There is a sentence I never imagined I would say out loud:”I have met some people I wish I had never met.”It sounds harsh.Maybe even bitter.But if life has taught me anything, it is that not every meeting is a blessing. Some people enter your life to teach you lessons you never asked for. When I arrived in the UK, I carried more than two boxes and hand luggage.I carried hope.
Like many Nigerians who relocate abroad, I believed that if I met fellow Nigerians, I would automatically find a community. People who understood my accent, laughed at the same jokes, missed the same food, and knew what it meant to leave everything familiar behind.I expected warmth. Instead, I learned that shared nationality does not always mean shared values. Some of the first people I met welcomed me with smiles. They offered advice, introduced themselves, and made me feel less alone.Then, slowly, things changed.Conversations became competitions.Questions became investigations.”Where do you work now?””How much are they paying you?””Have you bought a car?””How did you get that opportunity?
“At first, I thought people were simply being friendly. Later, I realised that not every question is asked because someone cares.Sometimes, people are collecting information.Sometimes, they are measuring your progress.Sometimes, they are deciding whether to celebrate you… or compete with you.I also met incredible Nigerians. People who prayed with me.People who encouraged me when I wanted to give up.People who celebrated my wins without secretly wishing they were theirs.Those people restored my faith.
But I also met people who taught me another lesson. Not everyone deserves access to your life.One experience changed me.Someone I trusted knew things about me that I had shared in confidence. Before long, I heard those same details from people I had never even met.That was the day I stopped confusing friendliness with friendship.Now, people sometimes ask why I keep to myself. Why I don’t attend every gathering.Why I don’t tell everyone my plans.Why I quietly leave some conversations.The answer is simple.Peace.I have learned that peace is more valuable than popularity.
As Nigerians, we often celebrate our resilience, our intelligence, and our ability to succeed anywhere in the world. Those are beautiful qualities, and I am proud to be Nigerian.But I also think we need to have honest conversations. Why is it sometimes difficult for us to celebrate another person’s success? Why do some people see every achievement as a competition? Why do we gossip about people we should be supporting? Why do we sometimes pull one another down instead of lifting each other up? These are uncomfortable questions.
But uncomfortable conversations are often the beginning of change.This article is not about condemning Nigerians.It is about challenging us.Because I have met Nigerians who would give you their last meal.I have met Nigerians who opened their homes to strangers. I have met Nigerians whose kindness changed lives.I have also met Nigerians who made me realise that being from the same country does not automatically make someone safe for my heart, my dreams, or my peace.Today, I greet fewer people.
I share less.I observe more.Some people mistake that for pride.It isn’t.It is wisdom that came with experience.If there is one lesson I hope every young Nigerian, especially those moving abroad, learns, it is this:
Build relationships slowly.
Trust carefully.Protect your peace.And remember that the people who clap the loudest when you win are often the ones you least expected. As for the others…Some people are simply lessons in human form. And sometimes, the greatest blessing God gives you is not who enters your life.It is who leaves it.
