…The new reality of visa application
The United States has long been a beacon of hope for countless Nigerians aspiring to study, work, or reunite with loved ones abroad. Today, however, digital footprints, not just academic or financial credentials, sit at the centre of many migration journeys.
Nigerian (and other) visa applicants are now required to submit five years of social media history via the DS-160 form, listing usernames across platforms such as Facebook, Instagram, Twitter (X), LinkedIn, TikTok, YouTube, and more. The rule applies to both immigrant and non-immigrant visa categories, including study, work, and exchange visas. For certain categories, specifically F (student), M (vocational), and J (exchange), applicants must additionally make their social media accounts public for consular review.
Their content may then be screened for indicators such as “hostility toward U.S. values,” support for extremist groups, antisemitic rhetoric, political activism, and any inconsistencies with application materials.
The U.S. government frames this as a necessary component of modern security protocols—intended to verify identity and flag potential threats or misrepresentations. Failure to disclose accurate social media information—or refusal to make accounts public- can lead to visa denial, additional administrative processing, or even longer-term ineligibility for future visas.
On the other hand, national security is a legitimate concern. Ensuring the integrity of visa issuance is crucial, particularly in a world where online behaviour can reflect radical or unlawful associations. Yet, this surveillance model is deeply flawed when applied indiscriminately to law-abiding applicants. Casting a wide net over personal expression risks ensnaring individuals whose social media merely reflects normal political opinions, cultural commentary, or youthful experiments.
Privacy is a right, not a luxury. By forcing applicants to make private accounts public, the policy erases personal boundaries and exposes individuals—and their associates—to risks ranging from identity theft to political vulnerability in unstable contexts. The internet’s permanence means that early-career or unfiltered reflections may now weigh heavily in a consular decision made years later. Moreover, the opacity of the review process is alarming. Applicants do not know which posts might flag “hostility” or “ideological divergence.” With no clear standards, decisions can hinge on subjective interpretations—a dangerous proposition for anyone seeking entry.
Seen through the lens of civil liberties, this policy is not just about visas; it is a statement on surveillance in the digital age. If one’s social media can determine travel eligibility, the boundary between public life and government scrutiny has irreversibly blurred.
Ultimately, while states must safeguard borders, they must also uphold the freedoms that define them. A system that punishes dissent or privacy under the guise of vetting invites a quiet erosion of democratic values. Nigeria’s digital citizens deserve transparency, fairness, and respect—not inference by algorithm and assumption.
