How This American Deportee Landed a Job at an American Immigration Law Firm (A short story)

Happy new week my people! Did you think that I had forgotten about you? Not for one second. Adulting has been taking up most of my time and I did not want to put out subpar articles just to fill up space, hence my short hiatus. My apologies for any inconveniences this most have caused (haha). However, I am back with a bang! Remember the story I have been hinting at for months? The one about how I got my dream job? Yes, today is that day! This is going to be a long one; it will involve some back stories to provide the right context. So, sit back, relax, and enjoy as I tell you this sweet gist.

Remember the story of how I got deported from America? (if you have not read that yet, you must do so now by following this link: Telling This Lie Got me Deported). Prior to my deportation, I was struggling a great deal. I was someone who always had what I needed and desired. I never lacked for anything. If I wanted something, all I had to do was ask my parents, and immediately I received it.

This was my life growing up until 2015, when a shift occurred; one dollar became five hundred naira, and my father said - aunty, if you are not willing to come back home, you are on your own oh! Well, not in those exact words, but I hope you catch my drift. By this time, I was jobless, and still praying to God to provide a job for me on American soil.

By December 2015, me who was once a lender to others, quickly became a borrower; something I never did, and I hated it. Additionally, I maxed out all my credit cards and found it difficult to pay my bills. Because of shame sprinkled with a little bit of pride, I refused to ask my family for help. I painted this unrealistic picture for them that all was well, however, I began working odd jobs to make ends meet.

I remember instances when the children I’d babysit, were rude to me. In my mind I’d exclaim, “Chai! A whole engineering graduate! These children don’t know you are educated.” Many times, I’d cry wanting to quit, but something strange would happen. On one occasion, an old white woman saw me going on a walk with the kids, and said to me, “it is amazing what you are doing for these children, God bless you.”

She must have known I was having a terrible day. Her words reassured me that what I was doing, I did as unto the Lord. Another frustrating instance was when I had repeatedly changed the diaper for a child who kept on pooping. Let’s just say I wasn’t smiling the last time she soiled her diaper. As I changed her, this child who was about two years old said to me, “thank you miss Evi...” My frown immediately became a smile.

I also remember walking into the room one day as the children watched Veggie Tales, and in that moment one of the characters quoted Colossians 3:23-24, “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for me, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward.” Moments like these kept me going while I sought the Lord to do something drastic, especially as the time for my brother’s wedding drew near. Well, drastic he did, when I got deported in 2017, and had to face reality in Nigeria.

Amid my pain, I began looking for ways to solve my problem. In fact, prior to my deportation, I had become so acquainted with the United States Citizenship and Immigration (USCIS) website, to find out what options were available for me to remain in the US legally. But there was no miracle that could happen within the steep timeline I had created for myself.

So, I reached out to an immigration lawyer while in Nigeria, explaining my situation to him. He then said to me, “just relax, don’t rush to return here. Make a life for yourself in Nigeria, then reapply after your bar expires.” I was disappointed. I spent $150 to speak to this lawyer for less than 30 minutes, who basically told me what I did not want to hear.

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My family rallied around me and made my transition a smooth one. To be honest, after I accepted that there was no way I was going to return to America, I began enjoying my life in Nigeria. At least, I did not have to struggle for money; I sold my car and household items in the US and had cool cash to enjoy my first year. I soon began my NYSC; additionally, my father provided a monthly allowance, and so there wasn’t a whole lot of financial pressure on me.

Then in 2018, I and my brother purchased Toyota Siennas, and rented them out to a transportation company which gave us a certain amount of money each month. Although I was seeing some money, I wasn’t comfortable sitting at home after NYSC was over. Sometime in 2019, while strolling down Instagram streets, I came across a job posting for writers. I was excited about this opportunity because I had just started my writing journey in 2018 and told my family (proudly) that writing was what I wanted to do professionally.

So, I sent in some of my written work to the writing agency and immediately was contacted for an interview. That was when I realized how far their office was from my house. On the day of the interview, I almost did not make it. But because I had already informed my family of this opportunity, I had to go. After the interview, I was asked how much I expected as salary. I mentioned 160K, and my then boss laughed at me.

