dating to marry doesnt mean I'm dating you to marry YOU.. It means, Im dating you to see if i WANT to marry you.... thats a conversation nobody is ready for.
One of the deepest reasons I cannot leave Nigeria is my family; and I do not mean my wives and children. I mean my parents and my siblings.
I do not imagine a life so far away that I cannot wake up one morning and simply decide, “Today I will go and see my parents.” That freedom, that nearness, that quiet possibility of presence, is not something I am willing to trade for any opportunity abroad.
I have had friends who told me: Adam, Nigeria is not for you. You can make a lot more money and achieve a lot more professionally, outside Nigeria. To me, that’s not the kind of life or career fulfilment I want. As one of my mentors always tells me: you can achieve bigger things even from small places. This has made me more resolute in achieving it all in Nigeria, with my family around me, in the shortest possible distance.
There is a particular comfort in knowing that the people who knew you before the world knew your name are still within reach. The ones who watched you crawl, who corrected you when you went astray, who celebrated every small victory long before the certificates and the titles arrived. To be hours, not continents, away from them is a form of wealth that money cannot buy and distance steadily erodes.
I have seen too many people return home only for funerals. I have watched the slow regret that settles when parents grow older and the visits become fewer, shorter, and more formal. I do not want that story for myself. I want to still be able to walk into their house without announcement, to sit and talk without the pressure of limited days, to share ordinary moments that only proximity makes possible.
My siblings are part of that same circle. We are not just relatives; we are the living archive of one another’s childhood. The jokes that need no explanation, the shared memories that still make us laugh, the quiet understanding that comes from having been raised under the same roof and the same values. Distance does not destroy love, but it changes the texture of it. I prefer the texture that remains close.
This is not sentimentality. It is a deliberate choice about the kind of life I want to live. Success that requires permanent separation from the people who formed me feels incomplete. I can travel. I can explore. I can even work across borders when necessary. But the centre of my life remains here, Nigeria, within reach of the people who matter most in the deepest, oldest sense.
Some will call it limitation. I call it rootedness and I am content with that.
Resident doctor fucked the nurse.
First-year student fucked the nurse.
Intern fucked the nurse.
Ward boy fucked the nurse.
Lab technician fucked the nurse.
PG student fucked the nurse.
Duty doctor fucked the nurse.