I dey UK, But I’m Not Okay (Part 1)
By Ololade Abidemi Obadina
I moved for better life, now I Google “seasonal depression”.
The sun hides like my savings account.
Rain falls in July, and my mood follows.
I pay bills that multiply like rabbits.
I thought growth would feel like sunshine.
I thought peace would come in a paycheck.
I thought I’d land and finally exhale.
Instead I’m learning how to budget my hope.
The meter beeps, the rent comes round,
And my brain asks “How much longer till we’re found?”
I make tea to feel human,
Scroll jobs to feel useful,
And tell myself this is just a season.
But some seasons feel like they own the lease.
So I laugh a little, before the cry wins.
Mental health here costs more than therapy.
My accent confuses them, their accent confuses me.
“Innit” “mate” “you alright?” — I nod like I understand.
But inside I translate like a UN interpreter.
They ask “where are you really from?” like it’s small talk.
I say the name of my city, they ask again like it’s a trick.
I smile, because anger is expensive here.
I shrink, because being loud gets you marked.
For this UK, I must dey Okay
CVs go out like prayers in the night.
Rejections come back before morning light.
I’m “overqualified” or “not the right fit.”
Translation: we don’t know what to do with you.
Still I apply, still I show up.
Still I believe my name will one day be enough.
Na so life be, we dey manage am.
Bill dey come, council tax dey shout.
Oyster card finishes faster than my patience.
Grocery bill don turn horror movie.
But I still send money home, to family.
I wear layers like armor against the cold.
I wear politeness like armor against the bold.
I wear “I’m fine” even when I’m not.
Because asking for help feels like a lot.
Some days the grey sky matches my head.
Some days I miss the sun and the noise instead.
But I’m building something here, brick by brick.
Learning the slang, learning not to flinch.
Learning that “okay” is not the goal —
Healing is, and I’m getting closer to whole.
One day I’ll say “I dey UK, and I dey okay.”