Illegal Immigration: My Story first excerpt

Oseyiza Oogbodo Illegal Immigration: My Story cover

Illegal Immigration: My Story is the latest book project of author, poet, writer, blogger, journalist

OSEYIZA OOGBODO which is all about his enforced journey into the world of illegal immigration. As usual with everything written by OOGBODO, it’s going to be a worthwhile read. It’ll be serialized on this blog and below is its very first excerpt.

When I applied for a Netherlands visa in Nigeria in October 2021, it certainly wasn’t with the intention of becoming an illegal immigrant.

As at then, six years after I visited the Netherlands twice in one year back in 2015, the only reason I had of applying for the visa was to visit Amsterdam to cover the International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam which is one of the most fulfilling programmes in the world and to also go on sightseeing trips to Antwerp, Belgium and Paris, France.

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Without a doubt, I had heard serially of illegal immigration over the years. There were despondent stories particularly of people who would travel by road through the desert in dangerous circumstances just to get to Europe from Africa.

There were stories of those who would try to cross into Europe through water channels and end up in the water never to be seen or heard from again.

Thinking of it now, I never really gave much thought to all these stories one way or the other because I wasn’t affected by them.

I had my plans in my home country, Nigeria, and I was actualizing them in my professions: journalism and entertainment.

But life is indeed unpredictable and truly a case of man proposes God disposes as I would eventually find out.

The very solid case of life’s unpredictability that really shocked me was my mother’s death on that dark day of September 9, 2021 that I will never ever forget.

My mother was the foundation of our family.

She was a great woman though she wasn’t a renowned personality as we are wont to ascribe greatness to acclaimed people like Martin Luther King Junior, Bill Clinton, Angela Merkel and many other suchlike who’ve rubberstamped their claim to greatness on the world.

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But knowing my mother and how she practically singlehandedly raised her eight children to be useful to the society despite the harsh conditions we faced when there was a turnaround in the family’s fortunes, I make bold to say that she’s a great woman.

She was always there for us and one great lesson I learnt from her is that raising children is not primarily about having enough money to give them all the so-called comforts of life but always being there for them at all costs to advice, guide and support them as the need may be.

Because of her, I understand why it’s felt that children who don’t have the parental love they should might turn out astray.

In our case, my mother had more than enough love to give us and it was all genuine love because she loved us all equally so there was no feeling of any of us had more love than another which would have led to understandable resentment.

Luckily for us, she left us eternally when we had all become mature and parents on our own so she ensured she carried out her assignment on us to the end.

Her death was however unexpected and shocking as she was full of life and speaking for myself, I felt she would be around for the next two decades minimum.

(To be continued)