This agency at the time was just starting out and did not necessarily have the funds to cover that amount in salary. As such, what I was offered was a little below 100K, and I accepted, only if they’d let me come in three times a week because of how far my house was from the office. They were also gracious enough to let me resume at 10am while others came in at 9am. I am sure I had a lot of enemies at the time.

I appreciated their kind gesture, but that did not erase the grim reality of the commute. I spent three hours going to work and four hours going back home. My feet will swell because of the drive, and by the time I get to work on most days, I am already mentally spent. Half my salary also went to fueling my car; and let’s just say the mainland roads at the time were also hostile to my car.

By the time I was done with that job, I had no shocks absorber left. Also, if someone did not bash me, I was often crying because of the traffic. One day, a hawker boy pleasured himself in front of me while I was stuck in gridlock. I was terrified that if I raised any alarm, he could pick up a stone and attack me. So, I endured the horrific incidence for the time being, avoiding every attempt at an eye-contact with him - what did I not see on these mainland streets?

After a short while, I began staying with family members who lived closer to the mainland, to cut down my commute hours. During this time, I was comfortable financially. I was earning a salary, getting passive income from my Sienna, and receiving a monthly allowance from my father.

In fact, I planned to travel to London in March 2020, and purchased my ticket in December 2019, without batting an eyelid. Then we all know how 2020 happened (you can read about how Covid ruined my trip here). During the lockdown, we began having issues with the transportation company. Covid had caused business to slow down tremendously, and they weren’t remitting enough money. On top of that, the vehicles were always having issues and as such, most months, all our profit went into car repairs.

The lockdown had also stripped me from every desire of returning to the hellish commute, or even staying over at people’s houses during the week just to make it to work. The work itself was incredibly mentally tasking. I knew for a fact that I had no interest in telling people’s stories. I wanted to just tell mine, however, my blogging hadn’t yet garnered the type of publicity that could afford you the luxury of making money. After much thought, I still sent in my resignation. Though my bosses weren’t happy I had decided to quit, they couldn’t force me to remain with them either.

Around that same time, my brother also made the decision to part ways with the transportation company and advised that we sell off the cars, as they were no longer in good conditions. We sold my car for about 20% of how much we purchased it. I was distraught. I went from enjoying three streams of income to relying only on my monthly allowance. And because of how bad I was with money; I didn’t have some serious savings stashed away.

Then I began to struggle financially. The most painful part was thinking about the good ole days when I had it all. Those thoughts tormented me, and I did not see how things would get better. With time, I decided to take on ghost writing gigs from those who needed them. If it was a good year, I had two or three clients. If it was a struggle year, I had only one client. When I started out, I charged my clients less than 300K for a project that spanned three months. This was how I was able to manage myself, and thankfully I still had the monthly allowance from my father.

While I had my basic needs met, I did not have money for anything extra. In fact, on some months the allowance I received wasn’t enough to cover the gbese I had accrued for myself. And because I did not want my parents to begin giving me unsolicited advice on how I should do this or do that, I kept my financial woes from them, and kept borrowing money from others instead. (I’ve linked related stories below for you to get the full picture).

I am the kind of person who keeps my troubles to myself. Even though I am going through it, I don’t tell my family what is really happening, because of shame; that is when it has to do with money. I felt a lot of shame because I believed that I wasted many opportunities which came my way because of fear of failure. When my father’s friend pushed me to go for an interview for an oil servicing company, I sabotaged the interview, because I feared that if I got the job, I wouldn’t be able to perform. I broke my father’s heart and couldn’t go back to him whenever I was in need, except it was something major, which he always covered.

So, in November 2021, I suddenly found myself in one of those despondent moments. The client I was working with said we should go our separate ways, and so the money I anticipated, never came. I did not have food in my house, or money in my account. (Please, do not get me wrong, my family was unaware of this. I hid my struggles and looked to God for help.)

I remember reaching out to my friend telling her that I needed some money to buy food. I think I had reached out to a few of my friends and cousins abroad. So, one of my friends said she didn’t have Naira, and sent me dollars.

