You think you’re prepared when you move to a new country. You read the guidebooks, memorize a few phrases, and tell yourself you’ll adapt quickly. But nothing really prepares you for the small, everyday moments that remind you just how different life can be and how much of home you carry with you.
For me, living between Nigeria and Germany has been a constant balancing act. It’s not just about the big, obvious cultural shifts. It’s the tiny moments that catch you off guard and teach you the most.
Back in Nigeria, conversations flowed like music… sometimes smooth, sometimes loud, but always full of life. Pidgin, English, and Urhobo blended effortlessly. A simple “How you dey?” wasn’t just a question; it was a way of showing you cared. Here in Germany, conversations are structured and precise. When someone asks, “Haben Sie etwas Schönes fürs Wochenende geplant?” (Do you have something nice planned for the weekend?), it feels polite but distant. It took time to understand that this was just a different way of connecting.
I still remember my first few months here. I greeted a colleague with, “How’s your family?” Her surprised look said it all. It wasn’t the norm. Slowly, I learned that language here wasn’t just about vocabulary; it was about cultural rhythms. Adjusting was tough, but it taught me to see the heart behind these formalities.
Respect too, takes on different forms. In Nigeria, respect is in almost every interaction. Titles like “sir” and “ma” aren’t just common; they’re a sign of proper upbringing. In Germany, respect takes a different form; titles are rare, even in professional settings. “Just call me Klaus,” a manager once told me; uhm, calling my boss by his first name felt… wrong, almost like breaking an unspoken rule. But here, from my observation, it was the norm.
Even personal space has its own set of rules. Back home, standing close during a conversation or patting someone’s arm is a sign of warmth. In Germany, I quickly learned this can feel intrusive. Once, I instinctively tapped someone on the shoulder during a chat, only to see them step back, startled. It was a cultural line I didn’t know I had crossed.
And then there’s time. In Nigeria, “African man time” is a light-hearted phrase for a relaxed approach to schedules. ‘Weddings start when the important people arrive, not when the clock says so’. But in Germany, time is sacred. Meetings start exactly on the hour, and being even a few minutes late is seen as disrespectful. Adjusting to this wasn’t easy, but it taught me to see time as a shared commitment.
Workplaces here tell their own story. Back home, hierarchy is king. Ideas flow from the top down, and challenging authority is rare. I vividly remember my first team meeting in Germany. I kept quiet, waiting for the director to speak first. When I finally shared an idea, someone asked, “Why didn’t you bring that up sooner?” It was a learning moment: here, respect isn’t about silence… it’s about contribution.
Family life carries its own unique challenges. In Nigeria, elders are the guiding force in major decisions, from career paths to where you live. Their wisdom shapes generations. In Germany, individuality is key. Choices like career changes or moving to another city are often made independently, with little external input.
Even with these differences, at home, I keep Nigerian traditions alive; through food, stories, and values while embracing the structure and independence that life here has taught me.
Integration isn’t perfect, but it’s deeply personal. It’s about growth, connection, and creating a balance. It’s a gift of honouring where you come from while growing into where you are.
