A few days ago, I came across a video on TikTok that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. It was of a woman standing in front of the consulate in Berlin, crying. She was pleading desperately for her two young sons to be returned to her.
I don’t know the full story. Allegedly, her children were taken away because her living conditions didn’t meet certain standards. That’s what some of the comments suggested. But I don’t know if that’s true. What I do know is what I saw: a mother who looked mentally and physically capable, a mother whose heart had been broken in a way only parents can truly understand.
In the video, she begged, “Give me my children, and I’ll leave your country. I’ll go back to Nigeria.” She just wanted her boys back… her babies, who were both under ten years old. And in that moment, it didn’t matter where the truth lay or what the backstory was. All I could see was a mother’s pain, raw and unfiltered, as she stood there crying for her children.
It hit home for me because I know that feeling. I know what it’s like to be separated from your child. I’ll never forget the day at the airport when my daughter had to walk away from me. My heart sank so deep! I had two of my daughters beside me, but one was leaving, and it felt like a piece of me was being ripped away. It’s a feeling you can’t put into words and seeing that woman’s tears brought it all back.
Immigration is full of stories like this of families divided, of love tangled up in rules and decisions. People leave their homes, chasing a better life, but sometimes the price they pay feels too high. The systems we enter don’t always see us as humans with hearts and families; they see paperwork, numbers, policies and regulations.
I can’t stop thinking about that mother. I wonder what will happen to her and her sons. Will she get them back? Will she be forced to return to Nigeria without them? I don’t know. What I do know is that her pain is real, and it’s shared by so many immigrants who leave everything behind only to find themselves fighting for what matters most.
This story isn’t just about her; it’s about all of us who have migrated. It’s about the sacrifices we make, the heartbreak we endure, and the moments that make us question if any of it is truly worth it. But somehow, we keep going because, in the end, what other choice do we have?
I can already hear it: “If it’s so hard, why not just stay in your country?” But life is never that simple. Leaving home isn’t a whim—it’s a necessity born from stories most people will never fully understand.
To that mother and every other parent fighting for their children in a foreign land, I see you. I feel your pain. And I hope, somehow, your story ends with the reunion you deserve.
