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Coming to America

My family and I arrived in the U.S. from Africa on September 19, 1996. Our long and arduous journey to the United States began almost a year earlier in November 1995.

As a nine-year-old, I didn't really understand why we had to leave everything and everyone we loved in our native country of Nigeria and travel to Ghana. Neither did my seven-year-old sister and five-year-old brother, I imagine. However, we would soon learn that it was a life and death matter.

As it happens, my family left Nigeria for political reasons. At that time, the president of Nigeria was the tyrannical General Sani Abacha. President Abacha had ordered many human rights activists, including my father, to be imprisoned because they were trying to stop the government from drilling oil in the Niger-Delta region. The problem with the oil drilling was that the government would do anything to get their hands on the precious commodity. This included destroying farmlands, burning villages, and killing anyone who put up an opposition. Additionally, the people were not compensated for the use of their resources. For these reasons and more, my father and others were fighting to end the violence and destruction in their native villages. Unfortunately, their efforts resulted in imprisonment and even death.

After my father had been jailed for the second time, my parents made the difficult decision to leave the country. Just a few months earlier, my dad's friend and fellow activist had been hung by the government. My parents feared that the same fate awaited my dad and therefore had no choice but to move us out of the country.

I still remember our last night in Nigeria as though it were yesterday. My siblings and I had just finished eating dinner and it was about 9 pm. We were excited because there was a trip to an amusement park planned for the next day.

At about 10 pm, two Nigerian soldiers knocked on our door and asked to speak to my dad. I later found out that they told him he would be arrested the next day.

After the soldiers left, my parents calmly told us that we were going on a trip and should start packing immediately. Everything we packed fit into three large suitcases and three backpacks. Early the next morning, I went next door to my best friend's house to tell her goodbye. My parents had warned me not to tell anyone the real reason we were leaving, so my friend thought it was a little strange to take a trip at the beginning of the school year. I just told her we had to go.

Two hours later, we loaded our belongings into my dad's Jeep and left our house in the city to begin the long journey to America, and ultimately freedom.

After we left Nigeria, we traveled through Benin and Togo by bus and finally arrived in Ghana in early December. Over the next nine months, we lived in three different places: two hotels and a two-bedroom house that we shared with seven other people.

My parents did not work during that time and we survived only on the money my parents had brought from Nigeria. Only the grace of God saw us through that very difficult time.

Finally, on September 17, 1996, my family and I got the news we had been awaiting for almost a year. We were going to America!

The next day, we were on our way to the land of the free and the home of the brave. As expected, our problems didn't end when we arrived in the U.S. My parents still had to find jobs, and good ones were difficult to get without American degrees.

For the first four months, we lived with family friends. Then in January 1997, we got our own apartment. Three years later, my parents bought a house.

Even though my family still has a few problems, I believe we also have a greater appreciation for life because we were faced with death and hardship. We are now faced with a lesser hardship because each of my parents has to work two jobs in order to support our family, which now has six members.

I recently got a job as a cashier so that I will be able to contribute to the family income and also save money for college. My parents are relying on scholarships and financial aid to pay for my college education because they will not be able to afford to pay for it without loans. This puts a lot of pressure on me, but I've always been told to do well on school in order to get scholarships, so it is a pressure I expected.

I have also been pressured by my parents to become a doctor so that I will always be financially secure. For a while, I thought that was a good idea, but later realized that being in the medical field wasn't something I would enjoy. Now I've decided to work towards becoming an engineer. I would like to attend Texas A&M University in College Station with a major in Chemical Engineering and a minor in Business Administration. In addition to my coursework,

I would also like to participate extensively in community projects such as Habitat for Humanity. Last year, I volunteered with a church group to help build a house for a needy family, and I found that helping others is something I really enjoy. I have also volunteered at a nursing home and a food bank.

Additionally, I volunteer my services every Sunday as the pianist at my church, Maranatha International Baptist Church. Playing the piano is something I learned to do about two years ago, and I enjoy it very much.

At this point in my life, my ultimate goal is to receive a full college scholarship. This will help me fulfill my dreams and also take the financial pressure off my parents. I feel that I owe them at least that much after all they sacrificed to give my siblings and I a safe life.

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