Reclaiming My Nigerian Jewish Heritage with Birthright Israel

I was born in East Hollywood and grew up in LA. I'm studying communications at Cal State University, Northridge. My interests are finance, art, music, and film, and my hope is to build a career as a financial advisor.

I didn't grow up Jewish. My family is from Nigeria, specifically Igbo. Four years ago, I began to get curious about Igbo Jewish heritage. I found it fascinating, and I started digging more. I decided to seriously explore my Jewish identity — the cultural side and the religious side. Israel became a big part of that, too. It was amazing to know that its ancient sites directly relate to the Bible. But I'll admit, seeing the political side of things upset me. Seeing all the polarization, especially the negativity directed at Israel, was distressing — and that was even before I'd been to Israel myself.

From there, I started learning Hebrew independently. More recently, I've started going to synagogue — I go to Valley Beth Shalom — and I got involved with Hillel and Chabad at my school. One of the staff members at Hillel guided me and opened my eyes. One day she asked me, do you want to go to Israel? I said, of course! I went with my friend group from Hillel, so I wasn't walking in alone.

The architecture in Israel was beautiful, and there was so much more greenery than I expected. The IDF soldiers assigned to our group were really cool. They were around my age, if not younger, which caught me off guard, since they carried themselves with such maturity. The energy was great from the start — everyone had good chemistry right away.

There were so many good moments. Shabbat was really fun. Tel Aviv was another highlight. Being on the strip, seeing the art and the history, was one of the most educational days of the trip. But going to the beach and looking back at the skyline was a feeling like no other — it looked futuristic, and it wasn't just the architecture or the scenery. It was the people.

And then there was Old Jerusalem. That feeling people talk about — that spiritual, powerful feeling, especially touching and praying at the Western Wall — you can't explain it. Walking the same streets our ancestors walked, seeing the stories of the Torah play out in the same physical space, while life continued around it — people shopping, people going to university, just regular life happening — it was beautiful. It confirmed something for me: the same reason I'd been investigating my family heritage is the same reason I couldn't take anything at face value from the news. I needed to come and see it for myself.

Being part of the Birthright Israel group meant a lot too. One moment that really stayed with me was a story our security guard shared with us. At Har Hertzl, he mourned the death of a close friend, someone he used to go to parties with, have three-hour conversations about life with, laugh with, serve in the IDF with. His friend had lost his life while serving. It made me emotional in a way I don't really have the words for.

Then we visited the Desert Stars Academy in Southern Israel. It’s a school in the Bedouin community that prepares Bedouin children for successful lives in Israeli society. We met Khitam Abu Bader, a leader from the school. Going in, I wondered if it would feel scripted, but she was completely genuine and authentic. Hearing directly from an Israeli Arab citizen opened my eyes. Someone asked her a question about Bedouins and mandatory military service, and whether it might improve relations between Bedouins and Israelis. Her answer was honest and insightful — she said it's complicated, because she has family in Gaza. If one of her relatives were drafted into the IDF, they might end up, without ever intending to, in a situation where they'd harm someone they're related to.

I realized that Arabs in the region want the same things Jewish Israelis do. Khitam told us a story about October 7th — that Israeli Arabs were killed too, coldheartedly, some of them speaking Arabic and pleading in Arabic not to be killed, telling their attackers they were Arab, only to be told by Hamas that they were worse than the Jews. That's how deeply Israeli Arabs are in the same boat as Israeli Jews — people who just want to work and live regular lives.

My background is different from that of most Birthright Israel participants. I wondered whether I was Jewish enough. When I told people I'm Jewish and Nigerian, many had never heard of a Nigerian Jew. But others on the trip were genuinely interested in my story. A close friend I made, whose background is North African and Latin American, lit up when I told him I'm Igbo. That made me feel a lot better. It doesn't matter what your story is — pretty much everyone there is diverse, and people never treated me any differently. That made me feel like I belonged. Whatever sense of feeling out of place I came in with didn't last very long at all.

Having returned from Israel just a few days ago, I feel energized. Many of the things I already believed had been confirmed with firsthand evidence. Israel is a country trying to defend itself. The conspiracy theories aren't true — and now I've seen it with my own eyes.

There are Black Jews in Israel. There are Mizrahi Jews who look Middle Eastern. There are Indian Jews. It's such a diverse place. People who believe Israel is homogenous don’t have the facts. If they truly knew, they'd realize how little sense their narratives make. I'm glad I'm not on the wrong side of this, because when people say nasty things, it can make you second-guess yourself. But no — I know what I'm talking about. The image I had of Israel in my head was the correct one.

Going forward, my Jewish identity is only going to play a bigger role in my life. I took a Hebrew class last semester, and it genuinely helped — I was able to get around, ask for directions, order food, using the Hebrew I'd learned. I want to be more involved in the Jewish community outside of synagogue and Hillel, connect with more Jewish people around greater Los Angeles, and honestly, just be more Jewish — do more Jewish things, live more Jewishly. It makes me proud that halfway across the world there's an entire country of people with whom I share history, who I can laugh with, who I can have real, insightful conversations with.

If I could speak directly to the donor who funded my trip, I'd say: you changed my life, for the better. I can't thank you enough. And I'm not a rare case — the thirty-plus other participants on my trip all feel the same way. We're incredibly thankful to have been able to go to Israel.

It's important to keep supporting and funding Birthright because young Jewish people, especially now, need to see the real Israel for themselves rather than the version they get secondhand. It's not about politics — it's about Jewish people knowing where they're from, educating themselves, protecting themselves, and being able to educate others on what's actually going on. The last thing any of us would want is for a Jewish person to end up feeling ashamed, hating where they're from, or hating their fellow Jew because they believed propaganda. We have so much to be proud of. More people need to go to Israel and see it with their own eyes.