When Opemipo got laid off five months after moving to Sweden for work, Finland wasn’t part of the plan. In this story, she shares how her friend referred her for a life-changing role, how the company handled her full relocation to Sweden without her spending a kobo, and the one piece of advice she���s giving anyone in this job market.

Where do you currently live, and when did you leave Nigeria?

I left Nigeria in February 2022 for Sweden, but I now live in Finland

Take us back to your life in Nigeria. What was life like for you in Nigeria before the move?

Before the move, I was actually doing really well in Nigeria. I had built a life and a career that I was proud of. I was growing, learning, and beginning to feel like I was finding my place in my career.

Then life took a beautiful turn. I got married in 2019, and in 2020, I had my daughter – right at the start of the COVID lockdown. Becoming a mother changed a lot for me. Suddenly, I was thinking not just about my career, but also about the kind of life and opportunities I wanted for myself and my growing family.

Around that time, I started looking into remote opportunities. I remember interviewing with Opera Mini/Opay, and at one point, I received an offer. But because I was pregnant, the offer was eventually rescinded. Honestly, that was difficult. It felt like I was being penalised for something that was such a beautiful and important part of my life.

But that experience didn’t stop me. I kept looking, and sometimes, the opportunities you don’t get make room for the ones you were actually meant to have.

A friend of mine, Kevwe, eventually referred me for a remote Project Coordinator role. I got the opportunity and joined in 2021. At the time, I didn’t realise just how significant that moment would be. That role became the beginning of a completely new chapter for me – one that would eventually take my career and my family in a direction I never could have imagined.

So, What Happened Next?           

About six months into the job, something completely unexpected happened: the company was acquired by Klarna, the Swedish buy-now-pay-later company.

At the time, there were only about a few of us working remotely from Nigeria. We were settled into our roles and getting on with our lives, so the acquisition was already a big change in itself. But then came another surprise.

Because of GDPR requirements, Klarna couldn���t continue having us work remotely from Nigeria. Instead of simply ending our contracts, they decided to relocate us.

I remember how surreal that felt. I had only recently found my footing in this new remote career when I was suddenly told I might have the opportunity to move to Europe.

I hadn���t planned for it. Moving abroad wasn���t something I had been actively pursuing at that point. But sometimes, life opens a door you weren���t even looking for, and you have to decide whether you���re brave enough to walk through it.

That’s wild. So this wasn’t really a planned japa?

Not at all, honestly. Moving abroad wasn���t really part of some big, carefully planned ���japa��� strategy.

My husband is a British citizen, and around that time, with the economy the way it was, we had quietly started exploring our options. We talked about possibly moving to Scotland or somewhere else in the UK. Nothing was certain – we were just having conversations, looking at possibilities, and praying about what the right next step would be for our family.

And then, completely out of nowhere, the company was acquired.

Suddenly, an opportunity arose to relocate to Sweden. Sweden wasn���t even on our radar. We had been thinking about the UK, and here we were being offered a completely different path to Europe.

Looking back, it was one of those moments where you just have to pause and say, ���Okay, God, I see what you’re doing.���

We had been praying for a way forward, but we were imagining one thing, and God opened a completely different door. We didn’t plan for Sweden. We didn’t even see it coming. It just happened.

So, for me, it really did feel like one of those ���God did this��� moments. What we thought would require years of planning and figuring everything out somehow came together through an unexpected opportunity.

What did the company handle, and what did you have to do yourselves?

Honestly? Almost nothing on our end. Looking back, I realise just how incredibly favoured and blessed we were.

Klarna partnered with a consultant to handle almost the entire relocation process for us. They took care of the documentation, visas, and all the complicated paperwork that comes with moving to another country.

The consultant verified our marriage certificate, checked our academic records, and made sure all our documentation was legitimate and in order. We didn’t even have to provide proof of funds. In fact, there was very little we had to figure out ourselves.

We had just one appointment in Abuja, and after that, everything moved incredibly quickly. It was honestly surreal because I kept thinking, ���Is this really happening?���

When we arrived in Sweden, Klarna also covered our relocation costs and paid for our first month’s rent. They even arranged for a relocation specialist to help us find permanent accommodation.

So, in many ways, we didn’t have to navigate the relocation process alone. The company took care of the things that would normally be some of the most stressful parts of moving abroad, and we were able to focus on preparing ourselves and our daughter for this completely new chapter.

It was a very different experience from what I had imagined relocating to another country would be. There was still a lot of uncertainty and emotion around leaving Nigeria, but having that level of support made the transition so much easier.

That sounds almost too smooth. 

Yeah, I know, right? But there���s a catch. 

Oh no.

So when I got to Sweden, I moved from project coordinator to scrum master in my original team, but I didnt think the role was challenging enough, so I pushed to move into a role within an existing Klarna team. The thing is, there’s usually a 2-year waiting period before contractors are fully integrated into Klarna’s workforce, but I skipped that since I was already working at a company that Klarna owned. When I moved over, I was treated like a brand-new employee.

Five months later, I got laid off. “Last in, first out,” was what they told me. It was devastating. I’d just uprooted my whole family, my daughter was barely two, and now this.

How did you even survive that financially and emotionally?

Honestly, what came next was probably the most depressing period of my life. 

The excitement of relocating to Sweden had faded, and suddenly I found myself dealing with a completely different reality. I had moved my life and my family to a new country, and now I was facing uncertainty about my career and what would happen next.

Thankfully, Swedish labour law gave me a bit of a safety net. Because I still had my original employment contract from before the Klarna acquisition, I was entitled to six months’ salary upon my termination.

And that turned out to be incredibly important.

In Sweden, your residence permit can be tied to your employment, so losing your job also meant I had to think carefully about how much time I had to find another one. That six months of salary effectively gave me around nine months of breathing room, rather than the three months I would otherwise have had to find new employment.

I remember being very deliberate about how I wanted the money paid. I told them, ���No, please don’t pay it as a lump sum. Pay me monthly.���

I needed that structured income. I needed to know that every month, I could still pay our bills while I focused on finding another job.

Looking back, that period was incredibly difficult emotionally. I had gone from feeling like everything was falling perfectly into place, moving to Sweden through what felt like a God-ordained opportunity, to suddenly wondering what I was going to do next. But that six-month salary gave me something I desperately needed at the time: time. Time to breathe, time to figure things out, and time to look for my next opportunity without immediately having to panic about how we were going to survive.

That’s such a specific, useful detail. What did those months of job hunting actually look like?

I knew I couldn’t sit around feeling sorry for myself. I was on LinkedIn every single day. I took online courses, attended Swedish language classes, reached out to Nigerians working at companies I was interested in, and asked for referrals, interview tips, and advice. I was willing to learn, adapt, and do whatever I could to find my footing again.

But one of the biggest things that carried me through that period was the Nigerian community in Sweden. People I had never met were willing to help me simply because they understood what it meant to be starting over in a new country.

There was one particular moment I’ll never forget. A man I’d never even met saw that I was looking for a job and offered to write a post about me on LinkedIn, in Swedish, to help me reach a wider audience.

He didn’t have to do that. He didn’t know me. But he saw someone in need and decided to help. That one simple act of kindness opened a door I never expected. 

Suddenly, I wasn’t just sitting alone in a new country trying to figure everything out. I had people to talk to, people who understood, people who could share their experiences and point me in the right direction.

It reminded me of something I’d almost forgotten during that difficult period: I wasn’t alone.

Sometimes, when you’re going through a difficult season, you don’t need someone to solve everything for you. Sometimes, you just need someone to say, ���I see you. Let me help.���

And that was exactly what the Nigerian community did for me.

Six months of that must have taken a toll. How did you keep going?

My belief in God and my faith in Him kept me going.

Also, instead of applying narrowly based only on what I had done before, I started applying broadly. I stopped looking at job descriptions and thinking, ���I don’t have 100% of this.��� Instead, I started asking myself, ���Can I learn this? Can I figure this out? Can I bring something valuable to the role?���

That shift made a huge difference.

I still had moments of doubt, of course, but I stopped allowing the things I hadn’t done before to define what I believed I was capable of doing.

Looking back, I think that period taught me to be much more confident in my ability to learn and to just be audacious.

And did that pay off? 

It did. And somehow, right when my severance was about to run out in December, I finally got an offer.

But there was a catch: the job was in Finland, not Sweden.

And honestly, that broke my heart a little.

By that point, Sweden wasn’t just the country I had moved to for work anymore. It had become home. I had built a community there, made friends, found people who had supported me through one of the hardest periods of my life, and started to build a life for my family. So when the opportunity in Finland came, I was excited to finally have a job again, but I was also conflicted. I remember thinking, ���Really? Just when I’m finally finding my feet here, I have to leave again?���

It felt like another chapter was closing just as I had started to settle into it.

But once again, life was taking me somewhere I hadn’t planned to go.

Wow. What was moving to Finland like?

Thankfully, this relocation was also company-funded, which made a huge difference.

They arranged for all our belongings to be moved from Sweden to Finland by boat���a 16-hour journey. So, in a very literal sense, our entire life was packed up and sent across the Baltic Sea while we prepared to start yet another chapter.

The amazing thing was that we already had our housing sorted before we even arrived. So when we landed in Finland, we didn’t have to worry about temporary accommodation or figuring out where we were going to live. We could simply move straight in.

And, as if the timing couldn’t have been more interesting, my husband’s company also asked him to relocate to Estonia around the same time.

At first, it sounded like yet another major complication. But then we looked at the map and realised Estonia is only about two hours from Finland by boat. So, thankfully, it wasn’t a dealbreaker.

Looking back, I sometimes laugh at how much our family moved around in such a short period of time. We went from Nigeria to Sweden, built a life there, then moved to Finland, while my husband’s work was taking him towards Estonia.

Were there any blockers you faced when moving from Sweden to Finland?

There was actually one more hurdle before we could fully settle in Finland.

Initially, we were told that we would need to go back to Nigeria to have our marriage certificate re-certified. The Finnish authorities sought additional verification due to concerns about documentation issued by Nigeria’s Ministry of Interior.

At first, we thought, ���Wait, do we really have to go all the way back to Nigeria for this?���

We had already gone through the verification process for Sweden. Our marriage had been verified, our documents had been reviewed, and we had been approved to live there without issue.

So we decided to push back. We explained that we had already been thoroughly vetted for our relocation to Sweden and asked why Finland would need us to start the entire verification process from scratch.

Thankfully, they listened.

Smart. Okay, and then, please tell me Finland went smoothly.

For about a year, yes. Then I got laid off again. This time, from a startup that wanted to raise more money and needed to lay people off to satisfy investors.

No way. Again?

I had a full panic attack, honestly. I wasn’t going to lie about that.

I had just gone through so much change already, moving countries, rebuilding my life, finding my feet again and then suddenly I was faced with the possibility of losing my job all over again. It felt like everything was happening at once.

But somehow, things turned around much faster than I expected.

By March, the same month I lost my job, I had already been approached on LinkedIn by another company. I went through the process, and before I knew it, I had a new offer letter in my hands.

I remember looking at that offer and thinking about everything that had happened over the previous few months. The uncertainty, the fear, the job applications, the moments when I wondered if I was going to figure everything out���and then suddenly, there I was, starting another chapter.

I’ve now been with that company for over three years.

When I look back at that period, I’m reminded of how quickly things can change. One moment, you can feel like everything is falling apart, and the next, a door opens that you couldn’t have seen coming.

Let’s talk life abroad. What genuinely shocked you in your first week in Sweden?

Honestly, the weather was probably the biggest culture shock.

We arrived in February, and it was cold. And not just cold, it was dark for what felt like the entire day. Coming from Nigeria, where you’re used to sunshine and warmth, I remember thinking, ���What exactly have we gotten ourselves into?���

Then summer came, and Sweden completely flipped the script. Suddenly, it felt like the sun just refused to go to bed. It would stay bright for what seemed like forever, and I remember thinking, ���Wait, when does it actually get dark here?���

The underground train system was another thing that completely blew my mind. I remember getting lost a few times. Coming from Nigeria, I wasn’t used to having such an organised public transport system that you could just rely on to get around. It was one of those everyday things that made me realise, ���Okay, I’m really living in a different part of the world now.���

And then there were the little financial and lifestyle differences you don’t necessarily think about before moving. For example, paying rent monthly instead of annually took some getting used to. In Nigeria, you often think of rent as a huge annual expense, so having it structured completely differently felt strange at first.

What’s one thing you loved about living in Sweden specifically?

. It’s this very Swedish tradition of taking a break for coffee and a small pastry or bun. I really got into it.

