No Stanford for me, I am Nigerian
“What colleges are you applying to?” I keep getting asked this question, and I roll my eyes every time it’s uttered again.
It is well-meaning for people to ask. It is expected that high-achieving students in their final year of high school have already submitted a couple of college applications by December and have even gotten accepted to a few if they applied early. As for me, I had to forgo plans of applying to colleges in the United States.
Why is that? I am Nigerian.
This is a pretty unexpected three-word response to why I have made such a naive decision. Or is it?
My country has been a topic of conversation online for a while now. I wish it were for something positive. I truly wish it were. But apparently, due to violence perpetrated against people of Christian faith in parts of the country, Nigeria has been designated a “country of particular concern” by the American government — and even Nicki Minaj spoke about it at the United Nations and posted about Nigeria on X, repeatedly. Oh, boy.
Last week, I opened Instagram and the first thing I came across was a graphic that made my heart sink. It read, “The U.S. has placed partial travel restrictions on Nigerian travelers.” I immediately rushed to confirm, and there it was on The White House’s website: President Donald Trump had signed a proclamation placing over 36 countries on bans or partial restrictions. And there was Nigeria. Always at the scene of the crime.
It was unexpected because I was excited about the possibility of being a freshman by fall of 2026 and living my best life on the campus of whatever U.S. college wanted me to contribute to their community. I would have been so good at being a college student, trust me. In fact, I already had a Pinterest board of how I want my college life to unfold beautifully. I aimed to be the overdressed international student on campus.
I will be honest — Stanford wasn’t even one of the colleges I was considering in 11th grade. I thought it was for the nerds, tech bros and LinkedIn warriors. I thought I would be better off at Yale or a liberal arts college no one in my city had heard of, where artsy, socially conscious kids like me thrived. However, after participating in a Stanford Pre-Collegiate Studies enrichment program, I began to fall in love with Stanford.
Little did I know that unexpected sociopolitical events could disrupt my silly little plans. It is unfair. Deeply unfair. Yes, the Nigerian government must be pressured to take action to address the security crises and violence plaguing the country. I don’t believe it should be a reason to impose sweeping restrictions that affect Nigerian nationals who have nothing to do with the failures of the nation’s government.
Why is a country like the United States, with ideals that are all for individualism and making it possible for outsiders who might become one of its own, who want to contribute to the American experiment, all for collective judgment? This feels like a modern-day Exclusion Act. I am an individual of my own with hopes, dreams and sheer potential, yet I am being reduced to the post-colonial national identity that is “Nigerian.”
Even beyond restricting visas to study in the United States, I am being denied a shot at the “American Dream.” The immigration process for Nigerians is getting tougher because we are apparently from a country deemed by President Trump as “a disgrace.” Mind you, Nigerians in the U.S. are highly educated and hardworking, which is why many have achieved great success. We contribute to American society as entrepreneurs, doctors, and even athletes. Naija no dey carry last, abeg!
In an ideal world, there should be nothing wrong with my parents choosing to have their first son in Lagos, Nigeria. Nigerians are now engaging in birth tourism so that the limitations of a Nigerian passport won’t hold their children back. International mobility can shape a child’s life outcomes. Those with Nigerian citizenship are disadvantaged by default due to a weak green passport that is often deemed one of the major cons of being Nigerian. Nigeria is a complex country, rich in culture and human capital, with the potential to be great. Yet, it continues to fail its people — especially the youth. The nation’s shortcomings are keeping young Nigerians from reaching their full potential beyond its borders.
Like James Baldwin stated, “I am what time, circumstance, history, have made of me, certainly, but I am, also, much more than that. So are we all.” Even with this limitation, I would never dare limit myself. If a door is shut in my face, then I must create a new one for myself. I have spent my whole life carving a space in this chaotic world for myself. And I won’t be backing down because of this unexpected setback. I hope the restrictions are lifted, but until then, no Stanford for me. I can’t believe I won’t have a chance to play in the fountains, run for Associated Students of Stanford University (ASSU) President and hopefully win, fall in love and fall out of love on the Farm, serve on the executive board of the Nigerian Students Association (NAIJA), and have a weekly column in The Daily where I yap about anything and everything. I guess this is what I get for being a citizen of the “Giant of Africa.”
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