Esther Adegoke, a 33-year-old woman in 2017, inhabited Lagos, Nigeria where she had spent her childhood and accomplished her business administration studies. She was a professional educator in an elite British educational institution in Nigeria’s prime city, being a wife and mother to two young girls. Although initially she worked within the financial sector, she transitioned her profession to achieve better work-life balance.
But an unexpected turn of events led to a hasty journey of the four family members to Ireland, there to seek asylum. Their living quarters in Ireland were the erstwhile Eglinton Hotel in Salthill, Galway which had been transformed into a direct provision lodging a few years before. Sharing a small common area, the residents had to follow a new dining routine. Where they once were given catered food – foreign and available only at designated hours – now they had to prepare their meals themselves.
The urgent need for this drastic move was born of peril. Adegoke’s spouse, Sunday, who was employed by a Lagos tax office to scrutinise company finances, uncovered a fraudulent scheme. Despite pressure, he refused to condone the fraud, putting the couple in jeopardy. The revelation led to termination of certain jobs, sparking threats against them. Intimidation tactics escalated to dangerous levels, including warnings to Sunday’s life, and a burglary at their home while they were out of town for a few weeks. Frightening letters were left behind post this invasion, indicating worse consequences were to follow. This propelled the realization that they had to evacuate, and within a month, the couple left Nigeria.
Their priority was relocating to an English-speaking nation. Reports of disarray and violent attacks in the UK deterred them. Instead, they found Ireland appealing, a recommendation from Sunday’s acquaintances. It was distinguished as a peaceful, small nation, perfect for nurturing children and setting up a fresh life. Prior to this, Esther was unfamiliar with Ireland, with no personal contacts there.
In December of 2017, Adeboke and her family landed in Dublin Airport after sunset. Their destination was a housing accommodation in the south Dublin neighbourhood of Ballyboden, its address supplied by a travel agent. However, the taxi driver was unable to locate the place. As Adeboke remembers, “He told us that he had driven us as far as the map would allow, and he guessed that our destination must be in the area.” They were left in the outskirts with their two children, ages three and four, after 10pm. The weather was bitterly cold, and the darkness made everything unfamiliar. This was their first experience in Ireland and a country with a cold climate. As they stood, shivering in the cold, their children inquired worriedly, “Mum, what’s happening?” Unexpectedly, a kind man driving by offered to help them, eventually guiding them to their destination. This act of kindness made a deep impression on Adeboke.
The address in Ballyboden was part of a package that they had purchased from a travel agent. This package included paperwork processing, flight bookings and a contact person upon arrival in Ireland—all at a significant expense which Adeboke felt was justified. Once in the city, they applied for asylum through this agent. They were issued temporary resident cards and accommodated at the Balseskin Reception Centre in Finglas. There, they were treated kindly, with basic needs such as food, medical checks and a room for the family being taken care of. Employment was not an option for the first nine months of their stay. Both Adeboke and her husband engaged in short courses, with Adeboke choosing parenting and healthcare classes.
By the end of 2018, Adeboke and her spouse were issued work permits. The family relocated to the Eglinton in Galway, marking the beginning of a new chapter. Their children began attending regular school. Adeboke’s husband secured a job in security, while she was expecting their third child. She spoke gratefully of a welcoming ceremony arranged by The Melting Pot, a non-governmental organisation supporting asylum seekers. Their journey from Ukraine to Ireland, directed by the desire to provide a better life for their children, saw its first steps in Galway.
Having settled with her family, she now works as a healthcare assistant for a private company, simultaneously pursuing a part-time master’s degree in applied leadership and management from Atlantic Technological University (ATU). Her husband, a master in accounting and analytics holder from the University of Galway, is now a financial adviser. Their family consists of four children, three daughters aged 10, nine and five who are well-adjusted to school, and a two-year-old boy. The family actively participates in the local Ballybane Pentecostal church and Adegoke, an enthusiast of gospel music, has composed and recorded two songs.
Granting asylum to the couple has not been without problems; the next hurdle is to obtain independent accommodation. Their small space in the direct provision centre does not allow for much privacy or comfortability for a family of six. The lack of responses to their numerous house-hunting attempts only exacerbates the distress.
However, despite these difficulties, Adegoke and her family remain hopeful and contented. She values the welcoming environment and friendly people that make Ireland feel like a home away from home. Their immediate goal continues to be securing suitable accommodation while they strive to move forward with their lives. Accommodation is in high demand at their current residence, the direct provision centre, increasing the urgency for them to find a new home.
Though families still offer them a degree of space and time, this woman from Nigeria misses the cultural nuances of her homeland. The upbringing of children in her community is something she yearns for, where they address adults as “auntie” as a sign of respect instead of using first names. The societal norms back home condemn a child looking directly into an adult’s eyes; it’s perceived as insolence.
When asked about instances of prejudice, she expresses that she hasn’t encountered outright racism. However, there have been instances where she was treated disrespectfully or as if she was insignificant, which she interprets as racially motivated. This has only been the experience a couple of times and she is quick to point out the majority of Irish citizens are delightful, but some still express negativity towards asylum seekers.
Moving back to Nigeria isn’t in their plans; they’ve established a life in Ireland. They have two children born and raised there, and it’s also where they’ve chosen to bring up their other young children. They’ve settled in well and consider Ireland to be a new home for them.
She embarked on a solo journey back to Nigeria in order to celebrate her mother’s 80th birthday. Despite her nostalgia for Nigeria, she found herself missing Ireland and wanting to return. After spending three decades of her life in Ireland, she concludes that it has given her opportunities to progress, to grow, and become who she truly wants to be.
Those who made Ireland their home in the last decade are encouraged to share their experiences by reaching out via email at [email protected] or through a tweet @newtotheparish.