26/10/2025
I Regretted Travelling and Training My Children Abroad
When I look back now, sometimes I just sit and sigh deeply. If someone had told me that travelling abroad would come with this kind of hidden price, I would have argued. My name is Tunde, a married man from Nigeria, and this is my truth.
When we first landed in the UK, everything looked perfect, the neat streets, the calm weather, the polite smiles. My wife and I believed we had finally arrived at the “promised land.” I remember saying, “Omo, we don make am!” But we didn’t know that survival here isn’t about how fast you run, it’s about how long you can endure.
At first, we struggled to get decent accommodation, landlords wanted proof of income, and jobs weren’t easy to come by without “UK experience.” My wife, a graduate back home, started working as a cleaner in a care home. I, too, joined the hustle , doing night shifts in warehouses, sometimes two jobs at once. Sleep became a luxury. We smiled in pictures for family back home, but behind those smiles were swollen feet and endless bills.
Then came the children, our pride and joy. We were determined to give them the best. We worked so hard just to keep them in good schools. But with time, something changed. The same children we sacrificed everything for started drifting away. The values we grew up with in Nigeria which is respect, community, humility which began to fade in their own lives. They questioned every correction. “Daddy, you can’t talk to me like that, it’s abuse.” “Mummy, this is my right.”
We couldn’t even discipline them without fear. Teachers, social workers, and school authorities were quick to interfere. Back home, it takes a village to raise a child; here, it takes caution not to lose your child to the system. Our weekends were no longer for family bonding, my wife had back-to-back shifts, and I was constantly calculating bills: rent, council tax, electricity, food, transportation… everything had a price tag. The “soft life” we imagined abroad turned out to be an endless cycle of work and worry.
Now, sometimes when I talk to my friends back home who envy me, I just shake my head. They see the pictures, not the pressure. They see the pounds, not the pain.
If I’m being honest, there are nights I lie awake and whisper to myself, “Did I really make the right decision?” I wanted a better future for my children but in chasing that dream, I lost parts of myself, my culture, and sometimes, even my peace.
Don’t get me wrong, the UK gave me exposure, structure, and some comfort. But it also took something from me, something I may never get back.
If I could go back in time, maybe… just maybe… I would have stayed in Nigeria, built gradually, and raised my children close to our roots.
This isn’t to discourage anyone. It’s just a reminder that abroad is not heaven, it’s another battlefield.
Sometimes, when you think you’re running toward a dream, you might just be running away from peace.
It is what it is.
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