And what didn’t you love about Sweden?

The Swedish people themselves could feel a bit pretentious and fake, honestly, not all of them, but a good number of the ones I interacted with. The Nigerian community there, though, is incredibly warm.

How does the cost of living in Sweden compare to Finland?

Sweden’s actually cheaper, mostly because  Finland’s taxes are high. And they tax EVERYTHING.

What’s the biggest difference between the two countries for you?

Finland has way more nature, and Finnish life is more attuned to it. It���s much slower and calmer even in the capital area. Sweden felt more like an urban race track by comparison.

You���ve been able to get these international jobs multiple times. What’s your job-hunting secret?

LinkedIn. Every single time.

If you’re job hunting in the Nordics, I genuinely believe you need to take LinkedIn seriously. Don’t just create a profile and forget about it; be strategic. Optimise your profile, make sure your experience is clearly presented, and let people know what you actually bring to the table.

And don’t underestimate your CV. Keep it sharp, relevant, and tailored to the role you’re applying for. But beyond the CV, learn how to talk to people.

When a recruiter or hiring manager calls you, that conversation matters. Be warm, be confident, be genuinely interested, and let your personality come through. Technical skills can get you through an application, but the way you communicate and connect with people can take you much further than you might expect.

Salary negotiation is also important, so you don’t get cheated. What’s your best salary negotiation advice?

Ask. Always ask. Once you’re in the role, there’s rarely another chance to renegotiate unless you switch jobs entirely. Companies that extend an offer are not going to rescind it because you asked for more money. The worst, they say, is ���no, the salary range for this role doesn���t go that high.��� Then you ask for other non-salary benefits.

What do you love most about life in Finland?

Nature is what I love most about Finland.

Do you miss Nigeria?

Honestly, no. I haven’t stopped being Nigerian just because I live abroad.

I still eat all my Nigerian food���pepper soup, suya, goat meat, all of it. I’m still glued to Nigerian social media, I still follow what’s happening back home, and I still feel very connected to the culture.

But there’s another side of Nigeria that I don’t miss: the constant state of alertness.

When you’re living there, you’re often thinking about safety without even realising how much mental energy it takes. You’re thinking about where you’re going, what time you’ll get home, whether a particular road is safe, and what you’ve heard about kidnappings or other security issues. That constant awareness can really take a toll on you.

I think living abroad made me realise just how much of that stress I’d normalised.

On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate life in Finland?

An eight. It’d be a ten if not for the weather; it’s brutally cold for months. Life in Finland is very chill and slow-paced; you get to breathe fresh air daily.

Any last words for anyone reading this?

Be audacious. Genuinely. Don’t box yourself into one role or one skill set because of what you’ve done in the past. There is so much you can learn on the job. If you have the ability to learn, adapt, and figure things out, don’t disqualify yourself before you’ve even given yourself a chance.

And fight your imposter syndrome, because nobody is going to fight it for you.

There were plenty of moments when I questioned whether I was qualified enough, experienced enough, or whether I really belonged in the room. But eventually, I realised that waiting until I felt completely confident would only hold me back.

Apply anyway. Have the conversation anyway. Put yourself forward anyway. And perhaps most importantly, don’t tie your entire identity to your job.

Your job is something you do; it isn’t the entirety of who you are. You are more than your title, your company, your salary, or the role you currently hold. Especially in today’s job market, things can change incredibly quickly. I learned that the hard way.

So build your career, work hard, keep learning, but remember to build a life and an identity outside of your career too. Because when the job changes, you are still you.

Want to share your japa story? Please reach out to me .

Busayo (19) always planned to leave Nigeria; the only question was where and how. After watching his friends get shut out of US student visas one by one, he pivoted his entire plan to the Netherlands, landed a scholarship at one of the country’s top universities, and rebuilt his life.

Where do you live now, and when did you leave Nigeria?

I live in Rotterdam. Everyone thinks of Amsterdam when they hear “Netherlands,” but Rotterdam is honestly one of the best cities here. I left Nigeria on August 19, 2025.

What did life look like for you before you left?

I finished high school in 2024. The original plan was America. I applied to a bunch of universities while I was still in school, got into a few good ones, and even got scholarships ranging from 20% to 60%, but when my family sat down and did the maths on four years of tuition, it just didn’t make sense in the long term. My older sister, who’d already been living in the Netherlands for years, was the one who the bigger picture, the job market, the opportunities, in a way the rest of us couldn’t yet.

Wow, so what actually killed the American dream for you?

A few things stacked up. I didn’t want to retake the SATs, so I applied to two Ivy League schools with just my GPA, and that didn’t work out. Then there was the high rate of visa denials for international students and the tuition affordability in the long run. That’s when America was officially off the table for me.

So you pivoted to the Netherlands. How did that happen?

I actually applied to the Netherlands the same year I applied to US schools, before I even finished high school, and I got into Erasmus University Rotterdam. I just didn’t get the scholarship, so it would’ve still meant a huge amount of money. 

During my gap year, I reapplied. My sister kept telling me Erasmus is one of the best universities in the world, with a really strong media and communications program, so I put more effort into the scholarship application this time. I got in, and I got the scholarship. 

Nice! Walk me through the process, how you found the scholarship, and what the application involves

Honestly, a lot of it was self-directed research. I still have a YouTube playlist titled “university application” full of videos of people breaking down how they got in and guidance from my sister. For the university application, I submitted my West African Examination Council (WAEC) results and a motivation letter. 

For the scholarship, I had to write two essays, one on why I needed the money and one on why I deserved it academically and socially. I leaned on the fact that I’d been on scholarship in high school too, so I could show I wouldn’t waste the investment. The scholarship was ���5,000.

The Big Daily is your weekday shortcut to the biggest news shaping Nigeria. We cut through the noise, connect the dots, and explain why the news actually matters, all in one quick read.

Alright. What did the process cost?

My tuition was ���11,300. But once you add the living fee, a deposit you pay upfront to prove you can sustain yourself, which gets returned to you once you’re in the country, plus tuition and immigration costs, the total comes to ���25,500. With the ���5,000 scholarship, I was left paying ���20,500.

Okay, now the visa. What was that process like?

Because my university was my sponsor, I didn’t apply separately; the school handled much of the paperwork on my end, including obtaining my V-number from the immigration authority. What I signed was more of a declaration-of-acceptance form, along with the usual documents, like my Nigerian passport. Before you get your actual residence permit, you need a Machtiging tot Voorlopig Verblijf (MVV), which is a provisional entry visa sticker that lets you enter the country and is valid for 90 days.

Did you face any issues during this process?

Yes! I went to submit my documents in person, very organised, and found it shocking there was hardly anyone in line. The woman who attended to me told me the MVV would now take 40 to 60 days instead of the usual five to ten. I panicked because I already had pre-academic programs and orientation to attend before school started on September 1st.

I emailed my school immediately, and they emailed the embassy the same day. Within a day or two, I got a message telling me to come back; my visa was ready. That was the fastest process time I have ever experienced, Kudos to my Uni on that one. I literally collected it the day before my flight and started packing that same night.

That’s so stressful. What was your first week in the Netherlands actually like?

It was mostly documentation, honestly. My sister picked me up from the airport, and even the free luggage trolleys shocked me, coming from Nigeria. In my first week, I registered at the municipality to get my Burgerservicenummer or Citizen Service Number (BSN), which is your citizen number. 

You need it for literally everything: a SIM card, a bank account, and health insurance. I also signed up for my school’s pre-academic programme and got my OV chip card sorted for public transport, where you have to remember to tap in and tap out, or they’ll charge you the full fare regardless of where you actually got off. So it was a pretty decent first week.

What do you love most about living there?

The organisation, hands down. Everything is documented, accountable, and clean. 24/7 electricity still shocks me sometimes. I can leave the house and come back, and my lights will be on as long as I’ve paid my bill. I also love that the country is so central, a two-hour train gets you to Belgium, and an hour’s flight to Paris. My residence permit lets me travel anywhere in the EU.

And what’s been the hardest part?

The restrictions on international students, honestly. There aren’t nearly as many scholarship opportunities for us compared to students from other regions. I also had an internship offer from a global company that I had to turn down in my first year because of a binding agreement between the student, the university, and the employer that doesn’t apply to EU passport holders. That one really hurt.

So sorry about that. What���s the housing situation like in the Netherlands? 

It’s genuinely tough. Rent runs anywhere from ���650 to ���1,200 a month, and that’s often for a shared place; a studio to yourself can go for ���900 to ���1,300. It depends on where you find housing and how lucky you are. My honest advice: have a very solid financial plan before you get here. If you don’t have family or any other person here already, reach out to your university directly; they’re usually lenient with first-years and keep some emergency housing for international students. Facebook groups can help too, but watch out for scams, and don’t send money upfront. Some people end up commuting an hour or two from a neighbouring city because they couldn’t find anything closer.

What about jobs and the cost of living? Does the pay match the cost of living?

It depends on the job. As a non-EU international student, you’re capped at 16 hours a week during the school year or 40 hours in summer, but only one or the other, not both. Your employer must also apply for a work permit for you every 6 months, except for internships. I’ve worked a bar job and a cup-stacking job; the cup-stacking paid about ���12 an hour. Pay generally scales with age, too; an 18-year-old typically earns less than someone in their early twenties for the same retail-type job. Some corporate student jobs pay better. I earned ���19 an hour leading a team for my school’s pre-academic programme over the summer. Whatever you make, you get taxed, but you can file at the end of the year and often get money back if you were overtaxed.

Is the language a barrier, and how did you build community?

Not really, most people speak English here, which is part of why the Netherlands is such a popular study destination. Learning basic Dutch helps with day-to-day life, but you won’t die without it. For the community, I joined my university’s African Students Association, where I met people who are my friends now. I also go to Hillsong church here, and I’m part of a church connect group. It takes time, and I’d tell anyone not to be desperate about it; you’ll find your people.

Do you miss Nigeria?

I miss my friends and family back home. I miss the accessibility of proper Nigerian food. We mostly cook African food at home, but it would be a great addition to  just step out for a proper Nigerian meal. I don’t see myself moving back permanently anytime soon, though. Maybe short visits during summer, when it’s calmer.

Any mistakes you’d warn other japa hopefuls about?

Kill the mindset that you’ll land and start making serious money immediately, even as a student; the reality is very different from what you plan for. Don’t come in with an unrealistic, Netflix-fed idea of what university life abroad looks like either. Save money, even if it’s just ���5 a week. Don’t try to work a full course load and a full-time job at the same time; it’s not sustainable. And please, stop converting every price back to naira in your head, it’ll only stress you out.

On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate life in the Netherlands?

A solid 7.9. It’s not an eight or a nine because the restrictions on international students are real, and funding cuts have been hitting scholarships and social programmes hard recently. But the organisation, the quality of life, and the fact that I can afford to travel around Europe on a few hundred euros have made this start to feel like home. The main thing that still reminds me I’m an international student are the restrictions and heavy documentation to do certain things- internships. 

Any final words for someone thinking about doing the same thing?

Do your research obsessively, Think and prepare finances in the long run before you come, and don’t be afraid to put yourself out there, even when it’s scary. It’s worth it. And at times when you feel less in comparison to your classmates AKA Imposter syndrome remember you earned your spot here just like everyone else you deserve every bit of it. 

Want to share your japa story? Please reach out to me

Chinyere left Nigeria in February 2025 with her husband and children after a rough stretch at her husband���s job forced their hand. In this story, she talks about Spain���s Highly Qualified Professional visa and the legalisation process of all your documents and one thing that she wants every applicant to know.

Where do you live now, and when did you leave Nigeria?

I currently live in Madrid, Spain. I left Nigeria in late February, 2025. I moved with my husband and our two children. 

Okay, take me back. What did life look like before you left?

Honestly, it wasn’t bad. My husband and I both worked in tech, both remotely. There was some restructuring at his workplace, and he was laid off in early 2024. It pushed him to start applying for international jobs with visa sponsorship.

I was still working remotely, though my company had transitioned to a hybrid model. I wasn’t going into the office as often as I should have because I’d just given birth in the first or second week of May 2024.

How long before he found another job? 

It didn’t actually take long. He got another job fairly quickly after that one, but the pay cut and the environment were so bad that he eventually had to quit.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t get a job. It’s that once you’ve worked somewhere like where he did and experienced that culture, transitioning into something far below it is genuinely discouraging. That was the real trigger, not unemployment but disappointment.

So how did Spain come into the picture?

