A Black Man’s Letter #2: From Frying Pan to Fire

On behalf of Nigerian technologist, immigrant and refugee Ikhade, TOMES writer Toheeb presents the Russia-Ukraine War through Nigerian eyes…

For Ikhade, leaving Nigeria became top of mind after the Lekki Toll Gate massacre. He had seen his peers killed by the very people sworn to protect them and the government denied it. That was it, it was time to leave and never come back.

Ikhade had everything he needed to make it in life. He came from a middle class family, went to private schools all his life and was a tech prodigy. As a teenager, he’d represented his school and country in an international robotics competition and came home with prizes; and yet here he was trying to leave the country like many other people in his generation who had had enough of the worsening conditions of living and the slowly imploding state of the country’s sovereignty.

Over the next few months, he started looking for suitable countries that would work for him and help him reach his goals; all the while still working under terrible conditions, barely surviving the powers and principalities of the Nigerian state. As an only child, it broke his mum’s heart when he told her that he was considering leaving the country and had started the process. She knew what it meant; the chances of seeing her baby boy ever again were next to nothing and she wept.

Ikhade finally settled on Ukraine. He would use the school route to get into Europe and try to make a better life for himself. A distant cousin had helped with the whole process and it was time to leave Nigeria. Little did he know that he could not have picked the worst time to move to Ukraine. He finalised his plans and touched down in Kyiv’s Boryspil International Airport on Boxing Day, 2021.

“She knew what it meant; the chances of seeing her baby boy ever again were next to nothing and she wept.”

There had been news going around about an impending war between Ukraine and Russia, the details were sketchy but it was quite evident that it was looming closer and closer. He had barely settled down into his new environment: there was the language barrier that made him feel like an outsider, and then the issue of race. As someone who spent most of his life seeing people who had the same skin colour like his, it was a culture shock that would take some time to get used to. To his advantage, his courses were taught in English and he had the companionship of fellow Nigerian students with plans similar to his. His bunkmate, Faizal, also Nigerian, had been in the school for six months and helped Ikhade settle down.

They became quite close as they were both from the southern part of Nigeria and mingled in the same social circle. Faizal would go on to show Ikhade the city and point out places to find more Nigerians, hang-out spots and convenience stores that were welcoming to English-speaking foreigners.

On the morning of Sunday February 24, 2022, all hell broke loose as Russia launched missiles and continuous airstrikes into Ukraine and Ikhade was caught in the eye of the storm. He was in the capital city, Kyiv and that meant he had to evacuate. This is someone who escaped Nigeria with the belief that Europe was relatively safer and more civilised, and now he was on the move again. 

Despite social media and mainstream media beaming the light on Ukraine and the invasion, it was relatively quiet in the first 48 hours where Ikhade was — until it wasn’t. A nearby naval base came under siege and more jets were flying overhead with tanks driving up the street. Ikhade noted that the bombs were getting closer and it became obvious that it was time to leave.

Then came the hard part: getting transportation away from the city and staying alive through the cold. For someone who had barely been in the country for two months and had not adjusted to Eastern Europe’s winter, the evacuation was hell for Ikhade. First, he couldn’t reach his family to let them know he was alive and well, the group they moved with were in such a hurry, he and his friend and bunkmate Faizal got separated just as they left home because Faizal forgot his passport and documents. Ikhade would never see Faizal alive again.

He and the rest of the students in his group finally got word of a train station with trains taking civilians to the Polish border and had to walk all the way. The journey took two days and the weather conditions were not exactly favourable. The bombs were also getting louder and too close for comfort. They managed to get to the train station and luckily, they were still letting civilians leave.

It took three trains and rationed food to get to the Polish border. On getting to the border, he was greeted with something so unfamiliar: racism.

First, he and his fellow African students were subject to questioning and delays as white folks were allowed to cross first, despite protests by some of the Ukrainians that they should all be allowed to cross. This came as a shock to Ikhade, as he had only seen racism in movies and had not expected it to still be a thing in 2022. Was it dehumanising? Not really; he figured they were prioritising their own people over others and where he came from, this was the norm but he expected better from people who were deemed to be more civilised.

“On getting to the border, he was greeted with something so unfamiliar: racism.”

It would be almost six hours before they allowed the African group to cross the border, with the intervention of officials from the Nigerian High Commission. They had got word that there were Nigerians at the Polish-Ukrainian border and they sent a bus to bring them into the Polish capital, Warsaw. Teary-eyed and exhausted, Ikhade could finally call his mum.

It’s been six months now and Ikhade now lives in Bremen, Germany. His studies have been abandoned at least till the war is over and he is currently under asylum protection and reintegrating into the society. He still has panic attacks when he hears loud noises and has trouble sleeping. He says he’s getting better with the language. So far, “ich sprechen Deutsch gut und ich ist aufregend; sind sie gut” (in his own words).

credits

words — toheeb oladeinde

design — karina so. & sâde popoola