I reached out to another friend, who usually had Naira and asked if she needed Dollar. When she asked who the Naira was for, and I said it was for me, she went ahead and sent me Naira, without taking the Dollar from me. Then my cousins in the UK also sent me some money.

A few days later, a client I had worked with while I was with my writing agency reached out to me from nowhere, saying she had seen me in her dream, and kept asking if I was doing okay. She then went ahead to offer me to work with her on a project for two months, where she paid me 600K (you can read about that here: How God answered my desperate cries for help). I remember sharing this story with my cousin, and he called my brother and said, “come and hear oh, God has started again…” it was hilarious.

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In May 2022, someone reached out to me saying that a Law Firm in the US was looking for writers, and asked if I was interested. I immediately jumped at the opportunity with a resounding yes. I mean, who no wan make dollar for this economy, even though this economy wasn’t this economy last year. So, I sent her my information, and she forwarded it to the Law Firm, and they contacted me. They explained what the opportunity was about, and how much they were willing to pay per project. It was a freelancing opportunity, and it worked perfectly for me.

I was given my first assignment and was asked to turn it in within 72 hours. Now, on the day of the submission, I was on a flight from London to Mexico (this trip wasn’t funded by me oh). It was a nine-hour flight. So, I slept for the first two hours and worked for the remaining seven hours. I wanted to turn it in as soon as we landed in Mexico. As such, I typed away on my iPad, while people were just making noise around me, and the flight hostesses tried getting them to be calm - e be like say na the first time them been they go Cancun.

Once we landed, and I was able to connect to WiFi, I sent them the write up, and got paid a few days after. After this, I got three more jobs like that, and then it ended. When I tried reaching out to them again, they said that the person I was working with had gone on an indefinite maternity leave, and so that opportunity was done, and I was left to pick up the pieces of my heart.

I remember previously telling my father about this opportunity, and we were excited about it. In fact, when me, my brother, and my sister-in-law visited my parents in August, I secretly prayed that the firm would send me more jobs, so I’d be working like my sister-in-law, who is an engineer, at least to make my father proud, but nothing came up.

As the months went by, I quickly understood that the opportunity to work with them again was long gone. From time to time, I’d mourn the loss of the opportunity. I believed that perhaps they did not like my writing style, and I had failed yet again even with something I claimed I was good at. For how long was I going to keep my hope alive or even that of my father? I usually consoled myself by saying, “just move on, better things will come.”

On my extremely broke days, I’d dream of how much money I’d make if they called me back, calculating based on if they give me three projects a month to work on, plus my allowance, I should be able to live a decent life – I love to dream, it makes me happy. But that was just a dream, or so I thought.

2023 came around, and I began the new year with a new client, who didn’t give me any headaches about payment, because she lived abroad, and when you convert the Naira, to Pounds, it was nothing to her, so she paid immediately, and I began working. But after the Month of February, things came to a standstill. The first payment I had received from her had finished, and the next payment was slated to come in May. However, I did not deliver until July. And so, did not have any extra money from February till July. My brother stepped in a few times to support me when things became unbearable.

Then in June, one of my very good friends came in from the UK to do something in Nigeria and she stayed with me. Around that time, we were also having a lot of issues with light, I could not afford to fuel my generator, and my inverter had gone bad. However, it was a blessing from God that she was around. She and her husband helped alleviate some of the expenses that we accrued.

After my friend left in July, something happened that compelled me to begin praying again about my finances. By the time August rolled around, I was fed up with the way things were happening in my life. Day and night I cried out to God for help. I expressed how tired I had become and how I desired for things to change. I just wanted something that would give me consistent income, so my father would stop giving me an allowance at 35.

So, I prayed for God to open doors for me, and that I’d find favor with men and with God. Scriptures like these found in 1 Thessalonians 4:11-12, pushed me to keep asking God for help: “….and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.” I knew for a fact that I did not want to depend on anybody; I desired to earn my own living.