The company that eventually hired him is a global firm, so once he got through the interviews, we actually had options: the United Arab Emirates (UAE), Spain, Portugal, and Poland. We did our research on the political climate, the presence of tech hubs, the overall economy, and the presence of Black or Nigerian communities. Spain wasn’t doing badly at all. We also told ourselves we’d need to properly learn the language and integrate; we were already on Duolingo before we even landed. That’s what tipped it for us.

What happened to your own job in Nigeria when it was time to leave?

My company was genuinely good. But once we transitioned into hybrid, my manager understood I couldn’t come in as often post-maternity leave. When it was time to relocate, though, there was a rule that you had to resign within a month of officially notifying them. So that’s what I did, I told them the truth, that I was moving to Spain with my family, and I resigned within that window.

Let’s get into the visa. What type of visa was it?

So the visa is called the . It’s one of several visa pathways in Spain; there’s also a student visa, a digital nomad visa, a general work permit, and a jobseeker visa. 

The Highly Qualified Professional visa is handled by a specific body, which I know as “UGE”; I think it means Unidad de Grandes Empresas y Colectivos Estrat辿gicos (Large Companies and Strategic Groups Unit). It comes with strict criteria: the employer has to prove they couldn’t fill the role locally, meaning they’ve posted the job extensively within Spain or the EU and genuinely couldn’t source the talent.

There’s also a salary threshold; I can’t remember the exact figure, but it has to fall within a specific high range  to be deemed as “highly qualified.” Below that, it’s just not this visa.

It also allows direct dependents, so my two children and I came in under it, though technically ours was a separate category: a family reunification visa.

The Big Daily is your weekday shortcut to the biggest news shaping Nigeria. We cut through the noise, connect the dots, and explain why the news actually matters, all in one quick read.

Walk me through the actual process. What did you have to do once your husband got the offer?

There are two major stages: legalisation and the visa application itself. Legalisation comes first and essentially involves the authentication of every document you plan to submit.

Because we went to school in Nigeria and our documents were issued here, and because there’s no central Nigerian database anyone abroad can check to confirm a certificate is real, everything has to be physically verified.

Nigeria isn’t part of the Hague Apostille Convention, an international treaty that makes it easier to use public documents in other countries so we couldn’t shortcut this. Every document, including birth certificates, marriage certificates, academic transcripts, and the children’s birth certificates, had to be processed by Nigeria’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Academic documents had to go through the Ministry of Education first, before Foreign Affairs would even look at them.

What documents specifically did you submit, and what did that cost?

Birth certificates, a marriage certificate (they insist on a fresh copy, not your original from years ago; my husband had to go back to the Ikoyi registry for ours), academic transcripts or statements of result, and a police character report.

For academic documents, if your school can’t email the transcript directly to the Spanish consulate, you’ll pay per page for a representative to come to your old school to verify it in person. When we did this in late 2024, a school in the east charged about ���250,000 for a single document. I heard it���s cheaper for schools in western Nigeria.

The marriage certificate was the slowest to lock in; it took about two months. They actually send someone to interview you, sometimes visit your family, to confirm the marriage is real and not just for show.

The police character report is also another one that gave us a headache. It’s only valid for three months in Nigeria. If there’s any delay in your legalisation appointment, you might end up doing it two or three times. It’s also the one document where nobody can stand in for you; you have to be physically present in Nigeria to get it. That’s actually why some Nigerians already living abroad have to fly home just for this.

Once everything’s authenticated, then what?

Then you translate everything into Spanish, but not with Google Translate or any random online service. It has to be a certified “sworn translator” recognised by the relevant Spanish body. After that, you apply for your NIE, the acronym for the Spanish phrase N炭mero de Identificaci坦n de Extranjero, which is basically Spain’s foreign ID number used for taxes and everything else. Our employer actually handled our NIE application, so I can’t speak to doing that independently.

How long did the whole thing take, start to finish?

We officially started the process in late September or early October 2024. Legalisation alone took about two months; we submitted in October, and the lawyer called us in December to confirm we’d cleared. My husband’s visa was ready the first week of January. Mine came out around the first week of February, along with the children’s.

Worth noting: the rules have already changed since we went through it. Back then, we applied together as a family. Now, from what I’m hearing from people I mentor, the main applicant has to establish themselves in Spain, paying taxes and social security, for a period before the rest of the family can apply to join.

How did your husband find the job?

LinkedIn, though more accurately, recruiters found him there once he started interviewing widely. Job posts on LinkedIn will often tell you upfront if a role sponsors a visa and relocation. He did, they covered our flights and our first 30 days of accommodation in Spain.

Okay, you’ve been in Madrid for over a year now. What hit you as culture shock in the first few weeks?

The zebra crossings, honestly. In Lagos, you might see one, and cars still won’t stop. In Madrid, even on smaller streets, cars wait for you to fully cross, no rushing. On major roads, there are buttons pedestrians press to control the traffic lights.

I also expected more English, given that I was in the capital. But most people don’t speak it; the lingua franca is Spanish, so it was on me to adjust to that, not them.

Public displays of affection are much more open than I was used to. And Spain actually has way more spice variety than I expected; different types of pepper, even though Spaniards themselves don’t really eat spicy food.

What do you genuinely love about living there?

Madrid is beautiful and well organised. The bureaucracy has its annoyances, but there’s structure: first come, first served, always.

Healthcare is effectively free once you’re paying into Social Security, and public education is accessible the same way. The climate is manageable too, apart from summer, nowhere near as extreme as in somewhere like Finland or Germany.

And what’s been hard?

Getting locals to open up and talk has been hard, especially when considering that I don’t know the language. People are generally nice, but the accent moves fast, and it’s a real effort to keep up.��

The bureaucracy cuts both ways, too. If you just want to ask a quick question, you still have to join the full queue, which makes no sense to me, but I get why they do it. Another struggle has been commuting especially during rush hours. On the trains, for instance, it���s a hustle, it���s always packed.��

Have you found a Nigerian or African community there?

Honestly, I don���t have much of one, at least not organised. When we were researching before the move, we found scattered mentions of Nigerians in Spain but no real group. Even now, sharing my own content, most people I connect with found me through my videos rather than an existing network. I recently joined a WhatsApp community called “Melanin Tribe. It���s a gathering of women of African descent in Spain, but I’ve only seen their first meetup announcement so far; I was on duty and couldn’t attend.

A lot of immigrants here just keep to themselves, “don’t put me in trouble” energy. Understandable, but it does mean building community takes real effort.

How about work? Have you been able to find a job since? 

Oh yes, I have. I transitioned into cloud computing from the IT work I was doing before. It���s really interesting so far

Nice! How did that happen?

When I resigned and started job hunting, most postings wanted Spanish, so I knew I needed to upskill instead of waiting around. I moved from IT service management to cloud computing and applied for an Amazon Web Services (AWS) . 

I’d actually tried to get in since 2022 and been rejected twice. The third time, right after landing in Spain, I got in. From there, I applied for jobs and got one in March of this year. I’m currently a technical specialist in platform engineering, which sits somewhere between DevOps and cloud computing. Still transitioning fully into the DevOps side.

Was the language a barrier to job hunting?

Not for tech, no. Most of these companies are global, and English is still the default working language even inside Spain-based teams. My team communicates in English day-to-day. It’s different for customer-facing roles, though; if you’re supporting Spanish customers directly, you need Spanish. But engineering, DevOps, and technical roles generally run in English.

What’s the cost of living in Spain like?

Minimum wage is just over ���1,000. You can survive on it if you budget properly and cut your spending according to your income. Groceries are manageable as long as you’re not constantly buying imported African ingredients; those are pricier, so we go to the African market maybe once a month instead of weekly. Housing and utilities are flexible too; you’re not locked into one provider, so we switched gas and electricity vendors early on when the bills were too high.

Do you miss Nigeria?

Honestly, yes. I miss my people, my siblings, my in-laws, the food, and my friends. But outside of that, I don’t miss much. I think the loneliness people talk about with japa mostly hits people who have moved alone. I have my husband and my children here, so it’s different for me.

Anything that would make you move back?

Not really, no. My husband already switched employers once within his first six or seven months here, and it worked out, but the visa comes with pressure. If you lose your job, you have three months to find another one, or you’re expected to return to your country.

We’re not on permanent residency yet, which requires five consecutive years in Spain with no more than six months total spent outside the country. Full citizenship is a much bigger ask: ten years of residency, and you’d have to renounce Nigerian citizenship entirely, since Spain doesn’t allow dual nationality with Nigeria. Most people just settle for PR instead.

Any regrets or mistakes from the process you’d warn people about?

One real regret, I didn’t legalise my own transcript early on, back when I was considering applying for a master’s before this job came through. I had my certificate legalised, but not the transcript, and you need both for school admissions. I had to get my brother to stand in for me with a notarised affidavit, then courier the documents from Nigeria to Spain by DHL. It cost extra money and time that early legalisation would have avoided.

On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your life in Spain right now?

A solid 8.5. My dream would be a fully remote role since I love working from home. Right now, my commute alone can take up to three hours round-trip, depending on how busy the trains are. But aside from that, I don’t have any real complaints. My husband works from home and takes care of the children while I’m out, so the balance works.

What’s the one piece of advice you’d give someone considering this route?

Be detail-oriented and open-minded, and actually do your research. Run away from agents, anyone offering to “facilitate” your visa for a fee. We didn’t pay anyone a single naira through this entire process; everything the Spanish consulate needs is in the email they sent you. It’s just long, and most people won’t read it. Be cautious about where you source your documents, too; an invalid one can get you a visa ban, and that’s a much bigger problem than a slow process.

Want to share your japa story? Please reach out to me .

When Faith decided she wanted Canadian Permanent Residency (PR), she booked her English test and weeks after she had her Invitation to Apply.

In this story, she shares how she skipped the agents entirely, the exact strategy that got her PR in under four months, and the one thing she���d tell anyone drowning in online migration advice.

Where do you currently live, and when did you first leave Nigeria?

Well, that’s a pretty layered question. I left Nigeria for Dubai in November 2020. I later moved to the UK in December 2022 for my master’s, and I got my Canadian permanent residency this year. I travelled to Canada on April 2. I’m currently splitting time between the UK and Canada, but I���ll be moving to Canada for good pretty soon. 

Wow! That’s a lot. Before we get into Dubai, take me back to what life was like for you in Nigeria

Way before any of this, I wrote my General Certificate Exam (GCE) at 13. I think I was the youngest person I knew to write it at the time. I then finished secondary school at 14. 

I was too young to be admitted to a Nigerian university, so I completed a French-language diploma at the Nigerian French Language Village to buy time. But when I tried to get into a Nigerian university afterwards, I ran into the usual admissions frustrations; one school’s deadline closed the day I submitted, and another just mishandled my application without telling me what else I needed to do.

At that point, I decided I wasn’t going to wait around anymore. Looking back, I genuinely believe it was God at work. When He wants to push you somewhere, He just lets things happen the way they do, so you end up moving in that direction. 

My parents couldn’t afford to send me to school in the United Kingdom (UK) or the United States (US) for school, so I found out about universities in the Benin Republic through a friend, applied entirely on my own and didn’t tell my parents until I had gotten in. My mum funded it after they found out. 

I graduated at 18 and returned to Nigeria to serve in the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC).

That���s really interesting. So,  what were you doing before you left for Dubai?

After NYSC, I moved to Abuja to work as a restaurant manager. I specifically asked to be posted there instead of  Port Harcourt because I wanted to be somewhere I didn’t have too many ties, so I’d be forced to figure things out on my own.

That job ended up being huge for me. It’s where I did restaurant consulting, operations management, sales, and recipe compliance, and it’s honestly where my love for hospitality and food businesses really started.

After a while, I moved to Lagos and entered the oil and gas industry as a business development executive. I was earning well, living comfortably on the island, and meeting great people. But I got bored fairly quickly, which happens to me a lot. I loved my boss and the company, but I realised I was chasing someone else’s dream, not mine. My dream was to eventually own a chain of contemporary restaurants, and I wasn’t going to get there sitting in oil and gas.

So what took you to Dubai?

I applied for a hospitality master’s in Spain first and got a partial scholarship, but I realised the school was far from town and I wouldn’t be able to work while I studied. 

Around the same time, Dubai was preparing to host , and it was the biggest name in tourism. So I thought, why not go get hospitality experience there first, build some bragging rights, and then apply for my master’s after?

How did you actually get into Dubai? What was the visa process?

I applied for a visit visa. I found an immigration company online, and they handled my visa application. What I submitted was fairly straightforward: bank statements, proof of funds, passport details, and information about my job at the time.

