On the day I found out I was granted a visa to stay in the UK, I immediately called my partner to tell her and then heard her scream for joy alongside our seven-year-old son.

After 11 years of living in the UK – nine of those undocumented – I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. I can rest comfortably knowing that the future of my family is safe. 

Though the road to get there was tough.

I first arrived in the UK from Nigeria in 2009 after graduating from university a year earlier and struggling to find a job.

Around the same time, it was becoming increasingly dangerous to live in my home country with the presence of a corrupt government and escalating violence threatening to destroy the lives of millions.

So I flew into London on a two-year visitor visa to get away from it all and forge a new life for myself. I had been to the UK before and had a cousin living in London, so it wasn’t a completely daunting experience.

When I first arrived, I stayed with my relative for a short period of time but then found accommodation of my own.

In this time, I met people within the Nigerian community who vouched for me when it came to finding cash-in-hand jobs. Sometimes I’d help people move house, deliver goods or work as a kitchen porter in various African, Indian or Pakistani restaurants.

Even though I knew I wasn’t allowed to work on the visa I had, I felt like I didn’t have a choice because it was the only way I could survive. 

After nine months of this in London, I was struggling to pay rent so I decided to move to an area where the housing was cheaper.

I had also heard through friends of undocumented immigrants getting their houses raided after being caught working in the UK when they weren’t supposed to, so I thought that if I moved away from London, I’d be safer. Thankfully, this never happened to me.

When I got to my new neighbourhood, I continued doing odd jobs and I found a place to stay, but couldn’t have my name on any rental agreement or bills because it wasn’t allowed on the visa I had. I got around this by finding accommodation where I could pay cash in hand.

If I tried to leave the UK, border control would see I overstayed my visa and blacklist me

I knew I could be caught and deported at any moment and this terrified me.

When my two-year visa expired, going back wasn’t an option for me. I have no idea what my life would be like but the violent situation in Nigeria was worsening and I was terrified of what would happen if I had to go back.

Around this time, intercommunal, political, and sectarian violence had claimed the lives of more than 14,500 people in just over a decade, according to Human Rights Watch. I was scared for my safety because of the lack of adequate security in Nigeria.

So I just stayed and continued working in the UK. This was the point of no-return because it meant that I was now trapped and couldn’t leave. If I tried to, border control would see I overstayed my visa and blacklist me.

I had also built up a strong support network of friends within the local Nigerian community, so I didn’t want to leave that behind.

In 2011, I was attending a friend’s christening and I met Delilah* – a woman I felt an instant connection with. She was only in the UK for a couple of weeks before she had to go back to Nigeria but we hit it off immediately.

Even though we only had two dates, I knew there was a strong spark between us so we exchanged numbers and spoke to each other every day when she was back in Nigeria. After a few months of non-stop communication, I eventually convinced her to come visit me on a six-month holiday visa.

When she arrived, we were inseparable. She also shared the same safety concerns about going back to Nigeria so I explained my experience of being undocumented in the UK. We agreed that she would also overstay her visa and become an undocumented immigrant in the UK too.

In 2013, we welcomed our son and we were both overjoyed. But two years later, he was diagnosed with autism and it was absolutely devastating.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t get specialised support for him because we were both undocumented. This meant we had to try to help him with the low income I was earning through cash in hand jobs and I couldn’t provide him with everything he needed for his specialist care.

A couple of years ago, I was able to secure documents from a friend that made it look like I had the right to work in the UK.

Doing this was the only way I thought I could survive

So I went to register at the job recruitment centre and then they sent me to work. After a few months of this, the manager was impressed with my hard work and encouraged me to apply for a full-time position.

Immediately, I was hesitant because I was nervous that someone might catch me out using someone else’s documents. Despite that, I decided to take the risk because I craved stability for my family.

I ended up getting the job and I was thrilled because it finally felt like I was on the right track. Even though it was hard work, I felt so proud that I got it and I enjoyed going into work every day because it also provided me with a much-needed steady income.

Unfortunately, the paperwork I was using expired after a few years so I had to quit my job. That’s when I found someone else’s documents in order to apply for another stable job.

Doing this was the only way I thought I could survive.

Once that was all finalised, I applied for a job caring for adults with autism and got it. As my son is autistic, I wanted to help give back.

This meant I was supporting their day-to-day lives by helping them wake up, shower, shave, get dressed, participate in activities throughout the day, prepare food and put them to bed.

I felt incredibly privileged to be able to assist in this way – and even more so when the pandemic hit and my work was moved into the category of an essential worker. Throughout lockdown, I’ve been tirelessly working away to make sure that the autistic adults I care for are as comfortable and supported as possible.

I first learned that I could apply for a family visa through my son from the guy whose identity I initially assumed. He told me that undocumented parents can apply for a family visa if their child is British or if their child has lived in the UK for seven years.

So I approached a solicitor and enquired about applying for a visa through my son’s residence in the UK.

Undocumented immigrants are just trying to survive the best we can and some of us are hoping to provide for our families

I had to be entirely open with the solicitor about everything I had done in the UK because he said that if I had misled him about my immigration status, he would’ve been unable to help me.

So I explained that I had been using a friend’s identity because I felt like I had no other choice. I was worried that this might affect the application but the solicitor assured me that it wouldn’t be relevant to the consideration of whether it would be reasonable for my son to leave the UK.

My wife and I submitted our applications last year – proving that our child is seven years old, born in the UK and that we can provide for him – and hoped for the best.

After some processing delays due to the pandemic, our family visas were finally approved in December 2020 and we couldn’t be happier.

Our solicitor emailed me with the good news and said that we had been granted two and a half year visas each. We would need to keep renewing these visas for the next 10 years, when we’ll be able to apply for settlement.

If the visas were denied, I honestly don’t know what we’d have done about going back to Nigeria. My son’s never even been to Nigeria so it wouldn’t have been fair on him at all.

Finally we have some security and we don’t need to worry about being deported to a country we wouldn’t even recognise if we were forced to go back.

Unfortunately, I won’t be able to keep the same job I had because I was using someone else’s identity and I can’t just swap it over but as soon as I get things like my National Insurance Number, I’d love to go back into working as an essential worker in the disability sector.

By sharing my story, I want to help people see that undocumented immigrants aren’t just coming to the UK and claiming benefits or being a drain on society. We’re just trying to survive the best we can and some of us are hoping to provide for our families.

We often struggle on a daily basis and can’t even sleep comfortably because we’re constantly watching our backs. I understand that there are some bad people that come into this country but many of us are just doing what we think is right, and often giving back in the process.

Don’t demonise us when you would probably do the same.

Now that we have our visas, my family and I can sleep comfortably knowing that our futures are safer and more stable. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

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