The Nigerian experience is physical, emotional, and sometimes international. No one knows it better than our features on #TheAbroadLife, a series where we detail and explore Nigerian experiences while living abroad.
Uyai* (41) wanted a fresh start, so she sold her properties and moved to the U.S to study at an Ivy League university. In this story, she shares how what she thought was a fresh beginning turned to a horror story that ended with her becoming a physically and emotionally abused househelp to another Nigerian.
Where do you live now, and when did you leave Nigeria?
I live in the United States of America, and I left Nigeria in 2021.
What was the main inspiration for wanting to leave at the time?
Honestly, it was the bad leadership in the country. I visited the U.S. before I moved permanently for a friend’s 40th birthday. It was my first time in the city I visited, and I was surprised by how easy life seemed there.
I was at a phase of my life searching for new beginnings, and being in the U.S. felt right. After the trip, I returned to Nigeria, applied for a course at an Ivy League university, got in, sold my properties, shut down my business, paid my tuition, and moved to the U.S.
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That’s amazing.
Yeah, I already had a valid B1/B2 visa, which made it easier to convert and do the student route without starting from scratch. My plan was to start as a student, get a job while in school, and transition from there.
I worked for a tech company in Lagos before starting my business, and I was looking to get back into that field, so I figured taking a course at an Ivy League school would give me an edge. My plan was going well, but all of a sudden, I lost everything and went from grace to grass.
That’s horrible! What went wrong?
Starting life afresh in a different country sounded easy to me. I made plans, but reality hit me hard the moment I moved here.
After school, everything just crashed. I was staying with a relative at the time, and things got so tense that she eventually asked me to leave. I had nowhere else to go. I was essentially homeless. All the money I’d come with was gone. I had paid tuition and used up the little savings I had left. I kept asking myself, “What happened to all the plans? Why can’t I find a job?”
I didn’t realise that getting a work sponsorship as a foreigner was extremely difficult. There’s a cap, and many people are competing for the same limited slots. I applied for countless jobs and didn’t hear back from even one. The money was gone. I had no job, no house, and no idea what to do. I had to start working odd jobs for survival.
What kind of jobs?
When things got really bad, I reached out to a friend and told her that I was ready to do anything to get out of that situation. I didn’t mind if it was hairdressing, cleaning, babysitting or anything else, as long as it could keep me off the streets. She felt bad for me and connected with a Nigerian woman who was coming to the U.S. to have her kids. She needed a stay-in help, and the job came with accommodation. It was in another state, but I didn’t think twice. She offered $1,200/month. I had less than $10 in my account, so of course I said yes.
But that decision changed everything again for the worse. This woman turned out to be verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive. The insults started from day one. I couldn’t eat what I wanted. She policed everything. There was a time she yelled at me for buying cookies with my own money. She only permitted me to have one egg and a loaf of bread every day of the week. I worked nonstop, barely sleeping, looking after newborn twins, cleaning, doing everything. I became the nanny, the maid, the cleaner and everything in between.
That sounds really traumatic. If you’re open to it, I’d like to hear more.
The very first day we met, she looked at me with disgust. Earlier, I mentioned how she yelled at me for buying cookies. On that day, she sent me to the store to get specific items for her, and I bought myself some cookies with my own money after picking up what she asked for. I put the cookies in the same pack as the other things she requested because I didn’t think I needed to hide them. When she saw them, she flipped out and made it clear that I was only allowed to eat whatever she gave me. Things got worse after that day.
In what way?
She had a house full of food, but I couldn’t touch any of it. I was being fed like a prisoner; one meal a day and constant insults.
She’d call me useless, wretched, and say I’d never amount to anything. And she’d do this daily. After two weeks, I told her I wanted to leave. She threatened to call the police and tell them that I sold drugs, and get me deported. At this point, my student visa had expired, so she had leverage.
She even said she’d lie to the police and tell them I abused her kids or stole from her. And because I was out of status and desperate for sponsorship, I was terrified.
I didn’t know that making false police threats is a crime here. I just felt trapped. I started sending my location to people in case anything happened to me. Eventually, I told my mum and brother everything. My brother wanted me to come back to Nigeria.
But before that, I hit rock bottom. For the first time in my life, I was suicidal. I lost so much weight and looked unrecognisable. And I was still doing 20-hour shifts caring for those babies. At this point, she had stopped paying my salary. She wouldn’t pay for transport either whenever she wanted to send me on errands. I had to walk for two hours just to buy groceries and then walk back.
Sometimes when I went on those errands, I’d stand by the roadside thinking, “Maybe I should just jump.” But I couldn’t. I didn’t have the courage.
There was even a day she gave me one chicken wing. I ate it, licked the bones, and threw them in the bin. She saw the bone and got angry. She started shouting about how wasteful I was because I threw the bone away.
She once scratched me with her nails. I still have the marks to this day.
My God, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry
Thank you. People do horrible things behind closed doors. If someone like me, a grown woman, went through this, imagine what younger immigrants go through. I was 38 at this point, and she was in her late 40s. I didn’t understand where the wickedness was coming from.
I reached out to the police non-emergency line. I contacted a suicide hotline too. But at the time, no one came to help. So after months of constant insults and emotional abuse, she finally went back to Nigeria, and I was able to leave the house. But I had nowhere else to go, so I returned to my aunt’s place and briefly stayed there before leaving.
A while later, I met a lawyer who helped me figure out many things.
I’m glad you made it out alive
Thank you. When I got back to the state I was living in before getting that job, I remembered hearing that in the U.S., if you work for someone and they exploit you or don’t pay you, you can apply for an immigration benefit.
The lawyer I mentioned earlier helped me apply for this immigration status. It’s called T Status. It’s meant for people who’ve been trafficked or exploited. That’s how I got my work authorisation, and now I’m on track to get my green card.
Most Nigerians in similar situations don’t know much about this process. I didn’t either, so I ended up staying in such a horrible situation. But now that I know, I was blessed enough with a lawyer who put me through the process. I am happy to share the resources I was able to compile during my process with anyone who needs them.
Uyai has kindly shared some helpful resources for any immigrant going through an experience similar to what she had. If this is you or anyone you know, click here to check it out.
Did you ever regret leaving Nigeria?
Multiple times. I considered moving back. But then I’d remember how much I spent to get here. I couldn’t just walk away from that.
I get that. What was your life like in Nigeria?
I was very comfortable. I worked in the oil and gas, tech, and real estate sectors. I also ran a successful business. I could afford the occasional vacation with my friends. I wasn’t suffering; I just wanted something more.
So once you left your aunt’s house, how did things shift?
My brother offered to pay for a flight home, and a friend in London sent me $500 to help me find a place.
Then, one day, I saw a post on social media. Someone who turned out to be a major leader in a reputable company was hiring. I sent him a DM, offering some helpful insight for the company. He offered me a leadership role and a 100k+ salary almost immediately. That’s the job I’m still doing today. I also met someone and we’re in love. Life is great
That’s amazing!
I’m a Christian, so I’ve always believed everything will work for my good. I’m thankful to God for how far He has brought me.
That’s incredible. On a scale of one to ten, how happy are you now?
Maybe eight. The politics here can be mad sometimes. But I’m in love, I’m paid, and I’m free. Life is good.
Don’t miss the first-ever Naira Life Conference happening on August 8. Click here to save your seat and be part of the money conversation.
Do you want to share your Abroad Life story? Please reach out to me here. For new episodes of Abroad Life, check in every Friday at 12 PM (WAT).