I actually got the visa and bought my flight before COVID hit, so my trip was delayed. I flew out of Abuja to see my parents first, and that’s when the lockdown happened. I got stuck in Port Harcourt with just a handbag while all my luggage was still in Abuja. Dubai’s borders eventually reopened, and I landed in November 2020.

The visit visa was renewable, so you could just keep topping it up, no physical stamp needed except at the airport. The important thing was staying legal in the country. Once I found a job, the company would sponsor a full work visa.

What was life in Dubai like for you?

The first three months were tough, especially because I wasn’t working. 

I had to set a photo of Dubai’s skyscrapers as my phone’s screensaver, as a reminder every time I unlocked my phone that God’s promises for me were true and that I was going to make it happen.

I started selling Nigerian food to other immigrants I met around, going from shop to shop with a little trolley. Eventually, I landed a restaurant job doing customer service and online orders.

Wait! You actually turned down a work visa sponsorship?

Yes! The restaurant wanted to sponsor my visa, but that came with a two-year commitment to the company, and I just knew that wasn’t what I was meant to do. I kept telling myself, “God, this is not what you’ve brought me to do.” 

My friends thought I had gone mad. People were literally praying for the kind of opportunity I was turning down. But I stuck to my decision. Not long after, a friend connected me to a high-end sales role selling skincare with gold and diamond infusions, plus non-surgical facelifts. That job changed everything. I was earning up to 15 times what I made at the restaurant job.

Love that for you. So how did the UK come into the picture?

At some point, I wanted more immigration stability, so I looked into Canada. That’s when I found out (WES) no longer evaluates degrees from most schools in Benin Republic, and my first degree was from a school there. Instead of fighting that, I decided to do a master’s in the UK, since a fresh, recognised qualification would help me build a stronger case for Canada afterwards.

I made the decision, applied three days later, got admitted three days after, and paid my full fees within a week. I entered the UK in December 2022, and my course started in January 2023.

What was life like while you were studying?

I worked part-time in education as a teaching assistant in a special-needs school and as a support worker in healthcare. That healthcare experience ended up mattering a lot later; it contributed to my Express Entry eligibility. 

I was very intentional about never applying for a job with a Certificate of Sponsorship (CoS), even when people around me were chasing those roles, because I didn’t want to start conditioning myself to stay in the UK long-term.

Nice, now let’s get into the Canada process. Walk me through it.

In August 2025, I was in church, and my pastor was preaching about not procrastinating on the things you’ve set your mind to do. That same day, I booked my International English Language Testing System (IELTS) exam, exactly one month before the test date, and I hadn’t studied a single day yet. 

Between a full-time job, running my own business, and recovering from surgery two months prior, I didn’t start proper studying until about two weeks before the exam and didn’t get serious until three or four days before.

Oh wow! Did that affect your results eventually?

I got a perfect score. I sat for the exam on September 28, and the next day at church, I asked God to change that score if it wasn’t what I needed; some people would call it delusion; I call it faith. 

When my results came in the next day, I screamed in the Uber I was in. I maxed out every section. The moment my score came in, my Comprehensive Ranking System (CRS) score shot up. I entered the Express Entry pool the very next day, September 30, created my profile with all my experience, and got my Invitation to Apply exactly (ITA) two weeks later, on October 15.

What documents and timeline did the PR application involve?

I submitted my application 19 days after getting my ITA, on November 3, and they confirmed receipt within an hour. I did my medicals as part of the process. One thing that mattered a lot was my letter of explanation; I ended up writing about 16 pages, explaining everything clearly, including explaining my proof of funds.

My money was spread across a few different accounts, including some newer banks so I moved everything into my HSBC account and included proof of that transfer to show the funds were genuinely mine. You don’t need six consecutive months of savings sitting untouched,you just need to show the funds are legitimately available to you.

It took exactly four months to get from submission to approval. I got my PR confirmation, sent in my passport, and got it back with my PR stamped in about a week. I landed in Canada on April 2.

What did the whole process actually cost you?

From start to finish ��� IELTS, Express Entry, the application itself ��� I spent under 贈1,800 total for the entire process. I know people who’ve been charged 贈3,000 by agents for the same process.

You’re clearly not a fan of agents.

Not at all, specifically for this process. I did everything myself ��� no agent, ever, for Canada. It took a lot of research, filtering out wrong information, outdated advice, and other people’s bad experiences. I now run to help people build their own Express Entry profiles, plus an IELTS strategy ebook and boot camp classes with mock tests. 

There isn’t a one-size-fits-all pathway; some people qualify through the Canadian Experience Class, some through a Provincial Nominee Program, and others because they have family in a specific province. It really depends on your individual profile.

The two biggest factors for PR success are a high CRS score and working in an in-demand job category. Your CRS score comes down to age, academic credentials, and your language test results, which is why I stress the IELTS so much. I didn’t need French for my application; my score was already high enough from my healthcare experience and academic background.

What’s life actually been like so far, between the UK and Canada?

The UK was a big culture shock after Dubai. In Dubai, everything was delivered to your door; I once asked a friend in Sheffield to have a painkiller delivered to me, and he looked at me like I was mad. In the UK, I had to get used to paying council tax, doing things myself, and a much colder social culture generally. I was low for the first four to six months after moving.

Canada, so far, feels like the closest thing to Dubai I’ve experienced ��� modern buildings, condos with pools and gyms, and a genuinely warmer culture. When I arrived at the airport, a stranger helped me lift my suitcase onto the train without me asking. Someone even walked me to my platform. That kind of thing just doesn’t happen in the UK, in my experience.

What’s your favourite thing about Canada?

How multicultural and warm it feels. People seem genuinely happier; restaurant staff, strangers on the street, everyone. When I joined a Toronto neighbourhood Facebook group, over a hundred people responded with tips on where to live, whether I had a car, walkability, all of it. It doesn’t feel like survival mode the way it does in the UK.

On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate life in the UK and life in Canada?

UK ��� I’d say four out of ten, and I’ll be honest that I’m biased. I’ve tasted a more disposable-income, higher-quality lifestyle in Dubai, so the UK will always feel like survival mode to me by comparison. People here eat and sleep so they can work, instead of working so they can live.

Canada ��� six or seven out of ten so far, based on visits rather than living there long-term. It feels multicultural, less toxic, and people are far more willing to help each other out.

Any advice for someone considering this exact route?

You can do whatever you set your mind to; that’s actually a tattoo I have. Don’t let other people’s negative experiences become your excuse before you’ve even tried.

The Canada PR process isn’t as complicated as people make it seem. Read, research, use the resources available to you, and only pay for guidance if you genuinely need pointers, not because you’re too scared to try.

Any mistakes you’d tell people to avoid?

Worrying too much during the waiting period. I paused parts of my own life while waiting for my application to come back, and it left me overwhelmed, almost depressed. What eventually got me through it was telling myself that everything was in God���s hands. 

I submitted a clean application, checked everything, and there was nothing left to do but trust the process. Once I actually settled into that and moved on with my life, I got my PR two days later.

This has been such a good conversation. Anything you want to add?

Just that everyone’s timeline and pathway is different. Don’t compare your process to anyone else’s. Focus on your own situation and what’s actually available to you.

Want to share your japa story? Please reach out to me here.

意鞄艶油��is returning on August 22, 2026, in Lagos! Come learn from finance experts and industry leaders, and partake in unfiltered conversations about building wealth and diversifying your income stream in a country like Nigeria.��Real stories, expert advice you can actually use, and a community ready to build wealth together.��.

Michael traded freelancing in Nigeria for a Product Designer role at an AI company in Paris, landing an EU Talent Passport with no degree, no French test, and no proof of funds. Here’s how he made it work.

Where do you currently live, and when did you leave Nigeria?

I currently live in Paris. I left Nigeria in August 2025, so it’s been almost a year now.

What did life look like for you in Nigeria?

I actually dropped out of university in my final year. I was studying computer science, and around the 300 level, I took an interest in design and started learning it. 

By my final year, I had a back-and-forth with a lecturer over a course I had been stuck retaking.  In addition to the disruptions caused by the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) strikes,  I was already looking at an extra year before I could graduate.

That was the tipping point for me. I was mentally done. I told my dad I couldn’t keep going, and while he was worried at first, he came around once he saw I already had a stable income from my design work.

I was mostly freelancing remotely for companies. I worked for a Kenyan startup remotely for about three years, from around 2021 to 2024. It was pretty successful, to be honest. I have about 84,000 to 86,000 , so I used that audience to keep work coming in. I didn’t have a month where something wasn���t going on. If I had too many jobs, I’d outsource the extra to other designer friends.

When did you first get the idea to leave Nigeria?

I always knew I���d leave at some point, but it wasn���t a pressing need for me. That changed around the time when the current government came in. 

I was comfortable. My mentality was  ���I’ll do my best here, but I won’t work myself to death in a broken environment, so any real opportunity to leave, I’ll take it.��� Interestingly, around 2018 or 2019, I actually had an offer to move to Finland, but I did the math on taxes and got scared about the language barrier, so I turned it down.

Was Paris ever in the plan?

Not at all. Paris was never on my mind. I knew I didn’t want the United Kingdom (UK) because the constant changes to immigration policy put me off. My actual plan was to start in an African country first, maybe Kenya, before moving anywhere else. I didn’t want to leave Africa so quickly.

So how did you end up in Paris?

I got an offer from a United States (US) company.  I did a trial period with them, and the pay was very good. But around the same time, an AI company in Paris reached out to me on X about a Product Designer role. I had always wanted to work at an AI company, so I stalled the US offer to go through the interview process. 

I went through their process, got the role, and the US company eventually pulled their offer after I  stalled them too long. That was fine ��� they still paid me for the weeks I had worked. 

Oh wow, interesting. What did the visa process look like?

The company’s immigration team handled about 90% of it. All I had to do was go to the Visa Facilitation Services (VFS) office in Lagos for biometrics and submit my documents. It’s a European Union (EU) Talent Passport, similar to the UK’s Global Talent visa, except it’s tied to your employer; you need a company to sponsor you.

Wish someone would just explain what���s going on in Nigeria?
That���s exactly what The Big Daily Newsletter does. We break down Nigeria���s biggest stories, explain what they mean, and why they matter, all in one quick read.

Did you need a language test or proof of funds?

I didnt need any of that. Normally, if you move to France on your own with a regular work visa, you need an A1 level in French, and the permit might only be valid for a year, but with the EU Talent Passport, there’s no French requirement, and it’s valid for four years from your first application.

You mentioned earlier that you didn’t finish your degree. Did that affect the visa requirements?

The visa needs either five years of experience or a relevant degree. I already had 7 to 8 years of experience by the time I applied. 

I asked the immigration team if that was still feasible, and they said yes, as long as I could provide evidence that I had been working for that period. I had to provide old paychecks and contracts. I had all of that ready, so I sent it over, and that was accepted.

What did the company actually cover, and what came out of your own pocket?

Honestly, I think I was an outlier here. Everything I had to pay for myself, like the flight and all, was reimbursed. The company had a loft I stayed in for about a month, then I moved to an Airbnb until I found my own apartment, and all of that was also refunded. The only thing I  paid out of pocket the whole time was food.

Any advice on what to negotiate when taking a job abroad?

Start from whatever the company is offering, but check that your standard of living won’t drop once you account for tax. I used that as my benchmark; if my standard of living would be worse in the new country, I wasn’t taking it. 

France has some of the highest taxes in the world, but for me, it’s a functioning system, so it didn’t bother me. I’ll also say that being single at the time made this a lot simpler. If you have a partner or kids, you’ve got a lot more to factor in.

What was your first week in Paris like?

It was rough, in a funny way. My basic French and Duolingo lessons could not save me at all. 

On the first day, I tried to order Nigerian food on Uber Eats, and it was about ���30. I did the conversion to naira in my head and screamed. Another time, I tried to book a ride to work and kept asking drivers in French if they spoke English; three cancelled on me immediately. I eventually just stopped asking and used basic French to get through interactions. 

My first week was a good mix of excitement and being scared, because this was going to be my life from now on.

Is the language still a barrier for you now?

Not really. I’m not yet fluent, but I can navigate a lot of daily life in French. My biggest tip for anyone in the same position is don’t overthink it. I spent my first few days too scared to walk into the supermarket, imagining I wouldn’t be able to explain what I wanted, but when I finally went in, the interaction was extremely simple. 

If you’re stuck, use Google Translate; it won���t cost you anything. I took an audio language course for a while and had a private tutor for the first two to three months, though I eventually stopped the sessions because they started to feel like a chore.

