Nigerians are raised to help. Sometimes to the point of self-destruction.
Abroad, I learned that you can’t help everyone the same way. The environment is too expensive. The margin for error is too small.
At first, I said yes to everything: money requests, accommodation help, emotional labor. I wanted to be good. Then I became tired.
One day, I realized I was becoming resentful. And resentment is a sign your boundaries are broken.
So I started practicing a clean no: “I can’t, but I wish you well.” No extra explanations. No long guilt speeches. No begging for understanding.
It felt rude at first. Then it felt like freedom.
Now, my support is structured: I help when I truly can, and I don’t when I can’t. I’m still kind, but I’m not available for chaos.
Migration didn’t make me selfish. It made me realistic.
