“Travel, So That You May Realise How Much You’ve Been Lied To”

Subtitle: There are truths you’ll never be told. And then there are truths you’ll only ever find — by going.

I. The Lie of a Single Story

They told us the world was dangerous.
That people out there were cold, strange, unwelcoming.
That borders were barriers not bridges.
That we needed to “make it” at home first before we dared to roam.

They said travel was for the rich, the white, the privileged.
That black bodies abroad are either watched or wasted.
That everywhere is worse than here.
Or better. But not for people like us.

So we stayed.
We swallowed what they fed us.
We believed what we saw on TV.
We stopped asking questions and started building walls inside ourselves.

Until one day, we left.

II. The Airport as a Mirror

You don’t realise how heavy your thoughts are until you drag them through immigration.
The first time you leave Nigeria, Ghana, Kenya wherever you call “home” you begin to hear your own mind differently.

Suddenly, you’re not just carrying your passport.
You’re carrying your upbringing.
Your myths.
Your parents’ fears.
Your culture’s pride.
And your country’s wounds.

And it all starts to loosen one flight at a time.

III. “They Don’t Tell You This”

In Tokyo, no one called me “black man” on the street.
In Amsterdam, a stranger walked 15 minutes out of his way just to show me where the tram stop was.
In Vancouver, I watched how the homeless had shelters, warm meals, dignity.
In Rwanda, I saw a country heal from genocide without becoming bitter.
In Morocco, I was welcomed into homes that weren’t mine — offered mint tea like family.

And I kept thinking:

Why didn’t they tell us this?
Why didn’t they show us that kindness doesn’t need to come in our accent or skin tone?

They didn’t tell us about other ways of living, other ways of raising children, other ways of treating the elderly, of building cities, of handling grief, of respecting women, of protecting water, of feeding the poor, of prioritizing mental health.

They didn’t tell us we had options.
Because options give you freedom.
And freedom makes you question everything.

IV. What Travel Taught Me That School Never Could

That intelligence isn’t loud it’s often quiet and curious.
That faith looks different in every language but love feels the same.
That the world isn’t flat. And neither are its stories.
That “home” can be many places and sometimes it’s a person, not a country.
That healing doesn’t happen in motion it happens in reflection after the motion.

And most of all:
That I’ve been lied to.

About what’s normal.
About what’s possible.
About who I could become

V. Travel and See

You’re still going by hunches. Still arguing in comment sections about places you’ve never touched.
Still repeating stories passed down from people who never left their streets.

And that’s okay.
We all start from somewhere.

But if you want to know — truly know —
Don’t ask me for a list.
Don’t trust the algorithm.

Just go.

Travel and see.
Not for Instagram.
Not for “I made it.”
But for yourself.
For the version of you that’s been locked under layers of inherited fear and filtered information.

Because some things won’t make sense…
Until you leave everything that ever made sense behind.