Okay, what’s the cost of living like?

Paris is a completely different market from the rest of France; it’s expensive. The city is divided into 20 districts, and your cost of living depends heavily on which one you’re in. 

For rent: a comfortable, decent-sized solo apartment runs from about ���1,400 to ���2,000 a month. Something smaller might be around ���900. If you’re sharing with others, it can go as low as ���600. 

Food isn’t too bad, partly because my company gives me a monthly food allowance and a transport allowance. They also cover 50���60% of my biking costs since I cycle to work instead of taking transit. Aside from rent, my extra monthly spending ��� groceries, random things for the apartment��� is maybe ���150 to ���200. Rent is easily where most of my money goes.

You���ve been there for almost a year. What do you miss most about Nigeria?

Mostly the food and my friends. I cook a lot here and have found someone who can deliver Nigerian food, but it doesn’t taste the same.

Nobody tells you that the hardest part of leaving is the small things. Back home in Nigeria. I���d end my day with a call with my guys.  And now the call ends, and I’m just alone in my apartment. I miss my friends and family a lot. That said, if all of them were here with me in the EU, I might not think twice about staying for good.

What happens in the long term if you ever lose your job? Would you have to leave France?

France has some of the strongest labour protections in the world, so it’s genuinely hard to get fired without serious cause. That said, the EU Talent Passport is tied to your employer ��� so if I ever did lose this job, I’d need to find a new company willing to sponsor me, or change my visa status, within a few months. 

I’ve also been intentional about building a personal brand, so even in a worst case, I think I’d be okay within a few weeks or months. 

Going back to Nigeria no longer feels feasible to me. I used to run 24 solar panels with battery backup, Starlink, and a generator just to have consistent power and good internet, and I don’t want to go back to managing all of that. My plan is to build something solid in Paris first before I think about moving anywhere else.

What’s your favourite thing about living in Paris?

Surprisingly, it���s cycling. I hadn’t cycled in years before I moved here, and Paris has really good bike lanes, so I cycle to and from work daily. The architecture is beautiful and makes the whole experience worthwhile. 

I had read online that people in Paris are rude, but I’ve found the opposite; everyone I’ve interacted with has been helpful. I once fell off my bike, and a stranger rushed over to help me.

 There���s also a basic sense of safety here; I can walk past police without my heart racing, which isn’t something I could say living in Nigeria.

And what’s something you don’t like about it?

Some parts of the metro have a really unpleasant smell, not all of them, but enough places that it���s concerning. Honestly, I think that’s just a big-city thing; cities like Lagos and New York all have this smell issue, unfortunately.

How have you built community there?

Honestly, it’s been the hardest part. I went to an event for a group called Nigerians in Paris, and it felt lonely; everyone there already knew each other, and I went alone. I haven’t been back since.

What’s worked better for me is taking my time and letting it come to me easily. There���s a guy I met on X before moving here, who introduced me to the guy who now cuts my hair. There���s a friend who also moved to France on a scholarship, whom I meet up with occasionally, someone I met through (a mentorship platform for designers), and a colleague whom I hang out with regularly. I also joined a WhatsApp group for internationals living here, which has been more socially active than the Nigerian one.

I had an experience with someone I met on TikTok who turned manipulative. I noticed a pattern where she seemed to want to be my only source of community here. Knowing I was new and didn’t have many friends yet,  she behaved however she wanted and expected me to put up with it, but I blocked her. My advice from that is to build slowly and prioritise quality over quantity.

Looking back, what’s one mistake you made, or something you’d tell people to do differently?

The biggest one ��� I spent a full month in Paris before I started actually looking for an apartment. I assumed it would work the way it does in Nigeria, where an agent finds you something. 

n France, apartment hunting is more like applying for a job; you submit documents and wait to hear back. Start that search as early as possible, ideally from Nigeria if you can.

One more thing for anyone moving here single: don’t rush into a relationship. Give yourself at least a year to figure out your finances and habits before dating ��� especially in a city like Paris, where every luxury brand you can think of is just a walk down the street.

Anything else you want people to know?

Yeah, don’t be scared to ask questions and do your own research. Many people relocating want to hand everything over to an agent and hope for the best, but those who do their own research tend to land better deals. Use AI or search TikTok and Reddit; someone has already documented exactly what you’re trying to figure out.

On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate life in Paris right now?

I���d rate it a 7.5. It would be a ten if I got my French to a B1 or B2 level; there are a lot of experiences I hold myself back from right now because of the language.

Want to share your japa story? Please reach out to

意鞄艶油��is returning on August 22, 2026, in Lagos! Come learn from finance experts and industry leaders, and partake in unfiltered conversations about building wealth and diversifying your income stream in a country like Nigeria.��Real stories, expert advice you can actually use, and a community ready to build wealth together.��.

When set her mind on leaving Nigeria, Finland wasn���t in the plan, but one Twitter post from a travel consultant changed everything. In this story, she shares how she navigated the country’s joint application system and the one thing she���d warn every prospective applicant about.

Where do you currently live, and when did you leave Nigeria?

I live in Turku, Finland. I left Nigeria in August 2025.

What was life like in Nigeria right before you left?

I travelled a few months after graduating from Kwara State University. I wasn’t working, but I was more or less a full-time content creator on at that point.

Before I left, I had about 40,000 to 50,000 followers. I used to post relatable, funny tweets, but as I got closer to leaving, I started getting more strategic with my content.

Did you consider doing NYSC before you left?

I actually had plans to. My school kept delaying the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) process. I registered, thinking I’d do my orientation and work in between, but they kept extending it until the travel process began. So it wasn’t that NYSC was never in the plan; it just got overtaken by events.

When did you first think of leaving Nigeria?

Honestly, it was way before I graduated. My sister had travelled out on a scholarship before me, so it was already like a blueprint in my mind. 

I knew Nigeria wasn’t going to give me the life I wanted. As early as my 200-level, I kept telling myself I���d start looking for opportunities to leave once I got to the 300 or 400 level. It was always at the back of my mind.

Was Finland always the destination?

No, it wasn’t always Finland. I used to look at Canada, the United Kingdom (UK), and sometimes the United States (US). 

Canada was actually top of my list because my sister lives there, and I felt it’d be easier to go where she was. But sometime in my 300-level, I saw a post on my timeline from a travel consultant about Finland, saying there were many scholarship opportunities and that it was relatively easy to migrate.

I sent him a DM, and he told me to reach out once I was done with school. But I didn’t just wait on that; on my own, I started researching schools, requirements, and the people I needed to talk to .

What did you study for your undergrad, and what pushed you toward your current course?

My undergrad was in Business Administration, and I always wanted to do an MBA. But over time, I started exploring other options and became interested in AI governance. 

Right now, I’m doing my Master’s in Governance of Digitalisation at . It’s a two-year program, and I’m done with coursework. I only have my thesis left to write.

Nice! Let’s get into the process ��� how did you apply to school in Finland?

I used the joint application system, which usually opens in January. You can apply to up to six schools in Finland for a flat fee of ���100. I picked three schools and four courses ��� your course has to align with what you studied for undergrad, they’re strict about that.

Everything from the schools, their courses, requirements, and scholarship provisions is on . Depending on the school, you might need a recommendation letter, an academic CV, a motivation essay, or, in my case, a one-minute video explaining why you chose that school and course and why you deserve a scholarship.

How does the scholarship work?

It’s part of the same joint application. You have the option to pay your own fees or receive financial assistance.  I selected the financial assistance option for all three schools.

I got my first admission in March, with a 50% scholarship. I decided to wait on the other two schools since they were offering higher percentages. Later that March, I was invited to interview at the school I’m at now, and about a month later, I got the 80% scholarship. The third school rejected me. So out of three schools, I got two offers.

How did the visa process go?

I didn���t use a travel agent to apply for the visa. About a month after my admission, I went to , the Finnish Immigration Service, and did it myself. 

What documents did you need for the visa?

The big one is proof of funds. The standard requirement at the time was around ���9,600 to prove you could sustain yourself for a year. I had about ���9,800 in my account. 

They���re also particular about the source of the money. Some people earn funds through salary, some through business ownership, some through selling assets like land or cars, and some through sponsorship. I used my brother’s business as my sponsor.

For sponsorship specifically, they asked for his  Corporate Affairs Commission (CAC) documents, his six-month bank statement, my own three-month bank statement, a signed and stamped sponsorship letter from him, and a cover letter from me explaining the arrangement ��� how much he was sending, when, and how he makes his money.

Beyond that, I submitted my admission letter, my passport data page, my school fee receipt, and proof of health insurance, which I got through for about ���30,000.

Wish someone would just explain what’s going on in Nigeria?
That’s exactly what The Big Daily Newsletter does. We break down Nigeria’s biggest stories, explain what they mean, and why they matter, all in one quick read.

What happened at the visa interview?

The consul asked which school had admitted me and how I was paying my fees.  I told her about the 80% scholarship and explained that I had already paid the remaining 20%, with receipts attached.

I also told her about the sponsorship from my brother and what his business does. That was really it. The whole thing is built around proving your source of funds is genuine.

How long did the visa process take, and how did you feel waiting?

It took 28 days for the decision, then about another week for the residence permit to arrive from Abuja. Honestly, I can’t fully explain how I felt waiting; I was anxious the whole time. I knew I hadn’t touched the money in my account, so there was no reason for a red flag, but I had heard of people waiting from 20 days to a full year for a decision. 

I was in a group chat with other applicants, constantly asking when they were going for their appointments so I could calculate my own timeline. The day my visa came through, I nearly lost my mind.

What did the whole process cost you?

Aside from the ���18 million proof of funds, I estimate I spent around ���5-6 million in total. That covers the ���100 joint application fee (about ���150,000+ at the time), the visa application fee of about ���450 (which came to over ���800,000 paid in person at VFS, plus delivery charges), the ���30,000-ish health insurance, and flights to Abuja first, then to Finland. There���s also the balance of my school fees.

Did you need an English proficiency test?

No, I didn’t. My school gave me a letter of English proficiency instead; there was an exemption specifically for Nigerian students. But it varies; some schools ask for a formal English test. For the general application, you’ll need your transcript, degree certificate, and either the test or the proficiency letter.

What are some mistakes you made during the process?

Just one: when I submitted my visa application, I was sure I had attached everything, but my passport data page didn’t show up on the site. I only caught it a day or two before my VFS appointment and panicked, but it turned out to be a small fix; I just had to re-upload it as an additional document, since the system sometimes drops a file if you’ve attached too many at once. Lesson: always double-check every document actually uploaded, not just that you attached it.

What was the first week in Finland like, and what culture shocks stood out?

I wasn’t overly excited when I landed. I think I was just tired from the two-day journey. It hit me properly on the second or third day.

One early culture shock: public transport runs strictly on schedule. In Nigeria, you can just stand at a bus stop and something will come; here, you check Google Maps, and if you miss the bus, you’re waiting another ten to 20 minutes.

Another one ��� a lecturer once lost 20 minutes to a technical issue in a computer room, and later that day sent an email apologising to the whole class and confirming that the material wouldn’t appear on our exam. I remember thinking that could never happen back home.

Registering as a resident and opening a bank account were another shocker; everything runs by appointment. I waited close to two months to open a Finnish bank account. You can’t just walk into a bank the way you would in Nigeria.

How did you sort out accommodation?

Honestly, this tested my patience the most. I didn’t know anyone in Finland before arriving, and I made the mistake of waiting until my residence permit was approved before applying for student housing. Because of that delay, I didn’t get my own apartment until December, even though I arrived in August.

Before travelling, I messaged someone on Instagram, and she agreed to let me stay with her for the first month if I hadn’t sorted accommodation by the time I arrived; she ended up picking me up from the airport too.

 I stayed with her far longer than a month in the end, and we just clicked. My advice to anyone coming: the moment you get your admission and start your visa application, apply for student housing immediately so you’re not stranded.

What do you love most about living in Finland?

The security and quality of life, honestly. My door can stay unlocked, and I can walk outside at 1 a.m., without anything happening to me. Everything just works. The one thing that drags the experience down is the job market, which is genuinely difficult right now.

How have you built community there?

I have, and my church has been a big part of it. It helps that we’re a Black congregation.

The friend who housed me had already been in Finland a year longer, so she introduced me to her circle, including other international students. A group of us who arrived around the same time now hang out occasionally. Beyond that, I keep a small circle and enjoy my own space. I���m not an extrovert, so being indoors doesn���t bother me much, except that it gets boring sometimes.

Has the language been a barrier?