I also remembered the story of the widow and Elisha. The widow’s husband owed people money, and they were coming to take her sons from her in payment of the debt. She ran to the prophet and asked for help, then Elisha asked her what she had, and she said she had some oil. He then instructed her to borrow vessels and fill them up with the oil. She did so, and when had exhausted the vessels, she went back to the prophet, who said in 2 Kings 4:7 “Go, sell the oil and pay your debts, and you and your sons can live on the rest.”

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One Sunday, I sat next to one of my friends in church. We began talking about her job and she said she’ll need an assistant if she secured a second job she was looking to get. I asked her how much she was willing to pay the assistant, and she said, “200K.” Then I said, “hire me, I can do the job.” She then explained that the role will become available when she lands her second job. As such, I began praying for God to provide her with this second job she desired, so I too could have a job.

Two weeks later, my church announced that there will be a finance seminar happening on a Saturday. Anything seminar, virtual or physical always felt tedious for me. As such, I was disinterested. However, I changed my mind because I said to myself, “who knows if that is where you might meet your next client?”

One day, as I took my usual stroll through Instagram streets, I saw a video that a relative had reposted about an immigration Lawyer talking about some issues. I immediately recognized her. She was the person I worked with the previous year. I clicked on her profile and admired her office, saying to myself, “how I wish I could work with these people.” Seeing their profile took me back to mourning what I had lost. I however, quickly moved on from it.

A few days later, I was sitting in the finance seminar. As the talks went on, something dropped in my spirit – “why don’t you send the lawyer a message, asking if she has any opportunities for work? What is the worst thing she can say? You were such a horrible writer, and we don’t need your services? You’ll move on abi?” I giggled to myself at the thought of sending them an email. It would just get tossed aside. I thought.

Then another thought challenged that thought: “you know she is a lawyer, she will be busy during the week, and what are the odds that she’ll see your email? You have her number, send her a text.” Wahala! Me who often shies away from making the first move on anything.

However, when I got back home that day, I crafted a text message, pitching my writing skills, saying how much I had grown as a writer in the previous year, and asking if she had any opportunities for work. After sending the text, I threw my phone away. 10 minutes later, she replied.

She expressed how nice it was to hear from me, and said, “you are a fantastic writer, we just were so swamped with work and didn’t have the time for a proper training on the job.” She then went on to say that she was very much interested with speaking with me. The next day, she called me and she asked what exactly I was looking for; if it was freelance, part time, or full-time work. I immediately said, full time, even if I had no idea what it would entail.

She replied, “Great! Because I don’t like hiring people part time.” Ah! My God came through for me oh, imagine if I had said freelance or part-time? She then went ahead to explain the work they do as an immigration law firm, and how they serve their clients. She also informed me about the work hours and what they were offering as salary. This made me very excited. I tried as much as possible to contain myself. However, when she asked if I had plans of relocation, my heart sank. Although I harbor no desires for relocating, I thought - If I tell this woman that I was deported, being an immigration law firm, she may not want to work with me.

However, if there is one thing my deportation taught me, was not to tell lies about such matters. As such, I opened up to her and her reply blew my mind: “when you are ready to reapply, tell me, and I will help you.” Are you still thinking that this is a coincidence?

After our conversation that Sunday, she asked me to think about the possibility of working with them. We also planned to reconvene that Wednesday. I couldn’t believe how quickly things were happening. When the Psalmist said in Psalm 65:2, “You who answer prayer, to you all people will come,” referring to God, he knew exactly what he was talking about. I immediately called my brother who was overjoyed, but I waited to break the news to my father, and the rest of the family, until after I spoke to her again on Wednesday.

I’d admit, I was quite nervous for the three days leading up to Wednesday. I worried if she’d change her mind, or if she’d find someone else. I prayed for favor and believed that whatever the outcome was going to be, I’ll take as the will of God. Wednesday soon came around; I doubt I was able to get proper sleep the night before. I patiently waited all morning for her call to come in the afternoon. I remember brushing my teeth, with my phone attached to my hip because I did not want to miss her call. And tell me why it was in that moment that she called?

I dumped my brush, quickly splashed water on my face and ran to my living room (like she could see me). When I picked up, she simply asked, “have you thought about it?” I replied, “yes.” She then asked, “is the pay good?” I replied, “yes!” And then she said, “welcome on board, when do you want to start?”

