By M. Santrina, CJ

Like many young Africans seeking employment as domestic workers in the United
Arab Emirates, Jasmine* believed the sacrifice would be temporary. The two-year
contract promised a stable income, and she hoped to return home with enough
savings to transform her family’s future.


At just 23 years old, the young Ugandan mother of one had one dream: to lift her
family out of poverty. As the firstborn in a family of four siblings, Jasmine grew up
carrying responsibilities. Her father was battling a kidney disease and medical bills
continued to mount, her younger siblings needed school fees, and she was also
raising a little daughter.


Becoming pregnant just after completing her secondary school had strained her
relationship with her mother. Feeling she had disappointed her family, Jasmine
longed for an opportunity to prove herself. So, when an offer came to work in Saudi
Arabia as a domestic worker, it seemed like the breakthrough she had been praying
for.


The work was demanding, and the conditions difficult. Long hours, little rest, low
food supplies, and isolation became part of her daily routine. Still, she persevered.
“I told myself that every difficult day was worth it because my family was depending
on me,” she says.


And she was successful. She spent almost nothing of her salary on herself, sending
nearly all the amount home trusting that her mother was saving the money so they
could purchase a piece of land and establish a more secure future for the family.
Unfortunately by the time her contract ended, Jasmine was seriously ill, suffering
from severe anaemia and stomach ulcers. To her that did not matter, as she carried
the joy that the years of sacrifice had yielded something tangible back at home.


Instead, she was devastated. The savings she had worked so hard to accumulate
were gone, but there was no land, no investment, and no financial security waiting
for her return. The emotional shock worsened her physical illness. Luckily, she got
the right medical care and recovered.

Once she regained her health, she found herself facing the same painful reality she
had tried so hard to escape: overwhelming financial responsibilities and few
opportunities to earn a living.


Determined to make it once again, she decided to return to the UAE, this time to
Dubai. A recruitment agency offered what appeared to be a solution. The cost of her
air ticket would be covered upfront, she was told, and she would repay it from her
first salary.


She eagerly accepted the arrangement, not knowing the job she had been promised
did not exist. When she landed in the United Arab Emirates, she was instead handed
over to an employer who subjected her to abuse.


She says she was frequently denied adequate food, verbally humiliated, physically
assaulted, and prevented from leaving. Her passport and other identification
documents were confiscated, with the explanation that they would only be returned
after she repaid the recruitment debt.


Without her documents, she could not freely leave her employment or seek other
opportunities. Without wages, she could not repay the debt. She found herself
trapped in a cycle that left her powerless.


“I felt like I no longer belonged to myself,” she says.


Eventually, fearing for her safety, she fled. But escape did not mean freedom.
Without identification documents, formal employment became impossible.
Reporting her situation to the authorities carried its own risks, while remaining
undocumented left her vulnerable to arrest and further exploitation.


Today, it is nearly three years since she left Uganda and Jasmine is still stranded
thousands of kilometers away from home. Unable to return and unable to regularize
her situation.


She is trapped in a life of uncertainty, stripped of her freedom, identity, and the
future she had worked so hard to build. Living one day at a time,
Currently, Jasmine survives through occasional casual work. The income is
unpredictable and barely enough to cover shared accommodation, food,
transportation, and medical expenses, as recurring illness continues to affect her
health.

Despite her own hardship, she still sends whatever little she can to support her
family in Uganda. Her daughter continues growing up without her mother’s daily
presence, a sacrifice she never imagined she would be making.


“I don’t know when I’ll come home,” she says. “But I still pray every day.”
Jasmine’s story is one of resilience, but it is also a sobering reminder of how
vulnerable young people end up in labour exploitation and human trafficking when
desperation meets deception.


Jasmine’s story reflects a wider challenge affecting thousands of migrant workers
across the world. While many people migrate safely and secure decent employment
abroad, others fall victim to deceptive recruitment practices, debt bondage,
document confiscation, forced labour, and other forms of exploitation that amount
to human trafficking.


Behind every statistic on human trafficking is a human being; a daughter, a parent, a
sibling, or a friend whose hopes for a better future got exploited.


For this young mother, resilience has become a way of life. She refuses to surrender
hope, believing that one day she will safely return home, reunite with her daughter,
and begin rebuilding the life that circumstances interrupted.


Until then, Jasmine lives one day at a time, a survivor whose story serves both as a
warning and a call to action. It reminds us that the promise of opportunities abroad
should never come at the cost of human dignity, freedom or safety.


“I still believe that one day God will make a way for me,” she says, holding on to
hope despite years of uncertainty.


*Name changed to hide identity.

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