Yes, especially for jobs ��� that’s actually one of the biggest reasons the job market is difficult for internationals. Finnish people can speak English, but they default to Finnish first, and they take pride in the language. If I say “English, please,” they’ll usually switch, but early on, when I got lost navigating the city, some people would just point me to Google Maps instead. I still don’t speak Finnish ��� I’m learning slowly, but I get by on English day-to-day.

What’s the cost of living like as a student?

It’s still cheap, at least where I am. Student housing ranges from about ���230 to ���250-plus a month, depending on the setup and the city you live in.

Food isn’t too expensive either. As long as you have a job, you’re generally fine. The minimum wage varies by industry, but it’s roughly ���10-���12 per hour, and as a student, you’re allowed to work up to 30 hours per week.

Do you miss Nigeria?

I mostly miss my mum and the general chaos and energy of home. There’s a liveliness in Nigeria that I miss. 

t’s not really about the food, since I still cook Nigerian food here. But if you sent me back right now, I couldn’t last more than three weeks before wanting to return to Finland.

What does the path to permanent residency look like from here?

My residence permit lasts for two years. The rules have recently changed ��� if you complete 15 credit units of Finnish-language coursework while studying, you can now apply for PR much sooner than before, instead of waiting four to five years.

Once my current permit expires, I can also apply for an extended residence permit that gives me time to look for a good job. I don’t know the full details of that process yet, though.

Anything else you want people to know?

Scholarship policies are changing. My school used to offer an 80% scholarship, but that’s gone now. What’s available currently is more of an “early bird” discount, around ���3,000 off if you pay your school fees on time.

Universities across Finland seem to be cutting back on scholarships in general, so anyone considering this route needs to check directly with their target schools rather than assume scholarships like mine are still on the table.

On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate life in Finland?

I’d have said ten, but the job situation knocks off two points. So, eight out of ten.

Want to share your japa story? Please reach out to

意鞄艶油��is returning on August 22, 2026, in Lagos! Come learn from finance experts and industry leaders, and partake in unfiltered conversations about building wealth and diversifying your income stream in a country like Nigeria.��Real stories, expert advice you can actually use, and a community ready to build wealth together.��.

Adedamola (30) left Nigeria for the UK in 2022, eight months pregnant, because she was determined not to give birth in Nigeria. Three years later, she’s a Canadian permanent resident through the express entry pool, thanks to an Instagram comment from a stranger. Here���s how she did it. 

Where do you live now, and when did you leave Nigeria?

I currently live in Calgary, Canada. I left Nigeria in August 2022 for the United Kingdom (UK). 

What pushed you to leave?

Honestly, I had always wanted to leave. I’ve wanted to go to Canada since I was young. But my dad didn’t believe it was right for his single children to travel; he wanted me to marry first, before I could make such a decision. So when I was younger, I’d applied to the United States (US) and Germany before, during my service year, and I still didnt get the visas

The major push for me came on my wedding day (in 2021), when a close friend told me she was leaving for the UK with her husband within days. I remember thinking, ” What am I doing here? Everybody is leaving me.��� It also helped that I had gotten  married now, so my dad couldn’t ask, “Where’s your husband?” There was nothing stopping me anymore.

Add this to my fear of the Nigerian medical system as well. I didn’t want to have children in Nigeria. So had already begun researching schools in the UK on my wedding night, while we counted money.

Interesting story. How did you eventually end up in the UK?

When I was researching, I started with scholarships, but I realised that route would take too long, and I wanted something faster. So I started applying directly to self-funded schools. It’s actually very easy: you email the school, tell them your qualifications, and they go back and forth with you on fees and deposit.

I’d applied to and one other school, but it didn���t work out. Eventually, I found the University of Hull; it was cheap, the deposit was just 贈2,000, which was about ���1 million at the time. 

Once the deposit cleared, the school upgraded my offer from conditional to unconditional and issued me a CAS (Confirmation of Acceptance for Studies). That’s what you use to apply for the student visa online. I was the main applicant since I was the student, and my husband came as my dependent.

The Big Daily Newsletter is your shortcut to the biggest news shaping Nigeria. We cut through the noise, connect the dots, and explain why the news actually matters, all in one quick read.

How much did the entire process cost?

The fees per person were: a visa fee of around 贈300���400, an Immigration Health Surcharge (IHS) of 贈888.05, and a biometrics fee of about 贈69. The visa itself took about two weeks to come, which was fast.

So after paying the fees and getting the visa, what happened next?

I was admitted to the school, and I was expected to resume in September of 2022. By then, I was pregnant and due that same month. I was terrified of giving birth in Nigeria, and also worried that my admission would be revoked if I missed my registration window.

We got our passports back in August, and immediately after, we booked flights to leave in less than three days.

We paid ���2.5 million for two tickets; meanwhile, people travelling around that time who could wait a few weeks paid as little as ���500,000 for a family of three. My doctor was nervous about even certifying me to fly at 35 weeks. I couldn’t eat or drink much on the flight, and I was so anxious. We landed in the UK with very little money, about $150 in cash. 

Oh wow. Did you experience any culture shocks while settling in?

Moving to the UK, where the driver’s side is on the left, was really shocking for me. The cold was also a big shocker; it was a lot to take in, especially since we came when winter was about to start.

The biggest surprise of all was how supportive the system was. When I was anxious about the baby not moving, someone told me to just walk into the emergency department and explain how I felt. They attended to me immediately, even though I hadn���t done my registration yet.

We first stayed with a friend in Birmingham before moving to Hull, where my school helped us find accommodation. Because I was pregnant, our landlord gave us two rooms in a shared house and let us pay three months’ rent upfront. 

Balancing it all was genuinely one of the darkest periods of my life. My husband worked day and night to cover us once the prepaid rent ran out. I had to bring my daughter to class most days, and my lecturers would literally carry her while teaching. It was rough, but it got better with time.

That seems like a lot. What did work and the cost of living actually look like in the UK?

I first worked in a care home with elderly residents. The company had promised to sponsor our visas through a Certificate of Sponsorship (CoS), but once people’s student visas began to expire, they backed out. So I moved to a support work role with an organisation supporting people with disabilities, and stayed there until I left the UK.

There was a lot of racism in the UK, especially in healthcare workplaces, the kind of treatment that made me second-guess ever moving to the UK. 

When it comes to the cost of living, rent for a two-bedroom in the city centre was 贈650 a month. Food was actually cheap in the UK; we’d spend around 贈400 a month, mostly on African groceries since my husband doesn’t eat British food.

Between rent, bills, council tax, and food, we were spending at least 贈1,000 a month against a salary that maxed out around 贈1,600���1,800. It was genuinely hard to save.

Childcare nearly broke me too; it was around 贈60 an hour, and I was earning about 贈12 an hour. That’s part of why I only had one child while in the UK.

So why did you leave the UK for Canada?

The path to actually becoming a citizen was almost impossible. After your student visa, the UK gives you two years post-study to find a job that’ll sponsor you with a CoS. You need five years on that sponsorship before you can apply for indefinite Leave to Remain (ILR), basically the UK’s version of a permanent residence permit and then more time after that (not sure about the exact number of years) before citizenship.

Employers in the UK know you need that CoS, so some of them treat you badly. I wasn’t willing to lock myself into five years of that.

On top of that, the UK kept floating policies to extend the timeline to ten years because so many immigrants had arrived during that period. I’d always wanted Canada anyway; I’d only gone to the UK first because I needed to leave Nigeria immediately.

How did the move to Canada happen?

I had been in Canada’s Express Entry pool since 2020, even before I married my husband. But I never received an invitation because my banking and customer service experience from Nigeria wasn’t in an occupation Canada was actively prioritising. 

Then one day on Instagram, I saw someone comment that she was leaving the UK for Canada, her exact words were, “thank God for healthcare.” I went straight to her DMs to ask what she meant because I had experience working in healthcare.

She told me Canada had started category-based draws, with healthcare as one of the targeted categories, and that support workers and care home staff were counted as healthcare workers, not just doctors and nurses. I had no idea.

That same night, I updated my Express Entry profile with my UK healthcare work experience. I had a score of 475; the draw cutoff was around 465���468. I got my invitation to apply within a month.

That’s so awesome. Can you break down how the Express Entry scoring works?

Two people can have identical scores and get completely different outcomes because Canada runs category-based draws ��� they announce which professions or skills they need at a given time: French speakers, healthcare workers, welders, and electricians are currently preferred over other professions. If your score is high but you’re not in the category they’re pulling from, you won’t get picked.

To enter the pool, you need a degree evaluation and a language test like IELTS. Your score is also shaped by your age, points drop by 5 at each birthday after 30, and your education level.

If you have a master’s or postgraduate degree, you’ll have more points than someone with just a bachelor’s. I already had a master’s degree from Nigeria, so that helped me.

For work experience, the maximum is three years of foreign experience, and you can combine different jobs to reach it. For me, that meant one year in UK healthcare plus two years from my banking job in Nigeria. There’s a you can use to estimate your score before you’re even in the pool.

What were your next steps after getting your visa, and how did you secure housing?

Once the visa was sorted, we started preparing for the move. I actually found an apartment online before landing, but my cousin, who lives here in Calgary, was an incredible help. They went to view the property in person for me to make sure everything was legit, and they helped pay the deposit and the first month’s rent. Having family on the ground to verify things took a massive weight off my shoulders before I even boarded the flight.

Did you experience anything that was different from the UK when you first arrived?

One of the biggest differences was childcare. In Canada, my second daughter got a daycare spot at six months old; I didn���t have postpartum depression partly because of that support. Childcare is cheaper and a whole lot easier to afford now.

How did the job hunt go once you got there?

I was honestly terrified. Everything I saw online about the Canadian job market scared me. A friend who’d been in Canada for years told me the trick was applying in volume: like about  10���15 jobs every single day. I treated it like a job itself, sometimes hitting 20 applications a day. Referrals didn’t work for me.

I also stopped using a generic CV. I tailored each CV to match the specific job description, using ChatGPT to help align my experience with each role’s requirements.

The interview process here is intense; I went through four or five stages for a single role. I eventually landed a customer advisor job at an insurance company in Calgary within three months of arriving, with no industry-specific experience required. They trained me for over a month before I started speaking to customers.

How does the cost of living actually compare between the two countries?

It’s high in Canada, too, but the earning power makes a difference. In the UK, I was earning around 贈1,600���1,800 a month, and my expenses alone were eating over 贈1,000 of that.

In Canada, I was earning about $1,515 biweekly, roughly $3,000 a month, while paying $1,300 for rent and about $150 for electricity. Even when my husband was between jobs, and I was the only one earning, I was still saving close to $1,000���$1,200 a month.

With both of us working, household income would be closer to $6,000, against maybe $2,000 in fixed costs.

Groceries are expensive here too, but it still feels more manageable overall than the UK, where bills, council tax, and childcare left almost nothing behind.

What’s your favourite thing about Canada so far?

I love how family-oriented it is. The childcare support alone changed everything for me, and so far, I haven’t experienced the kind of racism I dealt with constantly in UK workplaces. I feel respected as a human being here, and genuinely at peace.

Any advice for someone considering this route?

Do better research. I see people who’ve followed me online for years still asking me questions I’ve already answered publicly, instead of looking things up themselves. 

I’ve never used an agent for any visa, be it mine, my husband’s, or even my parents’. Agents aren’t doing anything special; if you’d qualify, you’d qualify either way. People get scammed because they refuse to do their own homework.

Any mistakes you’d want others to avoid?

I wish I’d researched the UK more before picking a school. If I’d gone somewhere bigger, say Birmingham, Manchester, or London, instead of Hull, I might have had more opportunities outside healthcare.

I also didn’t realise until after I’d already spent the money that some people were coming from Nigeria with a CoS already arranged, sponsored directly, with visa and accommodation covered. If I’d known that route existed, I could have skipped a lot of the financial stress.

On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your life in Canada right now?

Ten over ten. I feel relieved, at peace, and respected. I don’t have any complaints so far.

Want to share your japa story? Please reach out to me .

意鞄艶油��is returning on August 22, 2026, in Lagos! Come learn from finance experts and industry leaders, and partake in unfiltered conversations about building wealth and diversifying your income stream in a country like Nigeria.��Real stories, expert advice you can actually use, and a community ready to build wealth together.��.

Jumoke* (27) spent years building a career in Lagos until a global design contest she won convinced her that Nigeria was holding her back. She talks about her family’s nine-year wait for Canadian PR, the paperwork setbacks, and why Vancouver has made it all worthwhile.

Where do you currently live, and when did you leave Nigeria?