After speaking with her, I called my father. He could not believe his ears. He sent me a message the next day praising God for answering our prayers. He said, “Who ever thought such a thing was still possible?”

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You see, God can do anything. I remember when the lawyer spoke to me in 2017, telling me to relax and make a life for myself, those words seemed disparaging to me. I did not know where to begin, or what my identity was going to be separate from the United States. His words now remind me of what God told his people in Jeremiah 29, after they were taken into captivity.

Jeremiah 29: 4-6 says, “Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease.”

Then it continues in verse 10-11 by saying, “For thus says the Lord: When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

I remember Jeremiah 29:11 and Ephesians 6:10 continuously popping up in my spirit in 2017, when I was grappling with making that trip to Nigeria. I remember how many nights I cried just trying to find ways for me to remain in the US. I remember detesting the words my late mother said to my friend when she came to visit me in 2008. She said to her, “make sure Evi goes back to Nigeria.” She died one year later. Did she have an inkling of what God could do with my life? I don’t know.

God has a purpose for his children. All we must do is trust him. Throughout my journey so far, I can tell you that I have learnt patience and contentment. Who I was in December 2015, when things began to breakdown for me, and who I am eight years later, are two completely different people. In 2015, I was hasty, I wanted God to do things the way I wanted. I wanted my story to change immediately due to the little discomfort I faced. I also had a faulty view of who God was and what he sought to accomplish through his children. God had to take me through a process of refining to make me into the woman I am today; perfect and complete, lacking nothing.

Each day I wake up full of gratitude because I cannot believe how God has brought this journey full circle. My organization is a toxic free place to work in – my bosses have zero tolerance for disrespect amongst co-workers and even with our clients. And what I love the most about our firm is that we take our job very seriously. When I first joined, and others said it was a great place to work in, I took that with a grain of salt, and three months in, I can tell you that they did not lie. What I now experience is this: “the blessing of the Lord makes rich, and he adds no sorrow with it.”

God could have blessed me with opportunities from other countries. In fact, I know three close people who all work remotely for European companies. I admired their type of work and only wished that the same could happen for me. If it did, it could have been testimony enough. However, when it was my turn, God opened a door, that was once slammed in my face.

When I broke down in tears in the bathroom at the Atlanta airport, begging him to touch the hearts of the immigration officers, so they will let me in, I did not know that one day, I’d be liaising with them, through the work that we do, while helping our clients with their immigration issues. All those times when I sifted through the USCIS website, looking for a way for me to remain in America, I did not know I was training myself for a job that will require those skills seven years later. God is good, God doesn’t waste anything.

Sha, let me stop here for now. I hope my story encourages someone who is going through it, that God has not left you, God sees you, God is working something much more valuable than what you are asking him for. Due to the contentment and patience, I learned on this journey, it became difficult for me to be envious of anyone. I believed that my time would come, when that time was going to be, I did not know it. I just believed that God would do it; each year I told my father, “Don’t worry God will do it.” I’d also dream of the day when I’d tell my father to stop sending me allowance – ah it seemed so farfetched! However, when that moment came, it was least on my mind.

My father sent me my monthly allowance after I had begun working in August. I automatically assumed that he’d stop after I had gotten the job. Then I said to him, “Ah daddy, you are still sending me allowance?” He said, “you are the one that is supposed to tell me when to stop.” I replied, “okay you can stop now.” I did not sha return the money.

What do you think about this story? Kindly leave your comments below, or reply to this email. If this story resonated with you, it will resonate with others. Please share it with them. And while you are at it, encourage them to subscribe to this platform, so we can keep growing. P.S. If you find some typos in this story, bear with me, I began writing at 8am, and its almost 12 noon. Nothing was going to deter me from putting out this story today. Have a great week! And thank you for sticking with me!

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Telling This Lie Got Me Deported

I Feel Like a Failure

My Struggle with God’s Will

Why I Was Jealous of My Friend

How God Answered My Desperate Cries for Help

I Finally Came Clean with My father