Today marks 10 years since I arrived in Canada.

This is the first of a series of reflection post I’ll be sharing on this journey this week.

Growing up in Ebute Metta, political conversations were daily bread. My Dad’s office on Kano Street was right beside a shop where Punch newspapers are delivered every day. That shop became my first window to the world. The office itself was a hub for politically conscious men, elites who gathered to debate and analyze the country’s issues.

I was just a small boy, but I sat with them, listened, and soaked up their wisdom like a sponge. By 1996-1998, I could name every military administrator in every Nigerian state, in 1999 when we return to Democracy, I can conveniently mention all the Federal Minister and their portfolio off hand, I know the name of all the 36 Governors off hand, That was how early my political awareness started.

I love Nigeria so much, but unfortunately I couldn’t see hope. I couldn’t see my future there. I told myself early on, I must become a citizen of a first-world country. Not for anything,but for the relatively certainty. I knew as early as 15yrs old that Nigeria’s reality would always be one of rollercoaster of one bad leadership to another.

Living in Ebute Metta also planted the seed of “Japa” early in my heart. Nearly every compound had someone living abroad. It felt like a normal path. I always believed I’d live part of my adult life outside Nigeria, I just didn’t know when or how. But I dreamed. I worked. And by God’s grace, it eventually happened.

For some reason, despite being the last born, my siblings believed in me. They believed in my energy, my drive, my ambition. My parents, too, gave me special attention.

After secondary school, through my eldest sister(Iya Mariam) I got the contact of someone that can help me process UK Visa). My elder brother Abdul Wasiu (our third-born) took a leap of faith on me and sponsored my first travel processing to the UK with ₦70,000. I got a passport under a fake Surname “Usman” to align with someone who would act as my father who already have a UK Visa, That attempt failed. Money wasted. At that time it’s somehow easy to get multiple passport. I got another passport and move on.

I wrote JAMB, gained admission into university, study computer science for 4yrs focused on my studies. Two months after my final exams, I got a Japan Visa, so break the news to my family my big brother our first-born sponsored my Japan trip. The whole family celebrated “Tunde has finally Japa’d!”

But sadly, I got to Tokyo Japan, spent 3 days, and was deported. I returned home to the dusty street of Ejigbo in Lagos like a failure.

That experience broke me. I silently battled depression and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) for about 2 years. But I kept going.

I did NYSC in Calabar two month after and never stopped chasing opportunities. I studied for and earned my Cisco (CCNA) certification while processing travel to different countries: I tried Germany, Qatar, Lithuania, Turkey, Mexico and Italy. I got rejected by every one of them. Visa after visa, nothing worked.

In 2013, I decided I want to marry, I got married, I rented a small apartment in Anthony Village, I was helping my brother sell cars and personally hustling by getting some Local Purchasing Order (LPO) here and there from one company to another as I couldn’t get a Job. I supply cement and gravels to construction companies.

An angel came in the form of my Big cousin from my mother side, Mr. Wakil (who i am highly indebted to), With his assistance I landed a Graduate Trainee opportunity with Etisalat Nigeria. That same year, my breakthrough came.

2 month after I started the new job, one of my university friend, Alex, connected me to someone who knew someone who knew the U.S. Ambassador. I was given a “Class A Referral Letter” 10 of us went to the US embassy with it in April 2013. Everyone was granted a visa. When it got to my turn, I didn’t hear my name well, got confused, and was turned back. I cried bitterly that day. I blamed it on “village people.”😄

Then came June 11, 2013.

My wife was at the hospital in labour. My mom called: “It’s a boy!” Faisal was born!

Two minutes later after dropping the call with my Mom, another call came. It was a land line number, I heard a voice that sounds like a white person She said “We’re calling from the U.S. Embassy. There was a mistake on your application. The Ambassador instructed we should invite you, not for an interview, but to come and drop your passport for your Visa issuance.

Just like that, I got a 2-year U.S. visa.
That one call broke every jinx, and since then, my life hasn’t remained the same.

In January 2014, I boarded Delta Airlines, Lagos to Atlanta. I was terrified the whole 14-hours flight, afraid I’d be deported again.

But when I got to immigration, I was the only person on the queue not asked a single question. They stamped my passport and said,
“Welcome to America.”

I’ve learned that God always has a better plan. Your dreams are valid, keep
Pushing.

To everyone waiting for their own breakthrough, it will come. Delay is not denial. Your own call is coming.

This is only part one of my reflection post, more to come: stay tuned*

— Yusuf Babatunde Yusuf