CHAPTER THREE: MIGRATION TALES
With his decision now irreversible, Mr. Bepo turns his attention to the experiences of those who have migrated before him. Stories of life in the United Kingdom, the United States, and Canada begin to occupy his thoughts. What fascinates him most is the structure of earnings abroad—hourly, daily, weekly, or monthly—unlike the fixed salary system common in Nigeria. The flexibility of hourly wages appeals to him; it suggests mobility, accountability, and the possibility of increasing one’s income through diligence. To Bepo, this system explains, in part, the economic advancement of developed nations.
Through conversations with a friend in the United States, he learns that daily earnings can range between $150 and $250, depending on the nature of the job and location. Simple calculations convince him that even working four days a week could yield as much as $2,400 monthly—a figure that appears substantial when compared to his Nigerian income. He also discovers that skilled professionals, particularly in healthcare, often earn significantly more. Reports of doctors, nurses, and other health workers leaving Nigeria in large numbers reinforce the growing narrative of migration as a pathway to stability. Graduates, too, are departing through study routes in search of better prospects.
Yet the migration wave is not without its troubling undertones. Bepo recalls instances of desperate measures taken by some individuals to finance relocation. A former colleague, Mr Nku secured a sizeable cooperative loan worth two million naira shortly before leaving the country, while a driver once attempted to dispose of school property to fund his child’s education abroad. Such stories reveal the intensity of the “Japa” fever and the moral compromises it sometimes provokes.
Encouragement comes from Sola, a former Home Economics teacher at Stardom who relocated to the UK with her husband six months earlier. She assures Bepo that his transition will be smoother because his wife is already established there. Unlike many couples who must alternate between working and studying to survive, he will not bear the full burden of settlement. Sola recounts how she and her husband sold possessions and borrowed funds to finance their journey, underscoring that relocation often demands sacrifice before reward.
Education and healthcare remain powerful attractions. In the UK, Bepo’s children enjoy free primary and secondary education, and healthcare services—particularly for minors—are largely accessible without direct fees. These realities contrast sharply with the financial strain experienced by many families in Nigeria, where quality education and medical care are costly. Such differences strengthen his conviction that relocation offers his children a more secure future.
However, not all migration stories are positive. He hears of Jare, who left a comfortable banking job only to struggle emotionally with caregiving work in London. Another acquaintance, Hope, relocated for postgraduate studies while his wife initially supported him financially; the arrangement later collapsed, leaving him vulnerable. These contrasting experiences remind Bepo that migration yields varied outcomes. He reflects on a proverb once shared by an Idoma co-tenant: the same rain that nourishes the sugarcane also feeds the bitter leaf, yet each produces a different taste.
Questions of responsibility further complicate the narrative. While some migrants eagerly sponsor relatives abroad, others hesitate, wary of financial and emotional strain. The decision to relocate, Bepo realizes, is only the beginning of a broader chain of obligations.
By the chapter’s end, he feels strengthened in resolve yet sobered by realism. The allure of structured earnings, social amenities, and professional opportunity remains compelling, but the testimonies of sacrifice, adjustment, and unexpected hardship temper his optimism. Migration, he concludes, is neither a guaranteed triumph nor a predetermined failure; it is a test whose outcome depends on preparation, resilience, and circumstance.
CHAPTER FOUR: A CASE OF VISA DENIED
Late one night in his residence at Adeniyi Jones, Ikeja, Lagos, Mr. Bepo prepares for his usual prayers when his phone rings. The caller is Mrs. Ignatius, a parent at Stardom Schools. Her overly familiar manner has long unsettled him. Though he relates to parents with warmth and humour, he dislikes blurred boundaries, and Mrs. Ignatius has often crossed them by sharing personal matters that exceed the limits of a principal-parent relationship.
This call, however, is far from routine. Mrs. Ignatius speaks in distress about a crisis that has shattered her family’s long-cherished migration plans. Her husband, Mr. Ibe Ignatius—a manager in an oil firm—had resolved to relocate abroad with his family, convinced that his children’s future would be better secured outside Nigeria. Determined to contribute financially once abroad, Mrs. Ignatius had already begun learning tailoring and hairdressing. In preparation for their departure, she resigned from her clerical position, while her husband wound down his clearing and forwarding side business.
During the visa process, however, a mandatory DNA test revealed a devastating truth: one of their three children, Favour, an SSS2 student at Stardom, was not Mr. Ibe’s biological child. The discovery not only resulted in visa denial but also ignited a domestic crisis. Mr. Ibe, stunned and enraged, ordered Mrs. Ignatius and Favour out of the house. It is in this moment of upheaval that she reaches out to Mr. Bepo, seeking counsel, sympathy, or perhaps simply someone to listen.
As he listens quietly, Bepo feels the weight of an awkward responsibility. He wonders how he became entangled in such intimate family turmoil. Experience has taught him that affluent parents can be unpredictable—sometimes generous and cooperative, at other times impulsive and vindictive. The situation reminds him of a previous incident that cost a teacher his classroom position.
A student named Bibi once claimed to have recurring dreams about Mr. Ayesoro, the Government teacher, identifying him by his distinct tribal marks—features so pronounced that some students mockingly nicknamed him “Mr. Owala.” Frightened by the dreams, Bibi confided in her mother, Mrs. Ladele, who promptly lodged a complaint with the school. Concerned about losing the family’s patronage, management transferred Mr. Ayesoro to Stardom Hub, the property arm of the group, effectively removing him from the classroom without formal misconduct. The memory reinforces Bepo’s awareness of how parental perceptions, rational or otherwise, can influence administrative decisions in elite institutions.
The Ignatius case intensifies his reflections on migration and its unintended consequences. What began as an optimistic quest for a better life has unraveled into exposure, betrayal, and separation. The promise of relocation, once glittering with hope, now reveals its capacity to magnify hidden fractures.
As the night deepens, Bepo contemplates his own impending move to the United Kingdom. He hopes distance might shield him from the emotional entanglements and administrative complexities that have defined his years at Stardom. At the same time, he recognises that these experiences, rich with irony, tension, and human vulnerability, could one day form the substance of a compelling narrative.
The chapter closes with him suspended between detachment and reflection: a principal burdened by the private storms of others, even as he prepares to cross borders in search of calmer horizons.
