People say once you get to the UK or Germany or Canada or Australia, things will finally fall into place. Better schools, security, a steady life. You think once you make it there, the struggle will ease.You think the world is arranged in levels. Your country is struggling because of corruption, because the government is wicked, because nobody wants to fix the electricity. Other countries, the ones we dream about, seem organised, responsible, strict in a good way. So you convince yourself that if you can just cross over, the problems will fade away.
I would sit and argue about how Nigeria could be fixed in one clean sweep if only leaders were different, more empathetic, and more willing to solve the problems. In my head, nothing was complicated. Everything had a straight line. I really believed most problems came from people refusing to just act right.
Then I took the red pill. Uhmmm. I realised the world is not built on common sense. It’s built on interests, history, power, fear, human behaviour. And everything I thought was straightforward is not.
Watching The Matrix again brought back memories of my dad watching it like it was a documentary. Now I understand why he loved it. The moment you swallow the red pill, there is no going back. You start noticing things you never paid attention to. You start asking questions you didn’t even know you were capable of asking.
Migration has a way of forcing the pill down your throat. Not because the new country is bad, but because it exposes you. You see how even the so-called perfect systems have their own cracks. You start to realise it’s not just corruption that creates hardship. Sometimes it is bureaucracy, sometimes it is culture, sometimes it is the way a society is structured, sometimes it is just the reality of being human. I see how people in other countries complain about their own leaders, how they fight their own battles. There are people who still fall through the gaps even in places that look flawless from far away.
It is a strange feeling because part of you misses the innocence. Life really was easier when I believed the world had simple answers, when I could point at a problem and say this is it, fix this and everything will be fine. Now I know better. And knowing better is both a gift and a burden. The red pill teaches you that no country is perfect. It shows you that stability has a price and every society chooses which price it is willing to pay. People are people everywhere… the good, bad, selfish, tired, overwhelmed, hopeful, confused… So, leaving home is not a reset button, it is simply exchanging one set of challenges for another.
And the hardest part is realising there is no true escape. Not from systems, not from society, not from the human condition. You start questioning everything. Why do things work here but not there? Why do some people get chances and others do not? Why are some problems allowed to continue simply because they serve someone/others?
The more you see, the more you understand why your old opinions felt so confident. My grandmother used to say the frog in the well thinks the sky is only as big as the circle above its head… It is easy to sound wise when you do not know much. It’s easy to talk like a saviour when you have not seen how big the world is.
The red pill humbles you. It reminds you that you are a small part of a very complicated picture. But it also grounds you because once you see the world for what it is, you stop holding onto fantasies. you stop waiting for a perfect country or a perfect system. Instead, you focus on what you can actually change. How you treat people, how you show up, how you think, how you challenge your own biases, how you build community.
Going back to my roots makes more sense now. Not because I’m trying to escape, but as a way to stay balanced. When the world starts to feel too complicated, I remind myself that even though I cannot fix everything, I can still live intentionally. That could be the real gift of the red pill. Clarity that lets you see the truth without losing yourself in it. I’m glad I had this conversation with my daughter today, because I could tell she was getting overwhelmed. Halfway through, I realized she was taking the red pill too.
