In the June edition of Muses – the arts blog from BJPsych International – acclaimed Nigerian poet and Muses blog editor Dami Ajayi shares his experience of “starting a new job in a new city in a new country” and how he coped.

My life as I knew it changed in the autumn of 2019. I started a new job in a new city in a new country. To further tip the scale, my aisle-destined engagement began to fail that summer, with unresolved conflicts sporadically rearing their heads in five cities on three continents. That summer, my laptop (and all my precious writing and dissertation) was stolen on a flight from London to Lagos.  

I resumed my new job, browbeaten. I arrived in London, and my accommodation plans fell through. Cash-strapped, I was sofa-surfing with relatives who lived in deep southeast London (SE16) from where I commuted to work in northwest London (W9). 

I did not understand how the trains worked. I would miss my way to and from work a few times every day, squandering what was left of my savings, tapping in and out of TFOL barriers. It rained heavily on my first day at work, and I had travelled without an umbrella.  

I was sleeping poorly; I lost my appetite; I was irritable. As if this wasn’t enough, my vision became blurry. I was diagnosed with a refractive error and some astigmatism.  

In retrospect, I was on the brink of a breakdown. I had an anxiety attack in the stairwells of Elephant and Castle train station. I tripped and fell, clambering to the ground with my yellow suitcase. Although I sustained no physical injury, my pride was severely bruised.  

In Lagos, I was a respected doctor, an acclaimed poet, and a cultural critic. In London, I was a man lying on the floor of a train station. This, too, is what it means to migrate. Migration and failed engagements are social stressors all too well known. Stressors are tinder for igniting mental illness. London, a cosmopolitan city like Lagos, brought its flavour to the accruing stress.  

Sitting on the train station floor, watching commuters scurry to their destinations, I considered booking a flight back to Nigeria. I did not have the needed funds. Instead, I travelled to work with my yellow luggage. Then I turned to what I knew best: music and writing. I listened to songs that I associated with joy and better times. The troika of King Sunny Ade, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti and Rex Lawson. The canonical 90s R&B of Davina, Carl Thomas, and Donell Jones. The solemn Juju Roots of JO Oyesiku, Ambrose Campbell, and Julius Olofin. 

I wrote poems obsessively: on the bus, at the bus stand, on the train platform, during my lunch break—little wonder, the poems that survived that experience were obsessed with movement. Six months later, the COVID-19 pandemic happened.  

My third volume of poems, Affection & Other Accidents, published this month a year ago, was critically acclaimed and declared the best-selling poetry book of 2022 by RovingHeights in Nigeria. 2019 has become a blur. The year is 2023; I have a roof over my head, a satisfactory job that allows me time to write, and London has become home.  

This, too, is what it means to migrate. 
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Affection-Other-Accidents-Dami-Ajayi/dp/B0B2TPRS1T

Welcome to Muses – the arts blog from BJPsych International. Launched in March 2022, this new blog aims to highlight international art and artists, particularly from low-and-middle-income countries, with a focus on mental health. We welcome submissions for consideration, such as, comments on artwork, visual arts, literature, drama, films, podcasts, and videos. Do have a look at the instructions for blog authors for details on how to submit. General enquiries about the blog: BJPInternational@rcpsych.ac.uk

Professor David Skuse, Editor-in-Chief, BJPsych International