When I chose to move to Nigeria, I packed my bags in Canada and said goodbye to my family, friends, and my Tim Hortons order (French Vanilla Cappuccino.) I genuinely believed I was stepping into purpose. After all, what could be more beautiful than marrying the love of my life, an Igbo man as passionate about Jesus Christ as I am, and starting fresh in the motherland?
But chai, this Nigeria humbled me faster than NEPA takes light.
I had heard the warnings. “You’ll miss clean water.” “Nigeria is not for the faint of heart.” “Your accent will make you a target.” But I brushed them off. I thought love would be enough and that faith would carry me. And to be honest, sometimes it does. But some days, I want to crawl back into my puffer jacket and book the next flight back to Pearson Airport.
Let me break it down. The real pros and cons of moving back to Nigeria as a diaspora babe—and a wife.
✅ Best Parts About My Move to Nigeria
1. Purpose Feels Realer Here
There’s something powerful about walking in a land where your ancestors walked, speaking a language your grandma still understands, and building something meaningful in your own soil. God feels closer here. The air feels richer with destiny (when there’s no generator noise.)
2. Cost of Living (Sometimes) Works in Your Favour
Things like domestic help, fresh produce, and handmade clothes are way more accessible. A tailor sewed my outfit for ₦6,000 that would’ve cost me $200 in Toronto. Win!
3. Community Life
Neighbors greet you. Aunties know your name. Your husband’s cousins might show up unannounced—but somehow, that feels like family. I never realized how alone I was in Canada until I had people randomly dropping off food and prayer points.
4. Building Something New with My Husband
There’s beauty in starting from scratch. We’re building our home, investing in land, and raising a family in a culture that, for all its chaos, still values tradition and family.
❌ Worst Parts of My Move to Nigeria

1. The System Is Broken—And It Breaks You
I won’t lie. The bad roads, power outages, corruption, and constant stress can get to you. It’s hard watching your husband struggle through unnecessary bureaucracy to get basic things done. It’s draining when you have to plan your day around diesel.
2. You’ll Feel Like an Outsider
Even as a Nigerian, being raised abroad means your eyes work differently. You question things others have accepted as normal. People think you’re “forming” or too bougie when you ask for receipts or refuse to bribe someone.
3. Career Transitions Are Tough
Let’s not even talk about how my Canadian qualifications were basically toilet paper here. I had to pivot, pray, and find new ways to earn—like starting this blog, building my personal brand, and freelancing. I talk more about it in my Starting Over post.
4. Mental Health is Not Prioritized
People will tell you to “just pray” when you’re spiraling. Therapy is expensive and not widely available. I’ve had to fight for my sanity with worship playlists and WhatsApp voice notes to friends abroad.
💡 So… Was It a Mistake?
Honestly? It depends on the day.
Some days, I look around at the life we’re building and whisper “Thank You, God.”
Other days, I’m googling flights, calculating exchange rates, and wondering what I was thinking.
But what I know for sure is this:
I didn’t come back for comfort. I came for calling.
I came to build, to love, to grow, and maybe—just maybe—to inspire other women who feel called to something wild and God-ordained.
📣 Call to Action:
Are you a diaspora Nigerian considering the move back home? Or maybe you’ve already made the leap and you’re in the thick of it. Let’s connect. Drop a comment and share your story. You’re not alone, sis.
And if you want to laugh, cry, and heal with other women on this crazy journey, subscribe to my newsletter below. We’re building a tribe that’s bold, faith-filled, and real about the struggles.
I will love to visit Canada the same way you are in Nigeria