She Dropped Out of School in Her 3rd Year and Got a Skilled Worker Visa to the UK — 1000 Ways to Japa 

Someone you know has left or is planning to leave. 1,000 Ways to Japa speaks to real people and explores the endless reasons and paths they take to japa.

Folake* (22) left Nigeria in November 2023, one year before completing her Mass Communication degree, to move to the UK on a skilled worker visa. In this story, she tells us how she moved with her family, how she got the care job and the reasons she left in the first place.

I live in the UK. I left Nigeria in  2023.

I was a 19-year-old university student., I was in 300-level and I was studying Mass Communication.

Honestly, I didn’t put much thought into it. Nigeria was getting worse. It wasn’t that things were so bad for me personally at the time, but you could see that it wasn’t going to get better anytime soon.

So I looked at the situation and asked myself: “Okay, finish school, and then what?” I would have had a communications degree, but that wasn’t going to get me very far in that environment. The UK felt like a place where I could try things, switch directions if something didn’t work out, and not feel like I was starting from zero every time.

A year before I moved, I had already tried to make it happen on my own; this was around my 100-level second-semester, during the long ASUU strike. I got a job lead and tried to apply for a visa, but it wasn’t coming through quickly enough, so I let it go and figured it would happen when it did.

By the time I got to 300 level, things were looking really grim, and there was a change on the family front: my parents were moving to the UK. I had to decide whether to stay back to finish or leave with them. I decided to leave, and having my parents involved made the difference this time around. If I had done it alone, it would have been a real struggle, financially and emotionally. But with my family’s support, I barely had to deal with the logistics. I went to my embassy interview; they called me to say my visa was ready, and I packed my bags.

I’m on a skilled worker visa. Basically, you need to get a job with an employer who is willing to sponsor you. The UK has a list of jobs that qualify under the skilled worker route, including healthcare, some tech roles, and others. My job was in mental health support, which falls under healthcare.

Once your employer agrees to sponsor you, they issue you something called a Certificate of Sponsorship. You take that, along with your other documents, and submit an application to the Home Office for your visa.

The Certificate of Sponsorship number, your passport, and proof of funds. Sometimes they also ask for a job offer letter and a contract of employment. In my case, I had the offer letter but not the contract yet; the contract came when I arrived in the UK. So in my application, I noted that the contract wouldn’t be available until I was on the ground, and that was fine.

My aunt knew someone who owned a care company and mentioned there were openings. That was it. It was an entry-level role, so I didn’t need prior experience in the field. As long as you can show good communication skills, demonstrate that you’re willing to be trained, and you’re good at your maths and English abilities, you can get those jobs. It’s a bit harder now because employers want more certifications upfront, but at the time, the interview was enough.

On a skilled worker visa, you’re allowed to take on additional part-time work, but you can’t exceed 20 hours a week across those extra roles. The other important thing is that the extra work has to be in the same industry as the job that brought you in. Because I came in through mental health support, I can do any other type of care work on the side — domiciliary care, a care home, or children’s support. It just has to stay within the care space.

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It’s around £12.50 an hour, though you get more if you work on the weekends or public holidays. You can earn up to £13 to £15 on those days. For the kind of care work involved, I think some people should be paid more; the rate should reflect the level of need you’re managing, because not every client is the same. But it’s not as if they’re underpaying you. It’s a livable wage. If you’re working four days a week, doing 12-hour shifts, you can earn between £1,800 and £2,000 a month. If you pick up extra work, you can get to around £2,500.

Very uneventful. I arrived in winter, went straight from the airport to the house, and was indoors almost the entire time. I was doing my mandatory online training before starting the job, surrounded by family. There wasn’t much culture shock right away; it was more gradual. The thing that stood out eventually was how individualistic life here is. 

In Nigeria, you walk around, and people acknowledge you; you know people’s business, and they know yours. Here, everyone is on their own. Nobody is really paying attention to what’s going on with you. That took some adjusting.

It’s difficult, honestly. I think it’s easier if you come in as a student because you’re in class with people, and you can find your people naturally. As a young worker, it’s harder. At most of the places I’ve worked, I’ve been the youngest person by a significant margin, so connecting with colleagues hasn’t been easy. I did a diploma programme here to qualify for university entry, and that’s where I’ve made a few friends. I’ve heard Hinge has a “friends” mode that some people use to find community. I haven’t tried it personally, but people say it works.

I love the financial freedom. I wasn’t working in Nigeria, so I was fully dependent on my parents. Now that I earn, I can make my own plans, and they are likely to actually work out. There’s not much that will derail you if you’ve got something going. It’s a stable economy. That stability is everything.

It’s boring and lonely. Especially when you didn’t grow up here, and you don’t already have a ready-made social circle. That’s the real trade-off nobody talks about enough. I don’t regret moving with my family. I genuinely could not imagine doing this alone.

Nothing overt, at least not to my face. The Brits are a bit more posh about it, unlike Americans. I’ve had a few strange looks and a few interactions that would have gone differently if I were someone else. There are experiences at work, even from clients who are supposed to be experiencing mental health difficulties, where you can tell race is a factor in the way they treat you. If you’re in the middle of an episode and you can still clock that I’m Black and say something racist, that says something about you.

The racism I face has been more systemic. There are things my white colleagues are afforded the space to do that I would face consequences for, and sometimes the person enforcing that isn’t even white themselves. It’s internalised hate. And there’s also the reality of being an immigrant whose visa is tied to the job; that vulnerability means many people absorb behaviour from employers they absolutely shouldn’t have to.

Yes. I miss the lifestyle — being a student, being carefree, not having this much at stake. I miss the way you can just be yourself back home, around people who’ve known you your whole life. The freedom of not having a visa hanging over your decisions. I’m not the type to tolerate rubbish from people, but I find myself having to calculate things here in a way I never would have at home. And the food. I miss the food.

Not permanently, no, at least not based on what I can see right now. I might not stay in the UK forever, but I don’t see myself moving back to Nigeria. My plan is to get my midwifery degree here, and once I build something like that here, it wouldn’t make sense to leave a pound-earning life unless things seriously improve back home. Nigeria needs help. It really does. As for visiting, yes, I want to, but the degree is coming out of pocket, so financially it’s just not happening right now.

Build yourself up as quickly as you can once you arrive. Get your driver’s licence done. Get your care certifications, your National Vocational Qualification (NVQ) Level 3 or Level 5, whatever level is appropriate for where you’re starting from. 

The reason this matters is that it gives you options. There is a lot of employer abuse that happens in this industry, especially with immigrants, and the visa situation makes people feel trapped. If you’ve got your certifications, you can move to a different job. 

So don’t stay in a situation that doesn’t serve you just because you’re afraid of losing sponsorship. Start job hunting while you’re still in that job, make the transition, but don’t let bad employers hold you hostage.

I’d say a Seven. I don’t like stress, and this is stressful. I’m happy, though. Every plan I have is moving, slowly, but moving. Nothing is derailing it. That’s what I came here for, and it’s happening. So seven feels right.

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