The Accidental Immigrant – Macleans.ca

In 2019, she was living in Ibadan, Nigeria, and working as a secondary school teacher. My wife Kenny and I had a four-year-old son named Dotun, as well as many relatives who lived nearby. One of my sisters, Jummy, had recently moved to Lethbridge, Alberta, with her husband, Niyi, who was doing her postdoc there. They just had a son, Tishe, and they wanted me to meet him. So I flew from Nigeria to Canada in November 2019 to see the three of them.

My trip was only supposed to last a few weeks. But Jummy liked having me around so much that she suggested that she extend my stay until the end of March 2020, so I could celebrate my birthday with them. I requested an extended leave from my job and rescheduled my flight home. To pass the time, I volunteered at a local food bank in Lethbridge. I also met with the Nigerian community in the city and attended some of their meetings. I bonded a lot with Tishe, reading books and playing with him.

When COVID hit and the Canadian and Nigerian borders closed, I did everything I could to get any available flight, but I was stuck in Alberta. I felt miserable and worthless for the next few months, because I couldn’t be a father to my son and partner to my wife during such a difficult time. It was mental torture. We did the best we could with Zoom despite the seven-hour time difference. Sometimes he would spend three or four hours on video calls with them, and Dotun might just fall asleep or wake up, but he still wanted to see those little moments. My son couldn’t understand why he didn’t come home. He’d say, “You told me you’d be gone for a couple of weeks!” I could tell he was angry with me.

Jummy and Niyi saw that I was not myself. They saw me fighting. Since I was no longer earning, some money was sent home every month to support my wife, and Niyi’s brother suggested I sign up for a three-month online early childhood education course from May to July. I thought it was a good way to pass the time in a meaningful way since I couldn’t do anything else. I also read a lot of books (probably 50 or 60 in those first months), played with my nephew, and went on long walks with the family. Sometimes we would drive to different parts of Alberta, like Waterton, to walk and explore.

In June 2020, the government introduced a policy allowing people stuck in Canada on visitor permits, like me, to apply for closed work permits without having to leave the country. I felt like things were finally looking up, but I would need an employer to sponsor my visa. I searched the internet for a few months and finally found a job as a live-in caregiver for a Nigerian family living in Fort McMurray. They had two children, ages two and seven, and I had to help the older child with online school and take care of the younger one as well.

I moved to Fort McMurray in January of the following year. The family welcomed me with open arms. Working for them made me think about what life would be like if my family moved here. In Nigeria, the rich and politicians are almost untouchable: they could use their power to get their way. I liked that there was accountability in Canada, especially for politicians, where people ask you if they suspect you’re doing something wrong. I also liked how everyone here has equal access to good roads, healthcare, playgrounds, and public schools, regardless of their economic status. I thought: This is the kind of place I want to live. It would be a great place to raise a family. I always wanted to have only one child, but being in Canada made me think that I would like to have another. I started talking to Kenny about the idea of ​​her and Dotun immigrating to Canada. At first she was hesitant because it would be a big change, but soon she saw how it would benefit our family and create a better future for us.

In the fall of that year, Niyi got a job at UBC’s Okanagan campus, so he, Jummy and Tishe moved there. I didn’t like the idea of ​​being alone in Alberta and my sister was also worried about me. She suggested that she look for a job near them, in Vernon, and a few days later, she sent me a link to a job opening at a daycare center in town called Maven Lane. I applied, interviewed, and received an offer within 24 hours. I immediately packed my bags and moved to Vernon, arriving less than a week after my sister’s family. I stayed in a spare room in her new house.

My first contact at Maven Lane, Kyla MaCaulay, knew my visa situation. As I had a closed work permit, I would need my employer to sponsor my visa, which they were happy to do. Kyla connected with a friend who was a local coordinator for the Vernon Rural and Northern Immigration Pilot Project, or RNIP, a new program designed to bring immigrants into smaller communities by giving them a faster route to permanent residency. Through this avenue, I could also sponsor my wife and son in my PR application. Finally, I thought, we would meet.

The RNIP issues immigration nominations based on community needs. A committee in Vernon evaluates potential candidates to determine which ones would be the best fit, considering factors such as our professions and ties to the community. It helped that my sister also lived in Vernon. Initially, they rejected my application because she was too new in town; they wanted her to live there for at least six months. So I waited. Then in March 2022 I got the community nomination through the RNIP and was able to start working on Maven Lane. I was also able to apply for permanent residency for myself and my family, which I obtained in early December of that year. I was so happy that my family could finally be reunited.

Kenny and Dotun arrived on December 11, just days after their paperwork was completed. Seeing my wife and son after four years was surreal. It was a moment he had remembered so many times over the years. I ran over and picked Kenny up and gave him a long kiss. Then I gave Dotun a hug and picked him up too; I realized how much I had grown and weighed. He said, “Dad, you didn’t tell me you were going to be gone for so long!” We all hugged and cried for a couple of minutes before heading to the car. I felt like my steps bounced after they landed. Was so happy.

A week after he arrived, we moved out of my sister’s house and rented an apartment five minutes away. Dotun is a social animal. He is now in third grade and quickly made friends at school. It took Kenny a little longer to adjust to a new home and culture, but having Jummy around helped. The two became good friends and often went for walks and had coffee together. At the end of February 2023, Kenny got a job as a sales representative at a financial company. He has become close with his co-workers and our families spend a lot of time picnicking together and visiting the lakes around the Okanagan.

If it weren’t for COVID, I probably would have flown home to Nigeria in 2020 and still be living there with my extended family. Being separated from my son and wife for so long was very challenging. But I’m grateful that it paved the way for us all to be together in Canada now. Our family is growing too: in March this year, Kenny gave birth to a baby girl, Tiwa. Everything I have now makes the sacrifices worth it.