Wafricnews - June 23, 2025

When the dream becomes heavier than the reality, where do you turn?

For one Nigerian abroad, the weight of regret now outweighs the joy of escape. In a heartfelt confession that mirrors the untold stories of thousands caught in the “japa” wave, a young man opens up about how he sold off a precious family asset — his late father’s land — in pursuit of a life abroad, only to find out that not every foreign street is paved with gold.

The land in question sat in Ikorodu, Lagos — land his father often described as “backup for the future.” It was more than real estate; it was legacy. But in the haze of joblessness, societal pressure, and daily survival, that legacy became a passport out.

At 27, with no job and endless rejection emails, frustration turned into resolve. His peers were relocating to the UK, Canada, Germany — flaunting their new lives on social media. Meanwhile, he was stuck, relying on noodles and borrowed data.

So, he did what many in silence have done — he sold the land.

With ₦7.8 million in hand, ₦2.5 million went to an agent for a Canadian study visa. The rest vanished into visa proof-of-funds, flight prep, and appearances — a laptop, a coat, packaging to ‘belong.’

When the visa finally came out, he cried tears of relief. “God has done it,” he thought. Until the agent called again: “Your balance is due.” He had nothing left. No more funds. No support system. And no way back.

Months later, in a cold room somewhere overseas, all he thinks about is that land — the land his father cleared by hand, walked with pride, and called “the inheritance.”

He dreams of returning. But how does he walk back into his mother’s presence, knowing he lied to her face? How does he tell his siblings that their shared inheritance is gone, spent on a life that hasn’t started?

The truth is, many who japa do not speak up when things go sideways. Social media only shows the snow, not the struggle. Beneath the jackets and scenic selfies are countless young Nigerians, stuck between broken dreams and homes they’re too ashamed to return to.

This is not a story of failure. It’s a story of real choices, real consequences, and a system that keeps pushing young people to trade everything just to breathe.

As Nigeria continues to battle unemployment, inflation, and dwindling hope, more stories like this will remain buried under silence — unless we create a country worth staying for.