Diaspora Diary: Why Honesty Is Your Best Path To Migration.

Cmoni
7 min readAug 16

If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.~ Virginia Woolf

In his younger years, Okoro was your normal guy man. Smart, suave and sophisticated. He found his way to Europe after graduating from the University and joined friends who made money the usual way: thru deals! He enjoyed the fast lane and soon married an upscale lady.

It didn’t take long for that union to crash. The collapse of his marriage rang the first alarm that man shall not live by bread alone. It was becoming clear that his lifestyle as a bachelor won’t cut it if he wants to be a responsible family man like his dad before him. Some things must be ditched.

Okoro decided to do real business. He will ship goods back home to Nigeria and sell them for profit. The business progressed and soon enough he was introduced to a beautiful working-class lady in Lagos. Their relationship blossomed and was enough to pull him back home for good or so he thought, after all, he already has a growing business.

Our man flew back home, had an elaborate wedding and started building a family with a child coming the following year. However, as the years flew by, the economy continued on a downward slope. Once again the thought of relocation resurfaced and having discussed this with his wife they agreed that being an American citizen, she will move first with their kid and he will join them later.

She moved and filed the necessary papers for him. After a couple of visits to the embassy, the visa officer invited Okoro into the inner room for further discussion. As he was led through a hallway, his heartbeat felt like an Uber driver ploughing around a parking lot in an endless search for a free space. He didn’t know what to expect but something didn’t feel right.

In a small room with scanty furniture Okoro sat with palms on knees. He just didn’t feel comfortable. The months that passed since his family left suddenly paled in comparison to the infinite seconds that ticked by. His confidence was at the nadir since his embassy sojourn as the young Afrasian officer started the conversation.

“Your application has been approved”, he said pointedly.
“Thank God!” the exclamation escaped Okoro’s breath…

Cmoni

I write about socio-political issues and whatever I find interesting .