to be a joke. My mom was managing her store, my siblings had been trying as much as me, and I felt like I used to be drowning in disappointment.

Japa fever was in all places. Canada. UK. Germany. Folks I went to highschool with had been posting snow photos and grasp’s levels. And right here I used to be, urgent cellphone all day, surviving on gala and indomie.

So I made the choice. I offered the land.

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It was nonetheless in my dad’s title, however nobody within the household was checking. I instructed my mum I wanted it to “begin a enterprise.” I even faked a mortgage rejection letter to persuade her. After I offered it, I obtained ₦7.8 million. I paid an agent ₦2.5 million to course of my examine visa for Canada. I used the remainder to “bundle” myself and obtained my proof of funds, winter jacket, laptop computer, the entire works.

I bear in mind crying when my visa got here out. I believed, “Lastly. God has achieved it.”

But when there’s one factor I’ve discovered the laborious method, it’s that Canada is just not paradise. I arrived in Ontario in January. The chilly slapped me into actuality. My “faculty” was some small faculty in a forgotten city. Lodging? A shared basement with 5 different Nigerians. Work? Nothing. My examine hours restricted how a lot I might earn, and the one job I discovered was cleansing workplaces from 11 p.m. to 4 a.m.

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Some days, I walked residence within the freezing chilly as a result of I couldn’t afford bus fare. I missed home-cooked meals. I missed my mom’s voice. I missed Nigeria, the identical nation I cursed each day earlier than I left.

After which the agent referred to as me, “Your steadiness is due.” That’s when it hit me: I used to be broke, alone, and caught.

Now, I consider that land each day. The land my father cleared together with his arms. The one he used to stroll round with satisfaction, saying, “That is for my kids.” And I offered it… for a dream that’s now a burden.

I need to come again. However how do I face my mom? How do I inform my siblings that the land is gone? That their inheritance was spent on expired goals?

I japa’d to discover a higher life. However now, all I need is residence.

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