Moving to Canada is not as fascinating as they paint it to be, this is my story starting a life in Canada. At one point in my life as a Nigerian, I considered leaving for abroad as the greatest achievement any Nigerian can attain. I believed, living in abroad is far better than staying here, a country faced with abysmal laws and policies, coupled with the high rate of poverty. And with the news that are being fed to us from ‘EuroAmerica’ channels, portraying UK, America, Canada, France, Germany, and all those developed countries as equal to heaven; a perfect place with a perfect system, I couldn’t help but sink in that reality- staying abroad is better than Nigeria. So all the while I was in Nigeria, I was finding a way to Get-Out, I keep telling myself; “it is easy over there, I will not need to worry over food or getting a job…” I then saved and borrowed some money to move to Canada; to those I borrowed money from, I told them within 3months after settling down and getting a job, I will reimburse them, I was confident, at least I have a Bachelor of Art from the premier university, I can work and school, it is easy like that. Usually, I wake up at 6am daily, but on this particular day I was supposed to leave Nigeria, I woke up by 3am. I have been to the Muritala International Airport as early as 12noon, for a flight that was scheduled to leave by 11pm, I was hyper-time conscious like that.
On getting to Toronto Pearson International Airport, I saw the most beautiful public structure in my life, I was amazed as to how well organised the place is, however, the most wowing experience is seeing many Nigerians troop in to Canada, I exchanged pleasantries with some, “I thought to myself, this place is really a goldmine, no wonder people are rushing to come here”, then a friend came to pick me up to his place, where I will be spending some days until I get my own place.
The first two weeks was interesting, I got carried away with the nice places in Toronto, and I visited the park, bar and went to the museum. To tell the truth, I forgot the reason I was here, I forgot that I came in with a Student Visa and the system mandated I visited the school that offered to admit me, upon my arrival, this actually was the beginning of my problem living in Canada.
On getting to the school on the third week of my arrival in Canada, I was told admission exercise had closed. What? In reality, I had two options; to seek an admission in another school or I will be forced to pack my bags and go home (Nigeria). To me, I only had one option, stay here, no matter what it cost.
Part two will be published next week Monday, keep a date with me.
Oladayo is writing from Canada.