Adulting: How a global pandemic altered the course of a young student’s journey
Parental control is not something I am particularly familiar with. I went from six years of boarding school in another state to four years of university on another continent. So technically, I have not lived at home since I was 11 years old. When COVID-19 struck, I was right in the middle of living my best life: I had just graduated from university, secured a job, and was planning to go on a myriad of trips before I was contractually obligated to begin adulting. However, in the middle of March, I was called back home to Nigeria to ride out the COVID storm. At first, it was only supposed to be for three weeks while the world sorted itself out, but that was now eight months ago.
I was not the only one. As immigrants or children of immigrants, many of my friends and classmates were swiftly being flown back home. While some of us were forced to finish our last semester online—forfeiting the graduation ceremony that was set to be the zenith of our entire university experience—the rest of us were required to join the labour force in the midst of a global pandemic. In short, we were all trying to achieve maximum potential, while suddenly being back within the confines of our parents’ houses.
We went from intense, sometimes terrifying independence, to complete reliance. With that reliance came parental control that many of us were not used to, did not welcome, and for some, quite frankly, could not handle. Living in an African household comes with its own hassles. For some, it is not sleeping past a certain hour, while for others, it involves always being present to respond to demands. For women in their 20’s, there is also the added expectation to behave, cook or clean in a certain way. Under normal circumstances, we would only have to experience these things in small doses, but now we were living in it with no foreseeable end in sight. What a mindf@#*!
While some of us were forced to finish our last semester online—forfeiting the graduation ceremony that was set to be the zenith of our entire university experience—the rest of us were required to join the labour force in the midst of a global pandemic
My situation was a tad unique as these months were supposed to be my time for exploration and self-actualization. I had not had a break since I started university, but somewhere in the middle of a global pandemic, and life shocking me on all fronts, my months of enjoyment turned into a struggle to reset. I had to reset my expectations for the time being, while also finding a way to adapt to my new normal. I was adamant about taking the much-needed break from the hustle and bustle of regular life, but the lockdown did not make it easy. To survive, I stopped watching the news entirely. I needed to find a way to flee from reality and at the same time, accept the current situation. With reading as my new coping mechanism, I have read over thirty books during lockdown, thus far.
For those who stayed abroad, COVID-19 brought about a completely different struggle: eligibility issues amidst increasing racial tension. Since courses were strictly online, were people able to remain in the country and still be within the requirements of their visas? Would they even be able to work with new regulations, based on recent graduate hiring procedures? All this was new and unknown, and happening in the wake of George Floyd’s murder. So, while many of us questioned if a place remained for us in these countries, post-pandemic, our peers were facing the recurring question of what it meant to be Black in the West.
We went from intense, sometimes terrifying independence, to complete reliance
From the outside, it seemed as if COVID-19 had stopped the world right before our very eyes. But for those in their early 20’s, the ones who had just completed university, real life was just beginning. For us, the pandemic brought about confusion, uncertainty, and anxiety at a time that was already terrifying. The job market was the worst it had been since the recession, and companies were cancelling internships, and downsizing staff, following the typical strategy of last in, first out. LinkedIn was now filled with job rescission notifications, and I was terrified that I was going to join them. Lady Luck must have been on my side because my offer was not withdrawn. My own conundrum, however, was figuring out a way to return to my official work location 6,624 miles away. In Nigeria, international travel had been cancelled since March 2020, and the only flights that were leaving were evacuation flights for citizens who lived in America. In a nutshell, I was screwed!
After three months of intense negotiation, I am happy to now be able to work remotely until I can leave the country; yes, even as I write this, I am still in Nigeria. What this has translated to is a very weird work schedule. Due to the time difference, I usually work until 1 am every day, but that is not the worst part. The realization that my career will be entirely remote for at least the next year was a huge dampener. Human interaction is extremely critical in career development, and especially for my sanity. The people you pass in the elevator or meet as you get coffee are often how you learn to not just navigate but adapt to a new work environment. But in a remote setting, my workplace consists of me, my laptop, my horrible internet connection, and a fluctuating power supply.
On the other hand, it has made me a lot bolder in the workplace as I have had to learn to be more vocal simply because if I do not speak, no one knows I am there. At the same time, I am trying to connect with colleagues just like me, who are navigating the workplace in a completely new way. It has been surprisingly successful.
Adulting for me is no longer getting my own apartment, figuring out where and how to live by myself, budgeting, or rather stretching my paycheck to its last cent. It has become the art of navigating a changing world while simultaneously protecting my mental space. Hitting reset is adopting a positive spin on even this situation. I have spent the most time with my family than ever before, and I am learning and relearning about my country, my home and myself. Hitting reset is adapting to what seems to be my new normal. Living in my parents’ house, working remotely in another time zone, and constantly hoping and praying that the world sorts itself out soon. Hitting reset is accepting Adulting – Version 2020.
Wish me luck!