When you’re an over-achieving young professional trying to forge a Zuckerberg-esque career, the world is your oyster. At the tender age of 18, with 3As under my A-Level belt, I was prepared to attend the university of my dreams, even more so to pompously turn down my safety options. Plot twist: Life threw me a curve ball when I only got into my safeties. My parents somewhat ‘forced’ me into taking a gap year, to which I lamented about not being with my peers and experiencing uni for the first time with them; horrified at the thought of doing a cliché Thailand full moon gap year trip. However, deciding to take a year off was the best thing I could have done.
The year to do whatever I pleased exposed a fearless penchant I had for travel – not for holidaying, but to live and immerse myself in new cultures. I worked in London for half the year, and went to the Sorbonne University in Paris for the rest. Yes, during my gap year I actually went to university to do a course (weirdo!).
I felt a huge sense of dissatisfaction when I had to face reality and start my Undergrad at Durham university, in Northern England. There, I faced my first true experience of racism when some chavs threw an empty beer can at me out of a car window and screamed “GO HOME N****R!”, to which I bemusedly kept walking, minding my own business. I wasn’t raised to consider myself a minority so I was truly unbothered by the exchange. Although I loved my course, I simply didn’t feel like I fit in (a seemingly ongoing trend in my life that I have learnt to embrace wholeheartedly); so I decided to chase my dreams and apply for a degree at the Sorbonne. As soon as I was accepted, I finished my first year at Durham, packed my bags and moved back to Paris. It was as simple as that.
The next phase in my life saw many set-backs. Used to being top of my class in practically everything (especially French), I suddenly found myself receiving less than 10% in assignments, with a teacher asking me “Is this a joke or did you take this seriously?”. Needless to say, attending the Oxford University of France, doing a degree entirely in French and being graded as a native French speaker was challenging; but it was mychallenge. Suddenly getting 60% was a fist pumping moment, as I learned to scale my idea of ‘success’ to a realistic view (following numerous near breakdowns and – dare I say – one failed semester). As a socialist country, graduation was extremely underwhelming, largely because it was non-existent and I received my degree in the mail…With an envelope and stamp I paid for myself. After 5 years, Paris had lost its charm. It was time to move on…
My best friend had relocated to Israel, and in a bid for some out-of-the-box work experience I decided to make it my next location. Naturally, months before I relocated, my friend’s company collapsed and she moved back to London. No bother though, I’ve never turned down a challenge before, so why start now? With 5 foreign sim cards and 4 international bank accounts, I felt like a citizen of the world. Similar to my initial experience in Paris, I fell in love with the Tel Avivian culture; every day was a party, everyone was so welcoming, and the weather was a major plus. 3 years in and with Israel being on the brink of another war, the restless feeling is creeping back in. Where do I go next? Should I settle down somewhere? Where do I forge my roots? Where is “home”? Will I even be happy at home, or am I just a travelling gypsy destined to roam the world alone? The easiest – and cheaper – answer would be London, where I was born and raised. Yet living away from home for 8 years has developed a new sense of paranoia… Could I even live under my parents’ roof and their damn rules again?
Being in Israel, a Jewish state, I have felt an intense calling to return to the “Motherland” – Nigeria to be precise. I always seem to be running, not from London but from Lagos. Perhaps it’s time to suck it up and embrace where I seem to be at my happiest, with family and familiar surroundings. Perhaps it’s an idealistic, escapist view, but in the last 5 months, I have spent more time in Lagos than London, and my proclivity for travel has harnessed its claws in Nigeria – this was where I felt true happiness (the perks of cooks and drivers definitely helps). Certainly, Nigeria is a jungle compared to the “West”; but it’s MYjungle.
I have been journeying the world trying to find my way, but as I began writing this story I didn’t expect to embark on an internal journey. As I write this, the revelation is clear: I don’t know when exactly I will relocate to Nigeria, but I now know I will. My journey has taught me the following:
- Patience is required to properly set up roots; all good things come to those who wait – there’s no need to rush to the finish line, whether professionally or personally, everything falls into place eventually.
- Just because I am able to be independent, doesn’t necessarily mean I have to be independent at all times.
- Comfort isn’t limited to within your comfort zone, geographical location nor academic expectations. The only limits that exist are within your own mind.
So Lagos, see you soon; London , see you later! We can’t all be Zuckerbergs but we can all make a difference somehow.I’ve finally found my happy place, and now I know it comes from within.
Still, we bloom.
Illustration by @vashtiharrison
