Stop Trying to Sound American. You're Nigerian.

If you moved to the US as an adult, chances are your Nigerian accent is here to stay. And most of your attempts to sound American will probably leave you sounding very funny.

Emphasis on the funny.

I want to make a case for why you shouldn’t bother trying so hard to sound like the natives of your host country. Because sounding like your authentic self can actually set you apart, and in many situations, that could work to your advantage.

Let me explain.

I remember walking through downtown Atlanta with my fellow JJCs several years ago.

It was our first week in America, and we were making our way to the MARTA station after attending the university’s orientation program for international students.

We were fresh off the boat, and every single one of us was trying to sound more American.

You can’t have your Osogbo accent floating all over downtown Atlanta. People will know you’re not from here!

So you try to speak like the Americans you just interacted with. You start emphasizing vowels haphazardly, changing your intonation, and pronouncing words in ways you’ve never pronounced them before.

Because apparently, anything but a Nigerian accent will do.

There were about eight of us Nigerians walking to the train station that afternoon, and I can assure you that we all sounded funny.

I’m still struggling to find the right words to describe what we sounded like, but it wasn’t good.

The interesting thing about accents is that when you spend enough time around people who speak differently, you naturally begin to pick up certain aspects of their pronunciation and intonation.

Sometimes you don’t even realize you’re doing it.

But there’s a difference between naturally adapting how you speak and making a conscious effort to sound like someone you’re not.

If you moved here as an adult, you’ve probably spent decades speaking a certain way. Your tongue is already accustomed to particular sounds, rhythms, and pronunciations.

That’s not to say you cannot learn to sound more American. You absolutely can. But it generally takes more effort than it would if you had moved here as a child.

And one way or another, your original accent has a way of finding its way back into the conversation.

That’s what people sometimes describe as an accent slip while code-switching.

If you’re reading this newsletter, I think it’s fair to assume you have some familiarity with code-switching, so I won’t go into the details.

But back to my argument.

You may never sound exactly like a native-born American. And that’s okay. Actually, that’s beyond okay.

I’ve been in this country for a while now, and I’ve found myself in rooms filled with professionals from different parts of the world.

From Chinese professors in college to Australian scientists in the workplace, German doctors in hospitals, Indian data scientists, a Persian CMO, an Armenian CSO, and a Dutch CEO.

The list is almost endless.

All of these people were excellent at their jobs, many of them climbing the corporate ladder successfully despite having noticeable non-American accents.

My first real understanding of why my Nigerian accent wasn’t necessarily a hindrance came while I was in graduate school.

I was a Graduate Teaching Assistant, and I used to worry about my accent.

Would the students understand me?

Would they give me a bad rating at the end of the semester because they struggled to understand what I was saying?

Should I change the way I speak to sound more American?

All of these worries began to disappear after I took a Biochemistry class taught by an incredibly intelligent Chinese professor.

For the first three classes, I could barely understand what this man was saying.

I had to sit at the front of the classroom, record the lectures, and play the audio back afterward to properly follow the discussion.

This man had been a professor at the institution for decades, and several generations of graduate students had taken his class.

He was clearly good at his job.

And his accent hadn’t stopped him from building a successful academic career.

After the first few classes, something interesting happened.

I started paying closer attention to the way he spoke, and gradually, I began to understand him.

His accent hadn’t suddenly disappeared. I had simply become more familiar with it.

And that changed the way I thought about my own students.

If I could make the effort to understand my Chinese professor, then surely my students could become familiar with my Nigerian accent too.

And I was right.

Nobody complained about my accent.

Of course, I sometimes had to speak more slowly, enunciate certain words, or repeat myself.

But that’s part of effective communication, regardless of where you’re from.

If my Chinese professor could thrive in his career with his accent, why couldn’t I thrive with mine?

When I started job hunting after graduate school, it wasn’t uncommon for interviewers to say something along the lines of:

“I hear a bit of an accent. Where are you from?”

And I genuinely enjoyed those moments.

It was usually a great way to ease into an interview.

Suddenly, I had an opportunity to tell them something about myself beyond what was written on my résumé.

I could talk about growing up in Nigeria, moving across the world, and navigating a completely different environment.

The conversation became more personal.

And if you’ve been in Corporate America for more than a minute, you’ll probably agree that personality and your ability to connect with people can make a significant difference in interviews.

Of course, you need the qualifications and experience to do the job. But when several candidates are equally qualified, the person who connects better with the interviewers often has an advantage.

My accent sometimes helped me create that connection.

There’s an assumption that if you sound a little more American, it’ll be easier to blend in.

But I don’t think blending in should always be the goal.

People can often tell that you weren’t born or raised here, just as you can sometimes tell when someone speaking English is Nigerian.

And that’s not necessarily a disadvantage.

Your accent is part of your story, and your story can be one of your greatest professional assets.

Think about it.

Very few people can boast of moving halfway across the world, adapting to an entirely different culture, navigating unfamiliar systems, and building a successful career, sometimes without any family support.

Yet that’s exactly what many of us have done.

Your accent is a reminder of where you started and how far you’ve come.

Why should you be embarrassed by that?

I’ve also found that many Americans are genuinely curious about where you’re from.

In my experience, people have generally been gracious, and some are even more willing to offer guidance or support once they realize you’re navigating an unfamiliar environment.

Of course, not everyone will respond that way. Accent bias is real, and there will always be people who make assumptions about your intelligence or competence based on how you speak.

But I don’t believe the solution is to erase your accent in anticipation of other people’s prejudices.

Now, don’t misunderstand me.

I’m not suggesting that you should make absolutely no effort to improve how you communicate.

There’s a difference between improving your communication skills and trying to replace your accent.

If people consistently struggle to understand certain words, work on your pronunciation.

If you’re speaking too quickly, slow down.

Enunciate your words, speak confidently, and don’t shy away from repeating yourself when necessary.

These are useful communication skills for everyone, regardless of nationality.

And if you naturally pick up aspects of an American accent after living here for several years, that’s perfectly fine too.

The problem isn’t sounding American.

The problem is believing that you have to sound American to be taken seriously.

I’ve met people at the highest levels of organizations in this country who speak with very noticeable foreign accents.

They don’t spend their time trying to sound like everyone else in the room.

They establish their credibility through their knowledge, competence, and ability to deliver results.

And people listen because they know what they’re talking about.

As African immigrants, we already have enough things to navigate while building our careers in a new country.

I don’t think we need to add the unnecessary pressure of sounding like we were born here.

So keep your Nigerian accent.

Work on your communication skills. Learn to express yourself clearly. Become comfortable speaking in rooms where nobody sounds like you.

But don’t lose yourself trying to fit in.

Your goal should be to make people understand what you’re saying, not to make them forget where you’re from.

And who knows? That accent you’re trying so hard to hide might just be the thing that makes someone remember you.

I’m curious: If you moved to the US as an adult, have you ever struggled with your accent or felt pressured to sound more American? What did you do about it?

Reply to this email and share your experience. I’d love to hear your perspective.

And if you know a fellow immigrant who’s still fighting with their Nigerian accent, forward this to them. They might need to hear it.