In Exit West by Mohsin Hamid, passing through the magic doors is depicted as a rebirth for migrants. It presents a complex view on the migrant journey: Rather than just a shift in location, there is also a shift in one’s identity during the process. For example, the journey through the doors was described as wet and tiring. This showed similarities to birth physically, however, it also presents more than just a literal rebirth. When leaving your country and homeland behind, you are forced to leave parts of you as well. Your identity is forced to morph. While you hold on to key parts of your past life, you also have to let some go. Being in a new location comes with assimilation in some form. Whether this is mixing cultures or accepting a new way of life these are super common when moving countries. Saeed and Nadia are faced with these choices following their passing through doors; every single time. While its sad, it also presents new opportunity, such as that of a newborn baby who has the whole world to shape for themselves. While rebirth can be daunting, Hamid portrays it as a milestone in every migrant’s journey.
Date: November 3, 2025
In chapter 8 of Exit West by Mohsin Hamid, Saeed and Nadia are in London, in a quarter of London overflowing with migrant populations from all across the world. Yet, even as cultures mix, they begin to separate as if oil and water, and houses start to become full of people from the same walks of life instead of being the diverse temporary homes they were before. Saeed feels ostracized and alone as the house he and Nadia are staying in becomes predominantly Nigerian, and begins spending more and more time at a house down the street full of people from his own country. He wants to move in, where he would feel welcome and safe. On page 153, when he suggests this to Nadia, she doesn’t react how he expected:
“Why would we want to move?” she said.
“To be among our own kind.”
“What makes them our kind?”
“They’re from our country.”
“From the country we used to be from.”
“Yes.” Saeed tried not to sound annoyed.
“We’ve left that place.”
“That doesn’t mean we have no connection.”
“They’re not like me.”
“You haven’t met them.”
For me, this is a pivotal point in the novel that highlights the fundamental theme of the novel; that borders hardly matter in a world where people aren’t forced to stay by circumstance. ‘Our kind’ is an attempt to forge connections amongst strangers for a sense of safety, but it’s hard to maintain in such a new world when others intend to move on.
There are countless scenes that illustrate this throughout the book, but chapter 8 is full of them. One is Nadia’s relationship with the council of Nigerian elders from the row of predominantly-Nigerian houses. (pg. 147-148) The people of those three houses are only nominally ‘Nigerian,’ as many come from families split across arbitrary borders or from entirely different villages who even speak separate languages. They have found ‘their kind,’ but it’s a loose definition, and soon, with Nadia, they embrace her as one of them and ‘our kind’ immediately becomes void in favor of forging new connections in the diverse world beyond the doors.
Even Saeed, later on, comes to realize this. While he feels a connection to the preacher’s daughter, whose mother was from his country, he builds a community between himself and the others in his cooperative, who were not. As settlements are established, people seek out ‘their kind’ less and less, until society is truly diverse all across the world.
It’s an incredible message, and Hamid’s writing paints a picture of how the world could be without borders.