I currently live in British Columbia, Canada. I left Nigeria in August 2025.

What was life like for you in Nigeria before you left?

I already had a life built around my career. I had an existing community there. I worked as a visual designer, and I enjoyed it.

What pushed you to actually leave?

In 2018,  Adobe was running a contest sponsored by Marvel and Sony, and I won. But I was in the wrong country for it ��� it was a whole back-and-forth, and it took a year before everything was sorted before I could even get the prize I’d won. Just being in a country that wasn’t on their eligible list cost me that much time and stress. That was one of my “I have to move” moments. I felt there’d be more opportunities for me outside Nigeria.

Why Canada specifically?

The United States (US) was actually my first choice early on. I wanted to study Visual Effects (VFX) at a school in Los Angeles so I could eventually work at Marvel Studios. But as the changes in US politics took it off the list. Canada became the next option, mainly because my mum had already been here for a few years and understood how the system worked. Family was a big part of it. It’s also close enough to the US that if I ever wanted to move there later, I still can.

Walk me through the actual route you took to Canada.

I came here as a Permanent Resident (PR) through my mum. I didn’t have to go through the route a lot of people take, which is more strenuous, but mine still took time; we started the process in 2017, and it only clicked last year.

My mum had been there long enough to qualify for permanent residency. Once that clicked for her, she applied for the rest of the family. The COVID-19 pandemic caused some disruptions that delayed things. All in, it took almost a decade, but I���m here now as a permanent resident.

Yikes, nine years is a lot. What did the process actually involve once it got moving?

A lot of forms, honestly. It felt like one small mistake, even a stray full stop, could stop the whole thing from moving forward. There was a lot of back-and-forth with the paperwork. You had to fill out eight to ten forms per person, and we moved as a family, so imagine all of us filling that many forms each, all at once.

Want to share your japa story? Please reach out to me .

What documents did you need to have in place?

Birth certificates, school certificates, basically, whatever certificates you had pertaining to school. A police background check. Photos showing family relationships, so pictures of us together, and my parents’ marriage certificate. And bank statements ��� I think what they also wanted to see there was proof of the jobs I’d held and payments from those jobs. 

Roughly how much did the whole process cost?

The PR application itself costs roughly $10,000. The flights for all of us came to about ���15 million in total. We also had to do medicals twice, actually, at different stages ��� one was basic tests, the other was more in-depth, with X-rays and blood tests for certain diseases, which cost about ���250,000 per person.

Other than COVID, were there any setbacks that slowed things down?

Honestly, I’d say the forms. It felt like our forms kept getting lost, or there’d be mistakes that genuinely shouldn’t have been there. It would take months for them to come back and say a detail was missing, you’d refill it, wait another four or five months hoping for good news, and then hear it’s something else missing. The whole thing was frustrating.

What stood out to you in your first few weeks in Canada?

The people, honestly. Everyone was so much nicer than I expected. 

In my second week here, I walked into Walmart when a Nigerian woman approached me, noticing I was new. She gave me her number and invited me to a Bible study where I met other Nigerians and people from different backgrounds. That’s how I started building community here.��

Also, the system just works. When Google Maps says the bus will arrive in three minutes, it does exactly that.

What do you love most about Canada so far?

Being outside. Where I live, there are mountains everywhere, and the greenery is nothing like what we have in Lagos. Beyond the environment, there���s a feeling of possibility. I no longer feel that government incompetence or random hindrances will stop me from achieving anything I work towards.

And what don’t you love?

The pace, honestly. I don’t feel like I have enough time to actually enjoy things ��� I’m always on the move, always working. I think that’s partly because I’m still building my life here, so I have to lock in now if I want the future I’m picturing for myself.

Interesting, do you think that���s a Canada thing, or just you being ambitious?

Good question, actually. I think it’s more of a Western thing, you know, always being busy, leaving little room for family and friends unless you intentionally create it. I’m learning this. 

How have you been building community for yourself there?

I’d say I’m an introverted extrovert, so it doesn’t come naturally ��� I have to push myself, especially after a few days stuck indoors working. But even with how nice people have been, I still find myself too busy for the friends I do have. So it’s been about intentionally carving out time and accepting that things have to be scheduled here, not spontaneous like back home.

What’s the cost of living like over there?

I didn’t have a job for about ten months after arriving, which, honestly, led to another shock for me: how much the government actually helps you. There’s a program through community centres that serves citizens and new PRs, and that program paid me 1,060 Canadian Dollars (CAD) a month to cover rent, groceries, and living costs while I looked for work. That’s what sustained me and allowed me to contribute to the household rather than leave everything to my parents.

Rents are pretty expensive here. A friend of mine has a one-bedroom and told me she got a good deal, and she still pays around CAD 1,600 a month. 

For transport, I use a transit card, about $2.75 a tap, and any trip within roughly an hour to an hour and fifteen minutes of that first tap is free. Minimum wage here is around $18 an hour, and groceries usually cost me about $70 for a two-week stretch. Friends who’ve been here longer say prices have increased, but right now it seems pretty fair to me.

Do you miss Nigeria, and what specifically?

Sometimes, yes, mostly the community of people. Family, friends, church. I have a church here too, but it’s not quite the same. I miss being able to call someone up to hang out or go to friends��� houses spontaneously.

Any plans to move back, or just visit?

Definitely planning to visit, even next year. Moving back, though, I don’t think so. I might move to another country other than Canada someday, but unless Nigeria sorts itself out, I don’t see myself moving back permanently.

Looking back at the visa process, what should people taking a similar route watch out for?

The route I came through isn’t exactly common, so that’s worth keeping in mind. But generally, make sure anything you state on your forms can be backed up with actual documents, your certificates, your birth certificate, everything. 

I didn’t have my master’s certificate on hand at one point and had to send a statement of completion instead, which, luckily, still worked. Triple-check everything before you submit.

And now that you’ve actually lived there for a while, any mistakes you’d avoid next time?

I wish I had connected more while I was still in Nigeria and maybe even gotten an internship before leaving, even something small, because most employers here want “Canadian experience” no matter how strong your background is elsewhere. They want to see that you’ve worked somewhere in Canada first, even if it was volunteer work. I ended up volunteering to build that experience.

I wish I’d taken LinkedIn more seriously earlier; building connections and a presence there before moving would have helped, since referrals matter a lot here.

What do you do for work now?

I still design. I volunteered with an organisation for about a month. They saw my portfolio and the work I was already delivering, and then told me about a countrywide summer programme that runs for about eight weeks. I applied, and I got it. Now, I’m hoping they retain me permanently, but I’m still sending out applications just in case.

On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate life in Canada so far?

I’ll say eight. The two points I’m taking off are for the family and community I built back in Nigeria, which I don’t have here yet. Outside of that, everything’s been enjoyable. I haven’t run into anything particularly frustrating yet, no political unrest, no government incompetence ��� though I know I’m still fairly new, so there’s a lot I haven’t experienced yet.

意鞄艶油��is returning on August 22, 2026, in Lagos! Come learn from finance experts and industry leaders, and partake in unfiltered conversations about building wealth and diversifying your income stream in a country like Nigeria.��Real stories, expert advice you can actually use, and a community ready to build wealth together.��.

After Victoria graduated from university, she spent two years applying for scholarships but was rejected multiple times. In 2024, it finally clicked, and she moved to the Netherlands on a full scholarship. In this story, she tells us how she did it.

Where do you live currently, and when did you leave Nigeria?

I’m in Wageningen, Netherlands. I moved here in August 2024 to start my master’s degree.

What made you want to leave Nigeria?

After earning my bachelor’s degree, I wanted to pursue a master’s abroad to gain exposure to higher-quality education. But, like many Nigerians, I didn’t have the money to fund studies overseas, so I started looking for scholarships. I actually began the search during my National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) year; that’s even when I got my passport, specifically because I was already planning to apply.��

Before you left the country, what were you doing?

I studied agricultural administration at FUNAAB, so my degree had a management component and wasn’t purely science-based. During NYSC, I was posted to teach agriculture at a school. After that, I got a job as an HR officer.

I worked for two years while also being heavily involved in community-focused projects. I volunteered with Non-Governmental Organisations (NGOs) working on the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), particularly on zero hunger and quality education, and I co-founded a waste-management business that converted tomato waste into tomato pur辿e.

When did you begin looking for scholarship opportunities?

I���ve always been looking, even during my NYSC. I was just applying everywhere and getting rejected for about two years before I finally got one.
I applied to the United States (US), the United Kingdom (UK), Italy, and the Netherlands. I was looking for full funding wherever I could find it. I ultimately focused more on the Netherlands because of its strength in agricultural studies; is ranked the best agricultural university in Europe, and I’m very passionate about agriculture.

Want to share your japa story? Please reach out to me.

Walk me through the application process. How did you actually apply to WUR?

The application for admission is submitted through the platform. You submit your CV, your official university transcript and a motivation letter. I applied to the Development and Rural Innovation program and got my offer of admission within two weeks. For your CV, I recommend using the Erasmus CV format.

The scholarship process began after the admission offer. I was nominated for the (ASP) in March 2024. The nomination comes from the university; you don’t apply for it directly, you’re selected after you’ve been admitted.

Once nominated, you’re given a two-week assignment to write a research proposal and answer specific motivation letter questions they set. Then, if your assignment is accepted, you’ll be invited to an interview.

Interesting. What was the interview like?

They ask you to explain your research proposal to show that you actually wrote it yourself. They also ask you to revisit your motivation: what your goals are, and how you will be relevant in Africa or the world when you’re done. I expressed myself clearly, and by May, I got the success email. That was when I knew I had the scholarship. I packed my bags and moved to the Netherlands.

What did the scholarship actually cover?

Everything. Tuition fees (over 贈25,000), travel costs (including a return ticket to Nigeria if I want to visit), and a monthly stipend of about 贈1,200. The total package is close to 贈100,000.

They also handled all the immigration documentation themselves. I didn’t need to show proof of funds or arrange anything for the visa. I just took my passport and my scholarship letter to the Nigerian embassy, they stamped it, and that was it.

That���s very impressive. Did you have to pay for anything during the entire process?

The only thing I paid for was the IELTS exam, which was about ���96,000 at the time, and maybe my transport to the embassy. Funny enough, I paid for my IELTS exam with money I won in a Big Brother Africa prediction contest. I won $150. So technically, even that, I didn’t pay from my savings.

Wow, that���s so cool. I’m curious, though, how did you tailor your work experience to fit the programme? 

First off, it���s very important that you don’t put things in your CV that don’t connect to the program you’re applying for. When I was building my CV, I didn’t include my HR experience because it didn’t align with the program I was applying to. I focused on my volunteer work with NGOs advancing the SDG goals, specifically zero hunger and quality education, and on a waste management business I co-founded with a friend. The kind of work that impacts your community and seeks to solve a problem sustainably is exactly what these programs want to see.

Even if the experience feels small, like a student project, if it connects to what you want to study, put it in. They want to see that you’re already making an impact, not just that you have professional experience in any field.

And the motivation letter, how should someone approach it?

This one is very important, and I could go on and on about it. Don’t write a secondary school essay. Don’t write “I am very skilled in data analysis, and I got a first class,” that’s not what they’re looking for. A motivation letter has to tell a story; mine began with me being the first girl in my community to attend university. I narrated how my parents struggled to fund my education, how, despite that difficulty, I pushed through, got strong grades, started volunteering, and co-founded a business. I built a narrative that identifies a problem, a struggle, resilience, and a vision for solving that problem.

One of the girls who got the Africa Scholarship Programme this year wrote her entire letter around the concept of Abiku, the Yoruba belief in children who are fated to die young and keep returning. She framed her life story through that lens. That’s the kind of thing that makes a recruiter stop, because the question they’re really trying to answer is: what will carry this person through two years of a hard master’s program when everything feels like too much? Not necessarily the skills they have.

You mentioned two years of rejections before this. What kept you going?

I started applying in 2022, and I didn’t get a scholarship until 2024. At some point, I almost gave up. But here’s what I always say now: the scholarship application you don’t submit is already a rejection. So keep submitting. Even if you don’t feel ready, submit. You never know the one that���d click. The breakthrough might come from the application you almost didn’t send.

What was it like when you arrived in the Netherlands?

The thing that hit me hardest was how straightforward Dutch people are. There’s a difference between being rude and being direct, but sometimes with Dutch people, that line is very thin. I once watched a student tell a lecturer in the middle of class that her published paper was “trash.” The lecturer felt so bad that she started sobbing, but to him, it was just critical feedback. I���ve noticed the same straightforwardness among Dutch people in other instances. That kind of thing takes real adjustment to get used to.

