Transitions are never an easy thing to defeat. It is sometimes stressful and difficult to adapt to a new environment. I originally came from Lagos, Nigeria in Africa to start a new life and get a meliorate education. My journey all began on August 1st when I stepped into the land of freedom, also known as the United States. I was only twelve years old when we immigrated and I was excited to celebrate my thirteen-year-old birthday in the United States because that was the place a whole lot of people dreamed of having their birthday. Life was going to be good. I would not need to stress as much as I had to back in Nigeria. I was wrong about that. Life was never easy moving from one distinct area to another.
A couple of months before I moved to America, I had lost my little sister to a hole in the heart. She was the most excited person in my family to go to the United States. She was the one who told my dad that we should come to America because when we grow older, we will be able to do anything without stress. The day my sister passed away was tragic. Nobody thought about going to America because what is the use of going when life was never going to be great in the land of freedom?
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A week before coming to America, our initial thought was to pray about coming because it may not have been God’s plan for us to come to America. The day finally arrived and it was time to leave. I went to my room for just a little bit and I cried my heart out because that was the last time I would ever step foot in that room where I lived for twelve years of my life and where the bad and the good occurred. My mum yelled my name and told me that we had to hurry up in order not to miss our flight. I ran out as fast as I could, excited about going but depressed about leaving. I loved my home, but it felt like my home didn’t like me, but that doesn’t matter, correct? After all, I was going to have a good life in America and have the best education in the world because America is supposed to solve all your problems, right?
We finally arrived and we were waiting for an Uber to pick us up. There I stood thinking about how things would have been different if only my little sister was with me. We were so close that she would tell me when she was hurting and how I shouldn’t worry because she would get healthier soon. After a couple of minutes, the Uber driver finally arrived and we got ‘home’. When I watch movies about how houses in America look, it looks like heaven and somewhere that everyone should be living, but that was not the case for me. The house was one of the smallest houses anyone could think of and a place that no one would want to live in. After a couple of years in that house, we decided it was time for us to move. We moved to a bigger house, but I still had to share a room with my older sister.
It has been almost five years since I have been in America, and thinking about it now, my impression of my immigration is not as bad as I had thought. Well, now that I am sixteen, I can certainly say America is the greatest country of all and it is, in fact, a free country where I can be what I want to be without being forced to be something I don’t want to be.
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