To be honest, I was very confident about my chances.

A few hours later, I received a message from the client.

Immediately, I became excited. I thought it was an invitation to the next stage of the hiring process.

But when I opened the message, what I saw completely changed my mood.

The client said something along these lines:

"You Nigerians always claim you can do a perfect job, but after receiving payment, many either deliver poor work or disappear completely. Sweet words, but poor delivery."

I just stared at my screen.

I felt sad.

I felt angry too.

Not because he rejected me, but because someone else's actions had already created a negative image that I now had to carry.

For him to make such a statement, it means he had probably had unpleasant experiences with some Nigerians in the past.

I tried to explain that not everyone is the same. I told him I would deliver exactly what I promised if given the opportunity.

After a few messages back and forth, he replied:

"I like your confidence, and you seem like a good fit for the role. But I'm sorry, I've decided not to work with Nigerians anymore. I wish you all the best in your job hunting."

That message hurt more than the first one.

Not because I lost the job.

But because I lost it before I was even given a chance to prove myself.

Recently, I experienced something similar again.

An international platform where I promote my books changed its payment system. Unfortunately, the payment providers they now support are not available in Nigeria.

Just like that, receiving payments became much more difficult.

Then there are survey sites, testing platforms, reward apps, and many other opportunities online.

You sign up with excitement.

You complete the registration process.

Then you get to the final stage and discover:

"This service is not available in your country."

And somehow, that country is Nigeria again.

Or, the payment gateway they use are not available in Nigeria.

As a Nigerian, you sometimes feel like you are carrying a passport that closes certain doors before you even knock.

The painful part is that there are thousands of hardworking, honest, talented Nigerians doing amazing things every day.

Yet, many of us still find ourselves battling stereotypes we did not create.

Don't get me wrong.

I love Nigeria.

This country has taught me resilience, creativity, adaptability, and perseverance.

But some days, it gets frustrating when opportunities pass you by simply because of where you come from.

At this point, being a Nigerian has done me more harm than good in the global world.

Maybe some of you have experienced something similar.

Have you ever lost an opportunity, been denied access to a platform, or been unfairly judged simply because of your nationality?

I would love to hear your experience.

Sometimes, sharing these stories reminds us that we are not alone.