I remember the day I was moving back home.
I had been booked on a BA flight. I got to the airport about 3hrs ahead of time with three weighty bags and sweaty palms. It was going too smoothly to be true. And then of course, I hadn't thought I'd need a transit visa to go to Lagos through London, but with the new Terminal at Heathrow... 'Sorry Ma'am, you won't be able to travel today, or anytime in the next few weeks because you have to get a transit visa'. See crying... I think the tears were really because of the uncertainty I was feeling; they were just masked in the uncomfortable situation at the time. It was all fixed somehow, and I still travelled that day.
Wait, why did I start this epistle... Oh yes! The day I moved back home... So, I called my 'sisters' to say good bye, and it was time to switch off all electronic devices and I was like, 'Shit, what have I done?'. At that point, it had all come to an end. There was no turning back, I couldn't pull a 'Stop the plane, I can't leave the love of my life' stunt, like in the movies.
I started school in Chicago at the age of 17. I was so excited. My family friends had been at the same school, and there was so much to look forward to. I had been itching for my freedom, and I finally had it. Whoa! I didn't become a wild child, but I definitely enjoyed the liberty of going out without permission, and doing my homework when I felt like it, not when Daddy ordered for it to be done. School was fun! (Not needing permission to hang out with boys too was a blast! Lol)
I did two interships in my Junior and Senior years, and I somewhat established myself in the industry, so I had to reason to think there wouldn't be any glitches when it was time to get a job. Right? Wrong!
Finals ended on the 14th of December, 2007. I gave myself a two month holiday, anticipating that the offer letters would pour in, and I'd be confused about which job to choose. How foolish. By the time my family came to celebrate my graduation the following May (2008), I was still waiting to be confused, and the recession was getting fatter. Did I mention being broke? Meeeeen! I was the definition of broke. My folks had stopped sending me pocket money when I got my first on-campus job. At this point though, they knew I was struggling, so they helped out once in a while. It was not a pretty sight. I braided hair, did flower arrangements, catered for my friends' get-togethers, did administrative work at my church and all other sorts to make sure I didn't see red in my bank account.
The companies were not excited about hiring this intelligent black female engineer (sorry, I had to toast myself a lil), cos she was a foreign student. They would have to prove that there was no American citizen who could take up the job she was to be hired for. Plus, they would make this huge investment to get her a work wisa, without a guarantee that she would get it. It wasn't worth the hassle, as far as they were concerned. Meanwhile, my work permit was wasting away. It was valid from February 2008 to February 2009.
I got fat because I cooked for therapy. I was very excited about feeding people, and myself of course. It was pretty much the only feeling of fulfilment I got. I remember picking up my phone one day after talking to God, and sending a text: "Mummy, I want to come back home". She called me immediately because she thought I was crying. I was so calm about it, that I was sure I was doing the right thing.
Somehow, I found myself in New Jersey for three months that I dreaded with all my life; living in a village and working as a sales personnel at Joyce Leslie.
I think the best thing about being back home for me is that I am doing something. I've been called a busybody many times, so that's not suprising actually. I mean, it's not been a jolly ride all along. I miss the CTA. I miss going out because I want to, not because Daddy finally allowed me. I miss my church.
Though I wake up some days longing for the security and irresponsibility that a classroom allows you, and though I haven't the faintest idea what I'd have done with myself in the next year or two, I love that I'm at home. I love that this is my own land of opportunity.
I'm just as excited as you to see where my life goes from here.
I had been booked on a BA flight. I got to the airport about 3hrs ahead of time with three weighty bags and sweaty palms. It was going too smoothly to be true. And then of course, I hadn't thought I'd need a transit visa to go to Lagos through London, but with the new Terminal at Heathrow... 'Sorry Ma'am, you won't be able to travel today, or anytime in the next few weeks because you have to get a transit visa'. See crying... I think the tears were really because of the uncertainty I was feeling; they were just masked in the uncomfortable situation at the time. It was all fixed somehow, and I still travelled that day.
Wait, why did I start this epistle... Oh yes! The day I moved back home... So, I called my 'sisters' to say good bye, and it was time to switch off all electronic devices and I was like, 'Shit, what have I done?'. At that point, it had all come to an end. There was no turning back, I couldn't pull a 'Stop the plane, I can't leave the love of my life' stunt, like in the movies.
I started school in Chicago at the age of 17. I was so excited. My family friends had been at the same school, and there was so much to look forward to. I had been itching for my freedom, and I finally had it. Whoa! I didn't become a wild child, but I definitely enjoyed the liberty of going out without permission, and doing my homework when I felt like it, not when Daddy ordered for it to be done. School was fun! (Not needing permission to hang out with boys too was a blast! Lol)
I did two interships in my Junior and Senior years, and I somewhat established myself in the industry, so I had to reason to think there wouldn't be any glitches when it was time to get a job. Right? Wrong!
Finals ended on the 14th of December, 2007. I gave myself a two month holiday, anticipating that the offer letters would pour in, and I'd be confused about which job to choose. How foolish. By the time my family came to celebrate my graduation the following May (2008), I was still waiting to be confused, and the recession was getting fatter. Did I mention being broke? Meeeeen! I was the definition of broke. My folks had stopped sending me pocket money when I got my first on-campus job. At this point though, they knew I was struggling, so they helped out once in a while. It was not a pretty sight. I braided hair, did flower arrangements, catered for my friends' get-togethers, did administrative work at my church and all other sorts to make sure I didn't see red in my bank account.
The companies were not excited about hiring this intelligent black female engineer (sorry, I had to toast myself a lil), cos she was a foreign student. They would have to prove that there was no American citizen who could take up the job she was to be hired for. Plus, they would make this huge investment to get her a work wisa, without a guarantee that she would get it. It wasn't worth the hassle, as far as they were concerned. Meanwhile, my work permit was wasting away. It was valid from February 2008 to February 2009.
I got fat because I cooked for therapy. I was very excited about feeding people, and myself of course. It was pretty much the only feeling of fulfilment I got. I remember picking up my phone one day after talking to God, and sending a text: "Mummy, I want to come back home". She called me immediately because she thought I was crying. I was so calm about it, that I was sure I was doing the right thing.
Somehow, I found myself in New Jersey for three months that I dreaded with all my life; living in a village and working as a sales personnel at Joyce Leslie.
I think the best thing about being back home for me is that I am doing something. I've been called a busybody many times, so that's not suprising actually. I mean, it's not been a jolly ride all along. I miss the CTA. I miss going out because I want to, not because Daddy finally allowed me. I miss my church.
Though I wake up some days longing for the security and irresponsibility that a classroom allows you, and though I haven't the faintest idea what I'd have done with myself in the next year or two, I love that I'm at home. I love that this is my own land of opportunity.
I'm just as excited as you to see where my life goes from here.
1 response(s):
I'm just about to do the same thing! I live in Chicago right now, I leave for Nigeria in a week and i am freaking out!!! My OPT is about over, no job offers, broke and well...just wanting to go to a country that I am not considered a "foreigner". Its such a God thing that i just found this blog. I'm gonna read alll you guy's entries because i NEED to know what to expect. Thanks all for taking the time to share your experiences! God bless :)
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