Haunted by bitter memories, scarred by trauma, and burdened with deep regret—these are the stories shared by some Kenyan workers who braved the unforgiving conditions of the Gulf. Despite the harsh realities they faced, they have lived to recount their harrowing experiences, offering a poignant glimpse into the resilience of the human spirit.
Among them is Velma Nerima, a 37-year-old single mother of three from Busia County. With an aging mother who could no longer support her and her children, Velma seized the opportunity to travel to Saudi Arabia in 2021.
This chance came through a woman named Brenda Warimbe, who visited their village, promising those willing to travel to transform their lives by helping them find better opportunities abroad.
Desperate after separating from her husband, Velma did not hesitate to accept, especially since most of the travel costs were covered by the agent.
Despite her mother’s initial reservations, especially after seeing stories of other Gulf workers seeking help on TV, Velma decided to go. She moved from their Samia village and joined other girls in Kasarani where a training of three weeks was conducted before they took off to Saudi Arabia.
However, upon arrival, she spent two days waiting for her employer to pick her up, confined in an overcrowded holding room where basic needs like food were a nightmare. It was then that she realized something was wrong. The agreed-upon job was a front office position, but reality hit hard when she arrived. The woman who hired her bluntly informed Velma that her role was to serve the household, and she was immediately put to work after surrendering her passport.
After a month, Velma was moved to a larger house where she was responsible for over fifteen people, including pets. It was here that her misery truly began.
The household included five young men, whom her employer told them that Velma would be responsible for coaching them “how to be real men.” A week into her new role, she was forced to strip naked and endure sexual abuse from the five men.
After several months of sexual abuse, she was transferred to another house, where she was also forced to engage in sexual acts with the boss’s dogs.
The ordeal is as fresh as yesterday, Velma recounts that by the time she was rescued, her weight had plummeted from 72 kg to 30 kg, and her body bore scars and rashes from the harrowing experiences.
She had also contracted illnesses from the animals, which still impact her today. Desperate to save herself, she made two unsuccessful attempts to escape.
Eventually, with the help of the gatekeeper, she managed to flee and became a fugitive in a foreign land. A Good Samaritan who found Velma on the verge of death on the roadside, took her to a hospital, and that is when her journey towards deportation began.
Barely able to walk without assistance, she got deported last year
“I was weak, bitter, and overwhelmed with suicidal thoughts. I couldn’t believe I became a victim, despite warnings shared by other survivors on social media and television,” Velma recalls.
She was hidden away for over six months to allow her recovery. “I had rashes all over my body, with fluids oozing out, producing a foul odour. My mother was very concerned about how people would judge me if they saw me. I was kept a secret, like an unwanted child,” says Velma.
Her mother, Beatrice Barasa vividly remembers the first time she saw her daughter after her return, a sight so shocking that led her hospitalised.
“My daughter was a walking corpse. No one could recognise her except me, and even then, I had to hear her voice to be sure,” she recalls.
Concerned about her daughter’s health, Beatrice found herself overwhelmed with debt in her efforts to restore her daughter’s well-being. “I’ve sold nearly everything in my home to save my daughter, including my last remaining asset, a cow,” narrates the mother.
Fauzia Wanjiru, another survivor, founded an initiative called Footprint to Freedom. Her own experiences of torment inspired her to find a way to help other survivors recover from trauma.
After going through the process following her deportation, she recognised the importance of involving psychologists to help survivors have a smoother and more supportive recovery journey.
“It took me years to recover. I would often break down and spend the entire day sobbing. There were times when I would lock myself in a room for days without eating,” recalls Fauzia, who was introduced to an agency by a friend who promised her a job in Qatar but instead sent her to Saudi Arabia.
The harsh working conditions included 24-hour shifts without food, and punishments for mistakes not made were severe, ranging from being forced to stand in the sun all day to being locked in a toilet. The worst experience for Fauzia was when her employer sexually harassed her, an ordeal that led her to escape. After months of sleeping on the streets, she was finally deported, fortunate to be alive but numb from the pain.
Lucy Wanjiku, 39, is another survivor who barely made it out alive. She and her younger sister Reina Warungaru, both from Nakuru, traveled to Saudi Arabia in search of better opportunities.
Initially, things seemed promising, but her employer soon became abusive, withholding her salary despite the long hours she worked. Whenever Lucy complained, her boss would threaten her life. On one occasion, her employer boiled water and summoned her to her room and poured it on her, yet to recover another incident happened – she pressed a hot pan against Lucy’s thigh.
Desperate and terrified, Lucy began plotting her escape. Eventually, her employer framed her for theft, leading to more brutal treatment, including sexual assault. She was later dumped at a mosque, where she was rescued by police and eventually returned to Kenya.
As she recalls the marks always remind her of Saudi brutality, with the unfortunate death of her younger sister who never managed to come back.
Diana Chepkemoi’s story is not far from Lucy’s experience. Diana’s ordeal caused shock waves in September 2021 after a photo of her emaciated body emerged online. The picture caught Kenyans’ attention as her family appealed for assistance from the government to bring her back home.
Diana, the second-born in her family, dropped out of Meru University of Science and Technology in 2018 to seek better opportunities in Saudi Arabia after being unable to afford her tuition.
Sharing her ordeal, the woman revealed that by the time she decided to share pictures, she had been psychologically tortured, overworked, starved, and deprived of medical care. “At that point, my lady boss had done the worst she could imagine to me. The nightmare began when she accused me of stealing her wedding ring, which I denied knowing anything about,” recounts Diana.
Her employer physically abused her before calling in other goons who made her life a living hell in a foreign land.
“She bluntly told me that she had bought me, and I should expect the worst from her,” Diana recalls. She says her boss locked her in a dark room and called in some men who brutally assaulted her before she was finally rescued and taken to a hospital. This eventually led to her deportation back to Kenya without a single cent.
According to her, sharing the photos was her only chance to save herself and return home alive, and it succeeded, as she made it back to Kenya.