Another shocking thing was the weather. I arrived at the end of summer, and I was not prepared for how cold it was or how dark it got by 4 pm. In the first six months, I felt depressed, homesick and lonely for most of the time, but after a while I got used to it. It also helps that there are strong Black communities here, especially if you ever go to bigger cities like Amsterdam.

What���s the cost of living there like? How far does the ���1,200 actually go?

If you’re frugal, you can survive and even save on the monthly stipend. Rent is the biggest thing that takes your money here. It typically runs between 贈500 and 贈600 a month, so almost half the stipend goes there immediately. If you’re disciplined with the rest, you should be able to save at least 30% of the monthly stipend, but if you’re an odogwu spender, it will not be enough.

Yeah, that makes sense. Can students work on the side?

Yes, as a student, you can work up to 16 hours a week, but only if it doesn’t affect your grades. If your performance drops below the scholarship’s threshold, they’ll withdraw the funding and send you back. So be careful. 

If you speak Dutch, the opportunities are wide open. But without Dutch, you’re mostly limited to manual work like cleaning, babysitting, delivery, and warehouse jobs. Formal office roles almost always require Dutch.

What do you love most about the Netherlands?

The peace. Honestly, if you are living here legally and your papers are in order, you will have a genuinely good life. It’s a law-abiding, structured country. There’s no chaos. I sometimes just stay home, watching YouTube and working on my data analytics skills, and I feel completely settled. That kind of stability is something I deeply appreciate.

Is there anything that has made living in the Netherlands difficult?

If I���m going to be honest, there hasn���t really been. The hardest thing I’ve experienced, I’d say, was when I wanted to go to Nigeria to do my thesis fieldwork, and the university said I couldn’t because Nigeria is on its red zone list for security. That was so painful. I’m a Nigerian student trying to return to my home country for research, but my institution didn���t consider it safe enough. I had to conduct all my interviews online instead. It worked out, but it was so painful. It���s really sad that Nigeria has that reputation. I’m always having to defend my country to people here.

Do you miss Nigeria?

Don’t make me cry. I miss it so much. I miss the social warmth, the fact that there’s always someone who cares what’s happening with you. Here, you mind your business, whether you like it or not. The loneliness is always in the background, even when you have friends.

At some point, you realise you can’t fully get used to their way of living, and you still want that intimacy. But for stability? I prefer life here. The trade-off is clear to me.

Do you have any plans to return?

I’m not moving back permanently, even though I miss home. My scholarship includes a return ticket, and they encourage you to come back; it looks good on their records and keeps Nigeria on the list of countries they recruit from. So I’ll probably visit and come back. That’s what most of the previous scholars do. My student visa is valid for two years, so there’s flexibility.

Any mistakes you’d warn people about?

I got so locked into academics that I didn’t attend conferences, even though my scholarship covers conference costs. I was a bit intimidated. As a Black person in a very white academic space, that feeling of not fully belonging is real, even when nobody is being hostile. So, my advice is to throw yourself in anyway. Talk to your supervisors, share your ideas even when they feel half-formed, and make friends outside your immediate circle. Those connections are how internships happen, how PhD opportunities come up, and how you build a life here.

What would you say to anyone who wants to follow this exact path?

Do it yourself. I cannot stress this enough: do not use agents. All the information you need is on Google, on the official university website, and it’s free. Agents will take your money and tell you things you could have found yourself. Research the scholarship and the program; tailor your application.

And be honest with yourself about whether you actually like reading. This is a master’s program; it can be rigorous. If you are not a reader, this is not the route for you. But if you are, get your passport, get your transcripts, build a CV that reflects the work you’ve actually done, write a heartfelt motivation letter, and keep applying until something lands. The application you don’t submit is already a rejection.

On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate life in the Netherlands?

It���s an eight. I want to say ten because life here is genuinely sweet, peaceful, structured and straightforward. But ten is for God. What I will say is that the job market, especially if you’re in the biotech space, is excellent. Organisations like Unilever recruit students here for internships that often lead directly to permanent work visas. If you position yourself well and put yourself out there, you will get what you’re looking for.

意鞄艶油��is returning on August 22, 2026, in Lagos! Come learn from finance experts and industry leaders, and partake in unfiltered conversations about building wealth and diversifying your income stream in a country like Nigeria.��Real stories, expert advice you can actually use, and a community ready to build wealth together.��.

Folake* (22) left Nigeria in November 2023, one year before completing her Mass Communication degree, to move to the UK on a skilled worker visa. In this story, she tells us how she moved with her family, how she got the care job and the reasons she left in the first place.

Where do you currently live, and when did you leave Nigeria?

I live in the UK. I left Nigeria in  2023.

What were you doing before you left?

I was a 19-year-old university student., I was in 300-level and I was studying Mass Communication.

Wow, you had just one year to go. What made you decide not to finish?

Honestly, I didn’t put much thought into it. Nigeria was getting worse. It wasn’t that things were so bad for me personally at the time, but you could see that it wasn’t going to get better anytime soon.

So I looked at the situation and asked myself: ���Okay, finish school, and then what?��� I would have had a communications degree, but that wasn’t going to get me very far in that environment. The UK felt like a place where I could try things, switch directions if something didn’t work out, and not feel like I was starting from zero every time.

Was it hard to leave school behind?

A year before I moved, I had already tried to make it happen on my own; this was around my 100-level second-semester, during the long ASUU strike. I got a job lead and tried to apply for a visa, but it wasn’t coming through quickly enough, so I let it go and figured it would happen when it did.

By the time I got to 300 level, things were looking really grim, and there was a change on the family front: my parents were moving to the UK. I had to decide whether to stay back to finish or leave with them. I decided to leave, and having my parents involved made the difference this time around. If I had done it alone, it would have been a real struggle, financially and emotionally. But with my family’s support, I barely had to deal with the logistics. I went to my embassy interview; they called me to say my visa was ready, and I packed my bags.

Walk me through the visa application process. What type is it and how does it work?

I’m on a skilled worker visa. Basically, you need to get a job with an employer who is willing to sponsor you. The UK has a list of jobs that qualify under the skilled worker route, including healthcare, some tech roles, and others. My job was in mental health support, which falls under healthcare.

Once your employer agrees to sponsor you, they issue you something called a Certificate of Sponsorship. You take that, along with your other documents, and submit an application to the Home Office for your visa.

What documents did you need to submit?

The Certificate of Sponsorship number, your passport, and proof of funds. Sometimes they also ask for a job offer letter and a contract of employment. In my case, I had the offer letter but not the contract yet; the contract came when I arrived in the UK. So in my application, I noted that the contract wouldn’t be available until I was on the ground, and that was fine.

Your job was in mental health support. How did you find it?

My aunt knew someone who owned a care company and mentioned there were openings. That was it. It was an entry-level role, so I didn’t need prior experience in the field. As long as you can show good communication skills, demonstrate that you’re willing to be trained, and you���re good at your maths and English abilities, you can get those jobs. It’s a bit harder now because employers want more certifications upfront, but at the time, the interview was enough.

Are skilled worker visa holders allowed to work other jobs aside from the one that sponsored them? 

On a skilled worker visa, you’re allowed to take on additional part-time work, but you can’t exceed 20 hours a week across those extra roles. The other important thing is that the extra work has to be in the same industry as the job that brought you in. Because I came in through mental health support, I can do any other type of care work on the side ��� domiciliary care, a care home, or children’s support. It just has to stay within the care space.

Want to share your japa story? Please reach out to me.

What’s the pay like? Is it worth it in your opinion?

It���s around 贈12.50 an hour, though you get more if you work on the weekends or public holidays. You can earn up to 贈13 to 贈15 on those days. For the kind of care work involved, I think some people should be paid more; the rate should reflect the level of need you’re managing, because not every client is the same. But it’s not as if they’re underpaying you. It’s a livable wage. If you’re working four days a week, doing 12-hour shifts, you can earn between 贈1,800 and 贈2,000 a month. If you pick up extra work, you can get to around 贈2,500.

And what does monthly life cost where you live?

My city is cheaper than London, but it’s not cheap either. If you live on your own, your rent, council tax, water, and electricity should come to around 贈1,200-贈1,500 a month. Add food, phone, and any other bills, and 贈1,500 is a realistic ceiling. So the margin isn’t massive, especially on a single income, but it’s workable. That phase doesn’t last forever if you’ve got a plan.

What was your first week in the UK like?

Very uneventful. I arrived in winter, went straight from the airport to the house, and was indoors almost the entire time. I was doing my mandatory online training before starting the job, surrounded by family. There wasn’t much culture shock right away; it was more gradual. The thing that stood out eventually was how individualistic life here is. 

In Nigeria, you walk around, and people acknowledge you; you know people’s business, and they know yours. Here, everyone is on their own. Nobody is really paying attention to what’s going on with you. That took some adjusting.

Have you been able to find community?

It’s difficult, honestly. I think it’s easier if you come in as a student because you’re in class with people, and you can find your people naturally. As a young worker, it’s harder. At most of the places I’ve worked, I’ve been the youngest person by a significant margin, so connecting with colleagues hasn’t been easy. I did a diploma programme here to qualify for university entry, and that’s where I’ve made a few friends. I’ve heard Hinge has a “friends” mode that some people use to find community. I haven’t tried it personally, but people say it works.

What do you love most about being in the UK?

I love the financial freedom. I wasn’t working in Nigeria, so I was fully dependent on my parents. Now that I earn, I can make my own plans, and they are likely to actually work out. There’s not much that will derail you if you’ve got something going. It’s a stable economy. That stability is everything.

Is there anything you genuinely don’t like?

It’s boring and lonely. Especially when you didn’t grow up here, and you don’t already have a ready-made social circle. That’s the real trade-off nobody talks about enough. I don’t regret moving with my family. I genuinely could not imagine doing this alone.

Have you experienced racism or prejudice?

Nothing overt, at least not to my face. The Brits are a bit more posh about it, unlike Americans. I’ve had a few strange looks and a few interactions that would have gone differently if I were someone else. There are experiences at work, even from clients who are supposed to be experiencing mental health difficulties, where you can tell race is a factor in the way they treat you. If you’re in the middle of an episode and you can still clock that I’m Black and say something racist, that says something about you.

The racism I face has been more systemic. There are things my white colleagues are afforded the space to do that I would face consequences for, and sometimes the person enforcing that isn’t even white themselves. It���s internalised hate. And there’s also the reality of being an immigrant whose visa is tied to the job; that vulnerability means many people absorb behaviour from employers they absolutely shouldn’t have to.

Do you miss Nigeria?

Yes. I miss the lifestyle ��� being a student, being carefree, not having this much at stake. I miss the way you can just be yourself back home, around people who’ve known you your whole life. The freedom of not having a visa hanging over your decisions. I’m not the type to tolerate rubbish from people, but I find myself having to calculate things here in a way I never would have at home. And the food. I miss the food.

Do you have plans to go back?

Not permanently, no, at least not based on what I can see right now. I might not stay in the UK forever, but I don’t see myself moving back to Nigeria. My plan is to get my midwifery degree here, and once I build something like that here, it wouldn’t make sense to leave a pound-earning life unless things seriously improve back home. Nigeria needs help. It really does. As for visiting, yes, I want to, but the degree is coming out of pocket, so financially it’s just not happening right now.

What advice would you give someone who wants to follow this exact route?

Build yourself up as quickly as you can once you arrive. Get your driver’s licence done. Get your care certifications, your National Vocational Qualification (NVQ) Level 3 or Level 5, whatever level is appropriate for where you’re starting from. 

The reason this matters is that it gives you options. There is a lot of employer abuse that happens in this industry, especially with immigrants, and the visa situation makes people feel trapped. If you’ve got your certifications, you can move to a different job. 

So don’t stay in a situation that doesn’t serve you just because you’re afraid of losing sponsorship. Start job hunting while you’re still in that job, make the transition, but don’t let bad employers hold you hostage.

On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your life in the UK?

I���d say a Seven. I don’t like stress, and this is stressful. I���m happy, though. Every plan I have is moving, slowly, but moving. Nothing is derailing it. That’s what I came here for, and it’s happening. So seven feels right.

Click here to see what other people are saying about this article on Instagram

意鞄艶油��is returning on August 22, 2026, in Lagos! Come learn from finance experts and industry leaders, and partake in unfiltered conversations about building wealth and diversifying your income stream in a country like Nigeria.��Real stories, expert advice you can actually use, and a community ready to build wealth together.��.