Chat Room

By Prosper Mene 

While the word “japa” dominates conversations about Nigerians seeking opportunities abroad, a different story is unfolding in Lagos. For some foreigners, Nigeria is no longer just a place to work. It is becoming home.

Renee Ju, a South Korean content creator known as @victorandrenee, arrived in Nigeria in 2021 on a work assignment with Samsung Electronics. What started as a temporary posting has since turned into marriage, motherhood, and a deep connection to the country she once barely knew.

Her first impressions were far from welcoming. Landing in Lagos during the COVID-19 pandemic, she spent two weeks in hotel quarantine and was immediately struck by how different everything felt from Seoul, a city known for strict order and structure. The water in even high-end hotels, the noise, the pace — it was overwhelming. At the airport, she admits she wanted to turn back.

That changed once she began working with Nigerian colleagues. Their energy, humor, and resilience reshaped her view. “Nothing can stop them from living their best life,” she would later say. Her family in South Korea were initially shocked by her decision to relocate. Her sister even reached out to Nigerians on LinkedIn for advice, only to hear the same response repeatedly: she would have the best time in Nigeria.

And she did. Beyond the office, Renee found herself drawn to Nigerian social life. The parties, the weddings that felt like festivals, and the hours-long church services were all new to her. The hardest adjustment was the length of worship, often stretching three to five hours. But it was the people who ultimately made Lagos feel like home. Former colleagues became family — the ones she laughed and cried with through the highs and lows.

What she came to love most about Nigeria, she says, is how it makes her feel. “Every emotion was so raw and unfiltered to the extent that it makes you live life with every cell in your body,” she explained. She describes it as being like a fish finally released into water — maybe lagoon water, but water nonetheless, after years of being “on display in a nice supermarket.”

It was at a beach concert in Landmark that she met Victor Babatunde Yamusa. It wasn’t love at first sight for her, though it was for him. At the time she had already resigned from Samsung and was focused on enjoying life in Lagos. As their friendship deepened, she began to see a caring side to Victor beneath his tough exterior. That friendship grew into marriage.

Navigating two cultures in one relationship came with its own lessons. Renee credits her adaptability — shaped by years of travel in her 20s — for making the transition smoother. But marriage and motherhood brought new challenges. With the birth of their son, Roi Ifeya, cultural differences were no longer just “spice.” They became questions of values and identity. For the couple, faith became the anchor that helped them through.

Motherhood changed her relationship with Nigeria entirely. The country is now her child’s motherland — the place where they spent nine months of pregnancy and welcomed their son into the world. Nigeria is no longer just where she shouts “Fisi Fisi” in the market. It is home. “Whatever the people go through in this land, they are my concerns too,” she says. “No matter where our family is, Nigeria will always be in our hearts and is a place to come back to.”

Looking back at the woman who first arrived in 2021, Renee says Nigeria humbled her. It taught her the privilege of freedom and the purpose of her journey. She believes she was brought to the country for a reason and is eager to see what role she will play in it moving forward.

For Renee Ju, Nigeria stopped being a foreign posting years ago. Today, it is family.